Someone To Watch Over Me 
By Summer 
Email FB: Summersfanfiction@hotmail.com

Pairings: Frodo/Sam, Implied: Merry/Frodo, Aragorn/Frodo 
Class: Slash; NC-17
Warnings: MPREG Story, Violent consensual sex-, character death (but from old age!)  
Description: Angst, Hurt/Comfort
Summary: Frodo is looking for love.

1/10  
Disclaimer: I don't own them, Tolkien and New Line owns them. I own nothing.
Beta read by: Achila and Lorie

He knelt down close to the running waterfalls. Keeping himself hidden by the tall stalks 
of green grass, the stranger watched his prey with growing curiosity. He had not been far 
from the Shire when he had bumped into an old friend who'd asked him for a favor. It 
had been quite a favor, but one he could not refuse. 

He had been watching this one now for several days. The young hobbit was usually not 
far from his safe habitat -- a round hobbit hole. When he was outside, it was usually to sit 
under a tree in his garden, reading a book or speaking to his gardener, exchanging a little 
gossip. 

From the moment he had laid eyes on this halfling, he had been shocked by his beauty. 
The dark brown hair reminded him of chestnuts in season. His eyes were a startling blue 
and his skin was not like the dark brown speckled color of his fellow hobbits. No, the 
skin of Frodo Baggins was almost as white as snow. 

This was one of the most beautiful hobbits he had ever seen. Although he had never 
ventured far in the land of the halflings, he had spent some time in Bree and had seen 
many such creatures. None of them could be compared to this one. If it weren't for his 
size and the large feet, he would have sworn that this was one of the Elf kindred. 

Frodo Baggins also seemed to have a strange quality about him -- he was intelligent and 
yet innocent as well. Untouched by the outside world. He also seemed to have an 
attractive, alluring quality. In many ways, it made this Baggins a jewel among jewels.

Early this morning, he had seen the young hobbit come out of his hole carrying several 
things on his back. Following, the hobbit led him to this small pond far on the east side of 
Hobbiton. Away from the village and prying eyes, the hobbit had then, without 
hesitation, stripped himself of his clothing and leaped into the sparkling white water. 

For several minutes, the hobbit swam in circles performing several stroking patterns 
before he finally took his position beneath the waterfall. With a look of absolute peace, 
he raised his hands up into the air and allowed the water to cascade over him. Several 
times, his body moved in a graceful motion up and down with his hands moving slowly 
to rub at his face and hair and then at his throat and chest. 

Surprised and unable to tear his eyes away from the lovely sight, he was dazed to see 
that the hobbit's body was almost hairless except for his head, legs and feet. In a succinct 
word, the young hobbit was magnificent and that was all that could be said. No wonder 
his friend had wanted him safeguarded. 

He, a ranger, had traveled to many places in Middle Earth and knew without question 
that many an unscrupulous soul would have snapped this one up for their own twisted 
pleasures. Yes, this one needed protecting. 

There was no doubt about that. For a moment, he pondered his friend's words that this 
one, this Frodo Baggins, would be sent on an important mission, one that would mean 
the future of Middle Earth. Surely his friend did not expect such an innocent to leave the 
safety of the Shire? Surely the kindly Wizard did not expect so much from such a small, 
frail and obvious gentle being? 

But dark days were coming. Dark days. 

Shaking his head, he was just about to take his leave when a noise caused him to stop.
 *** 

"Mr. Frodo! There you are! Your Sam is here!" 

He had almost finished his bath when an all too familiar voice boomed in his ear. 
Looking up, Frodo watched as a lone figure stepped out of the trees, making his way 
towards the pond carrying what looked to be several bags along with assorted pots and 
pans. 

"I knew I would find you here!" 

Sputtering in shock, Frodo could only gape at the blond haired gardener who, without 
hesitation, put down his burdens and proceeded to make a fire. It was then Frodo 
remembered that he was stark naked, and with another gasp, fled into the pond with only 
his head sticking out from the water, Frodo peered around a boulder, blushing as red as a 
rose petal. 

"Samwise Gamgee, how in the world did you find me?" 

Blinking, the gardener shrugged and returned to his current job of starting a fire. 

"Well, you weren't at Bag End, and it was too early to be going to the Green Dragon. 
And since you were not at the Mill, or visiting Folco, for he's away visiting his 
grandfather up by the west farthing, I figured you had to be here -- in your secret 
hideaway." 

Now with narrowed eyes and forgetting his nakedness, Frodo slowly came out of the 
water, allowing his curiosity to take over. He looked at his gardener in a new light. 

"You knew of my secret hideaway?" 

"Yes, Sir, I know you've been coming here since you came to Bag End -- usually when 
you didn't want to get under foot when Mr. Bilbo was working on his book or working 
in the kitchen. Sometimes you came here when you were troubled or felt sad." 

"You...you followed me? You spied on me?" 

Surprised by the accusation, Sam shook his head. 

"Not spying, just making sure the heir to be, Master of Bag End, was all right. Anyways, 
you hadn't been up here in awhile, almost a year since Mr. Bilbo left. Yes, I remember 
that very next day, after Mr. Gandalf left too, you came up here and spent the whole day 
just sitting on a rock and staring at the falls. You looked so sad and I was tempted to 
come over but, well it not being my place and all, and I thought you would want to be 
alone so, I just stayed and watched over you until you headed for home. So today, I 
reckoned you came here and lucky for you, I came too." 

Sam glanced at the blanket and the small pack on the ground near Frodo's clothes. 

"You forgot to bring something to eat on your outing." 

Frodo stared in dumbstuck silence and then slowly, a smile came to his face. 

"Oh Sam, really you are a wonder." 

He should have been upset but Frodo found himself unable to be irritated at his devoted 
gardener. It was true that this had been his secret spot. A place no one knew about. A 
place he would often come when he needed to think serious thoughts or somewhere to 
clear dark memories. He considered it a magical place, and it was a bit disconcerting to 
find that it wasn't so unknown after all. 

This morning he had awoken to memories of his parents and it took him several moments 
to realize that today was the anniversary of their death more then 20 years ago. The 
memories had brought him to tears. Ever since Bilbo left, he had felt more alone then 
ever before. All his life he had felt isolated and separate from everyone around him, 
particularly after his parents drowned and he was sent to live at Brandy Hall. No one 
paid him much mind unless it was to scold him or to comment how UNHOBBIT-like he 
was, relegated to be nothing but an outcast. That is, until Bilbo had taken him in and of 
course, he had met Sam. 

Dear sweet Sam. Frodo emerged from his thoughts just in time to hear Sam commenting 
on the day. 

"Yes, Sir, it's a beautiful day and I thought, yes I think it would be perfect for a picnic."

Sam smiled as the fire caught and with his pans, he prepared their meal. He had brought 
quite a basket filled with edibles -- sausages, bread, tomatoes, potatoes, apple pie, 
several cakes, muffins, and fresh fruit. Shaking his head, Frodo turned, and with a laugh, 
leaped back into the water. He swam to the side of the waterfall and finding a convenient 
rock, crawled out to sunbathe. 
*** 
The stranger watched the two small figures in amusement. That gardener seemed very 
protective of his master, and he couldn't miss the slight blush on the hobbit's face when 
he glanced over to see the dark haired one's bare skin. 

A little while later, the gardener was about to start peeling the potatoes when he looked 
at his charge and shrugged. 

"Mr. Frodo, you'd better turn over, or by the time you get home, your backside will be 
burnt like bread left in an oven for too long!" 

Sighing blissfully, the hobbit turned and at once showed off the other side of his body. 
The watching stranger did not miss how the gardener's blush deepened at the sight of his 
master's well proportioned front. His body was perfect to behold, having curves that 
gave the added effect. The Ranger had no doubt this hobbit must have a great many 
drooling admirers. 

Frodo seemed to no longer mind his privacy being intruded upon by his gardener and 
closed his eyes. With a smile of contentment, he placed his hands behind his head and 
lifted one leg up in a slight bend , having no idea that the last movement made him look 
even more desirable. A ripe apple just waiting to be plucked. 

The stranger in his hiding place had to move slightly as his pants suddenly got a bit tight 
in a certain area. He groaned painfully as the growing desire washed over him. 
*** 

"So are you going to tell me *why* you followed me, Sam?" 

Samwise Gamgee looked up from his fire and glanced at his Master, trying to hide the 
red tinge in his cheeks by looking into his pack. 

"Whatever do you mean, Mr. Frodo?" 

"Sam, I left a note that I would be back this evening and since the rosebushes along the 
fence needed trimming, I figured you would have your hands full in the garden. Surely 
you did not need to tend to me as well." 


Sam only scoffed and looking up, there was a small bit of hurt dwelling in his eyes. 

"I would never neglect the garden. If you are not happy with my work you can always 
ask my old Gaffer to..." 

He never got to finish. Frodo suddenly sat bolt upright, staring back at his friend in 
obvious surprise. 

"Oh no Sam, that is not what I meant. Honestly, you are the best in all the Shire, and I 
wouldn't want anyone tending to Bilbo's...my garden..." He amended his words hastily. 
He sighed, still having a hard time coming to terms with Bilbo's leaving and the fact that 
he was the Master of Bag End now. "Really, its just that I know you had lots to do and I 
was curious as to why you would bother with me." 

Sam paused for a moment and then, picking up a large blanket, brought it over and 
covered Frodo with it. Taking a step back, he shrugged and mumbled under his breath, 
"It is almost midday and the sun will show your skin no mercy, Mr. Frodo -- you should 
stay covered a bit." 

Turning away, Sam stopped when Frodo stood up and reached out to touch his 
gardener's hand. 

"Sam?" 

Sighing again, but without looking back Sam gave in and confessed his motives for 
coming after his Master: 

"I was worried you were feeling lonely again. I just wanted to make sure you were all 
right, I didn't mean to cause no fuss. Besides, you sometimes get thinking so much that 
you forget things, especially eating. I promised Mr. Bilbo I would look after you when 
he...when he went away, though at the time, I didn't think he really would. But I gave my 
word and...and a promise is a promise." 

Tilting his head to the side, Frodo's blue eyes widened in happiness and gently, his hands 
touched his gardener's shoulders. Sam felt himself pulled back to face his master and was 
not surprised to see the blanket he had given Frodo slowly slipping down onto the 
ground. Their eyes met, and Sam thought for sure he was going to drown in that blue 
gaze.

"Samwise Gamgee, my dearest Sam. I don't deserve you." 

"Begging your pardon, but I think I know what you deserve, Mr. Frodo." 

Frodo grinned and his face drew in even closer. Their noses were now almost touching.

"And then what do I deserve, Mr. Gamgee?" he replied with all the love he could place in 
his voice. 

Suddenly put on the spot, Samwise started to blush once more and was about to retreat 
when Frodo's hands gently took hold of Sam's face. 

"Please, Sam. Tell me." 

He finally let go of the breath he was holding and confessed. 

"When I first laid eyes on you, I said to my mama, that you were one needing to be 
looked after. I swore right then and there that someday I would be taking care of you." 

"Sam, are you saying...that you love me?" 

Sam opened his mouth to respond and then closed it again. His eyes stared fearfully at 
his master and again he was about to make a hasty retreat when Frodo smiled warmly 
into his eyes. 

"Oh Sam, you are a treasure. I can't tell you when, I only know that for many years since 
I came to live at Bag End I could hardly wait to see you come to work in the garden. 
Ever since my parents died, I have felt like an outcast. Never really a part of Brandy Hall 
when I was a child, I never really felt as if I belonged. I always felt different from all the 
other children and they always made sure to let me know that I was. Bilbo has been the 
only one I ever allowed to get close to me, and then he just leaves. He left me behind and 
I felt so alone, so lost. I still can't believe it, even right now, I really don't feel like I am 
the Heir and Master of Bag End. But just when things seemed to get their worst, I woke 
up to see you come trailing up the hill, singing a merry tune. All the pain and darkness 
vanished and I know I can get through the day once more. Because I have my Sam, who 
will never leave me. Will you, Sam?" 

A tear fell from Frodo's eyes, and Sam's eyes misted up in return. He didn't even hesitate.

"I'll never leave you, Mr. Frodo. Never." 

In a moment, the two hobbits felt as if they were the only ones left in the world. They 
reached out for each other and just as Frodo and Sam were about to experience their first 
kiss, a loud cry broke the spell and a splash was heard, followed by a drenching spout of 
water. 

Sputtering in surprise, Sam turned to the pond to see a familiar little form smiling and 
giggling, swimming towards the embankment and giving Frodo one long adoring look.

"Weeeee, hi Sam, hi Frodo, come on in -- the water is fine. The more, the merrier!" 

He giggled some more and splashed even more water in their direction. 

"Peregrin Took, I aught to skin you alive for nearly trying to drown Mr. Frodo." 

"I am sorry Sam. But I just couldn't help it, after all, I only got to see the backside of my 
favorite cousin and I so wanted to see the front." 

Grinning devilishly he looked on at his naked cousin, who continued to stare open 
mouthed at him. Recovering from the assault and realizing his state of undress, Frodo 
quickly grabbed the fallen blanket to cover himself up again. 

"Pippin? What are you doing here?" 

"Here to visit you, right, Merry?" 

A movement from behind a tree caused them all turn to see a blond haired hobbit making 
his way slowly towards them, munching on an apple, and giving Frodo and Sam a very 
sly grin. 

"We came not only for a visit but also the view, and I must say the view from here is 
quite good!" 

Now blushing furiously, Frodo sat down beside the fire and muttered angrily in words 
only he understood. Sam, however, eyed the two young hobbits and wearily prepared to 
give them a lecture until Merry threw down his apple and, taking off his shirt, leaped into 
the pond. 

Watching the two cousins swim contentedly, Sam shook his head, and joined Frodo by 
the fire. With a long, sad look, he returned to tending to the meal. The moment was 
gone, but both knew without a doubt that the moment would come again -- when they 
did not have an audience. 

Minutes later, the area was filled with the laughter of four young hobbits, as Pippin and 
Merry told Sam and Frodo all about their newest adventures. Seeing that supper was 
ready and without even waiting for an invitation, the two helped themselves to a lavish 
meal of potatoes, sausage and cakes, gorging themselves with abandon. Frodo watched 
his cousins eat as if they hadn't in days and smiled at Sam's open frown with a look that 
begged for patience. 

Once they were all settled with their food, Frodo turned to his cousins, puzzled. 

"What?" asked Merry, stuffing his face with some of the bread that Sam brought for the 
picnic. 

"How did you two know I was here? In my secret hideaway." 

Pippin giggled and with a mouthful of potatoes, responded, "Secret? We've known of 
your secret lair for years." 

Merry cut in with a hearty laugh. "Seven years ago, while visiting you and Uncle Bilbo, 
we saw you wander off one day. Curious, we followed you. You never even saw us. See, 
we can be quiet." 

"Sometimes," said Pippin. "Hey -- pass the butter!" 

Frodo sighed and shook his head, handing Pip the requested item. "Am I not allowed any 
secrets? At all?" he asked to no one in particular. 

Pippin continued with a gentle smile. "When we saw that you weren't home and Sam was 
gone too, we put two and two together and came here straight away. Good thing too, 
after all, who would've helped you with eating all this food? Sam, you really know how 
to cook. Better then my ma's cooking." 

Sam ignored the praise and snorted. He still had not totally forgiven Pippin for his poor 
timing that had ruined his moment with Frodo. It seemed like forever he had longed for 
his Master and just when he was about to have that long awaited cake, he found he was 
going to have to wait a little bit longer. 

Finishing their meal, Sam started to clean up, while Frodo returned to his rock by the 
waterfalls. Curling himself up in his blanket, he stared sadly at the splashing water, losing 
himself within the beauty of nature. Glancing over at Pippin to see that he was back in 
the water swimming, Merry joined Frodo on the rock. For a few moments, a silence 
hung in the air and then finally, he spoke. "Frodo? Are you all right?" 

Lowering his eyes, Frodo refused to look at his cousin. 

"We didn't mean to spoil your secret hideaway. If you want to be alone, we'll leave. Its 
just...." 

"I know, I know. Bilbo told you to watch over me." 

"You haven't been the same since he left. We were worried." 

"I'm fine." Frodo finally turned and faced Merry. He tried again to lay their fears to rest. 
"Really, I'm fine..." 

"No, you're not fine. Frodo, you don't laugh like you used to. You've lost weight, Sam 
doesn't have to tell me you haven't been eating right, and those circles under your eyes 
tell me you haven't been sleeping well either. I'm also not stupid. I know what day today 
is."

 Frodo looked away. His eyes welled up with tears, and closing them, tightly, he sighed. 
"It just takes time to get used to living alone. That's all." 

Being alone was what he really meant, but somehow he had stopped those particular 
words from coming out. 

"I could move in with you. I know my da would have a bit of a fit, but I could -- after all, 
I am an adult now and allowed to make my own decisions. Then, you wouldn't be all 
alone." 

Frodo smiled sadly and picking up a few small pebbles, dropping them into the water. 
They caused several small circles of waves to fan out over the pond. 

"Brandy Hall hasn't been the same since you left. I missed you." 

"Have you? You have Pippin." 

Merry glanced out at the pond to see Pippin swimming towards them with a silly grin on 
his face and making funny noises in the water. 

"Its not the same. I love Pip, but he's not you." 

Frodo felt the hands press against his own and Frodo pulled gently away. 

"You were the only one that really understood me, and...and I enjoyed being with 
you...."

"Please Merry...don't...." 

Merry sighed and saw Frodo glance at Sam meaningfully. Sam was now kneeling at the 
far end of the pond cleaning his pots and pans, not seeing Frodo and Merry's interlude. 
Merry backed away a few inches. 

"I see." He then smiled lightly at his cousin. "Well, just make sure he fattens you up a bit, 
you're getting way too skinny." 

Frodo turned to smile at Merry, when a loud splash erupted, causing all of them to turn 
to the embankment to see that another uninvited guest had appeared. 

"Is this a private party or can anyone join in?!" 

Frodo gasped in surprise to see a dark haired hobbit holding several rocks in his hands 
skim them across the water; he had nearly hit Pippin as he swam towards Frodo and 
surely would have if Pippin hadn't ducked his head under. 

Rising to his feet, Merry saw Pippin come up gasping for air in front of him. 

"Lotho!" Frodo indignantly got to his own feet and quickly made his way over towards 
the unwanted Hobbit. "Stop throwing those rocks -- you could have hurt Pippin!" 

"Make me, Frodo Baggins!" Lotho sarcastically yelled and proceeded to throw several 
more rocks. 

Seeing this, Merry snatched Pippin literally out of the water and to safety, holding him 
back behind himself. Narrowing his eyes, Merry shot a dangerous look at the intruder. 
His hands fisted and it was obvious that Merry was fighting with his better judgment not 
to tear Lotho to pieces. 

"Enough!" Frodo quickly got in front of Lotho and stared him down. "No one invited 
you here. Go away, this is a part of my property given to me by Bilbo and I forbid you to 
come here ever again!" 

"Is it now? Property that should have belonged to me and my Mother. Property that you 
stole from us." 

"I have stolen nothing. Bilbo rightfully left it to me. Lobelia saw the papers. They were 
all legal and binding." 

"You have no right to be the Master of Bag End. Even when you were at Brandy Hall, it 
was obvious something was wrong with you. You never did fit in, always talking to the 
animals as if they could actually understand you, telling stories about elves and trying to 
learn Elvish like them, always reading books and going off on adventures. You didn't 
belong there and you certainly DON'T belong here either. You are nothing but a ratty 
orphan, stealing things that don't belong to you. Look at you. You with those blue eyes 
and fair skin. You don't even look like a real hobbit. Well, not a male one anyway. 
Perhaps that's it. Perhaps nature made a big mistake and you should have been a girl 
hobbit. You certainly have all the appearance of a girl with those lush full eyelashes of 
yours. Oh yes, let's have a look, shall we!" 

With a triumphant smile, he grabbed the blanket from Frodo's fingers and yanked it 
away. Sent off balance, Frodo fell backwards landing hard on his bottom. Staring up in 
surprise and horror, Frodo saw Lotho stare lustfully down at him. 

"Hmm, well I must say, nature certainly made you well endowed. Perhaps before these 
others get their fill of you, I could perhaps take first dibs. After all you have taken from 
us Sacksville-Bagginses, it would only be fair...."
 
***

This had gone on quite long enough.  The Ranger prepared to stand and defend HIS 
hobbit when someone took matters into their own hands.
***

THWANG! 

Merry had been just about ready to make his own move when Samwise Gamgee beat him 
to the punch. Literally. Lotho stood stock still for a moment and then a second later, he 
fell flat on his back. 

Standing over Lotho with enraged eyes, Sam held up one of his prized pans which he had 
used to hit Lotho right in the face. Narrowing his eyes, he glared down at Lotho. 

"You shut your dirty little mouth, you're not fit to look at my Master or call him names, 
you piece of filth. You ever say such things to my Master again or ever come near him, 
I'll give you a thrashing you won't soon forget or my name's not Samwise Gamgee!" 

Lotho slowly got to his feet, backing away, as he watched Sam lower the pan. The 
gardener reached down to collect the blanket and proceeded to cover Frodo's body. 

"I-I, I will get the Shariff on you for this! How dare you strike me! I will have you put in 
the stocks!" 

But as he went to get up, Merry came out of nowhere and gave Lotho a punch right 
dead center on the nose. Crying out in pain, Lotho backed up further in retreat. 

"You're not going to get the Shariff or tell anyone anything. Because if you do, I will 
inform Lobelia how you and Buddy Prattlefoot fancy each other." 

Stuttering in shock and holding his now bleeding nose, Lotho stared in horror at Merry 
Brandybuck. "That's a lie!" 

"Is it? Gee, I could've sworn that was you and Buddy out in Mr. Gaffin's wheat field last 
week with not a stitch of clothing between the two of you! Or how about last month, 
you and Agnes Grover were in the Mill up by Strattlefield. Perhaps I'll tell Lobelia all 
about that encounter at mid twilight!" 

Lotho gasped, turned and without another word, fled. 

Two apples hit him in the back, expertly thrown by one Peregrin Took, "And good 
riddance to ya!" Pip cried after him. 

Grinning, the three turned to look at Frodo to see that he was still sitting on the grass. 
Now covered in the blanket, he had buried his face into the cloth. 

"Mr. Frodo? Are you-?" 
"Frodo?" 

Seeing his body shaking slightly and concerned that Frodo was truly traumatized by 
Lotho's words, they were about to approach him and offer comfort when Frodo suddenly 
lifted his head, laughing uncontrollably. He gathered all three into his arms. 

"My heroes!" he shouted to all the world to hear. 

Sam, Pippin and Merry joined in laughing long and loud with their dearest friend. Frodo 
gave each of them a kiss, although Merry and Pippin were not surprised to see that Sam 
was the only one who got his kiss right smack on the lips. They were also not surprised 
that Sam turned beat red like a ripe tomato. 

With everything packed and Frodo now fully dressed, the four hobbits slowly made their 
way to Bag End. As they walked, Pippin and Merry talked on and on about the latest 
gossip, having already forgotten all about Lotho's interruption to their picnic. As for 
Frodo and Sam, they quietly walked behind them, smiling and holding hands. 
*** 

He watched the Hobbits leave the pond and, now rising to his feet, he slowly made his 
way to his horse. Smiling to himself, he knew that he was no longer needed -- at least not 
right now. This special little hobbit had all the protection he would need. Climbing on his 
steed, The Ranger made his way for Bree. As he did he couldn't help but allow his 
thoughts to turn back and reflect upon seeing the unique blue eyed hobbit, Frodo 
Baggins.

He hoped that someday they would see each other again. For, much like his faithful 
companions, The Ranger would find it an honor to protect and watch over this gentle 
hobbit, perhaps even meet face to face and get to know him more intimately. In the 
meantime, he would make certain his fellow Rangers would continue to guard the 
borders of the Shire. 

Strider now realized and agreed that Gandalf had found in all Middle-Earth a treasure 
worth protecting. 

2/10

He couldn’t stop thinking about Sam.  Ever since he had discovered that the gentle and 
quiet gardener returned his affections, Frodo Baggins couldn’t get Sam out of his 
thoughts.  

He knew he should be concerning himself with preparing to leave Bag End.  Already 
plans had been set in motion for him to head to Bree.  Gandalf felt that the ring Bilbo had 
entrusted to Frodo was of some diabolical evil, and needed to be taken out of the Shire.  
Though Frodo loved and trusted Gandalf, the small hobbit couldn’t help but waste his 
days pondering why HE, Frodo,  had to be the one to leave the Shire carrying the ring.  
He wanted nothing more then to stay in his home and see where his relationship with 
Sam could go.  

No, Frodo knew that within the week he would have to heed Gandalf’s plea and leave.  
He wouldn’t go alone, of course. Samwise had been caught eavesdropping and had 
somehow convinced Gandalf to let him make the journey with Frodo.  At the time, 
Frodo had liked the idea of having company, but his growing affection for Sam and the 
fear of what might happen on this journey was giving Frodo second thoughts.  

Oh, why did life have to be so complicated?  Frodo wanted to stay in the Shire and just 
forget the world’s troubles.  

Closing his eyes, Frodo sank low in the steaming hot tub, freshly poured out for him a 
half an hour ago by Sam.  From his window view, Frodo could hear Sam singing in the 
garden, working away without a care in the world.  

Pushing all his concerns aside, Frodo allowed himself to slip into a blissful day dream.  A 
dream he had been fantasizing since he last visited his secret hideaway.
***

The water cascaded over them, the two hobbits who were barely aware of the cold 
mountain water splashing against their skin, as they held each other in a close embrace.  

Even before they arrived, Frodo could feel the burning arousal in anticipation of what 
was to come.  Now, standing naked under the waterfall, he could barely suppress the 
desire fueled by Sam’s equally naked body pressed against him.  

Frodo had many times in his life been complimented on his striking elvish beauty but he 
couldn’t deny the beauty of Samwise Gamgee, who looked like the sun itself.  Frodo ran 
his fingers through the golden mane of curls and gently reached up for a light kiss on the 
lips.  Sam returned the kiss hungrily, opening his mouth and allowing Frodo to explore 
the hot recesses within.  

Frodo moaned in contentment, feeling himself harden even more, and felt Sam’s body 
responding.  

No more words needed to be said, and they caressed each other with gentle touches.  
Sam’s fingers explored the hollow of Frodo’s neck and chest, while Frodo enjoyed 
sliding his arms up and down Sam’s back, enjoying the feel of the golden tanned  skin.  

It was their first time and Frodo wanted the moment to last forever.  They needed this 
time to learn what touches brought the greatest pleasure and the most responses. 
Smiling, Frodo broke the kiss and embrace and turned his back to Sam.

Staying close, Frodo leaned his head back against the hollow of Sam’s neck and felt 
Sam’s arms wrap firmly around his waist.  The lips and tongue now nipped at his 
collarbone and Frodo felt himself moan in pure bliss.  Frodo joined his hands with Sam’s 
and together they remained nuzzling and cuddling, happy to be in each other’s arms, and 
content in their peaceful sanctuary.  

It was the calm before the storm.  Frodo’s mind darkened slightly.  He could almost feel 
the darkness coming, invading his private moment with Sam.  Frodo turned and gripped 
Sam tightly against him, wanting to banish the darkness from his mind and knowing only 
Sam could make it all go away.  

The sun shone brightly above them, but dark gray clouds were coming in, threatening to 
shatter this precious moment.  Closing his eyes tightly, Frodo allowed himself to be 
lowered on the rocks, and could feel Sam pressing himself hard against his chest.  Frodo 
writhed and cried out as the need became unbearable.

“Sam, Sam please!”  he cried.  He needed Sam now, needed to feel his member deep 
inside his body.  Needed to feel whole and one.  Needed to know that here and now he 
was truly loved.  He needed, oh how he needed...

But a harsh laugh was the only reply to his words. 

Frodo felt his body go cold and fear began to grip his mind.  Opening his eyes, Frodo 
was horrified to see that he was no longer under the waterfall.  Instead, he seemed to be 
on a stone bridge and all around him were hewn rock and flame.  Shaking, Frodo tried to 
rise, but that was when he saw the eye.  The dark, red burning eye.  

He tried to scream, he tried to run, but there was nowhere to go except into the lava,  
below the bridge.  Turning to the opening of the cave, he could see Sam, looking so far 
away, and yet so near.  He was screaming something towards him.  There was horror on 
his face, fear and pain.  Frodo made out only one word screaming from his mouth.  

“NO!” 

 Frodo tried to go towards him, to join Sam and take away the fear that seemed to be 
pouring deep into his very soul. But Frodo stopped when he saw a dark looming creature 
coming up behind his gardener, moving towards the one he loved.  A dark mass struck a 
deadly blow from behind and Frodo watched in horror as Sam fell to ground.  He lay 
unmoving and still as death.
 
It was just then Frodo screamed and fell.
***
Frodo cried out and floundered in the cooling tub.  He gasped for breath and shivered in 
recollection.    

It had only been a dream.  That’s all.  Swallowing, Frodo sighed and counted the 
seconds when Sam would be tearing down the door to see if his Master was alright.  No 
doubt Sam had probably heard his cry.  But after thirty seconds, Frodo realized Sam 
wasn’t coming.  

Maybe he hadn’t heard?  Good, it was just as well.  Silly, there he was having a 
wonderful dream and all this Gandalf and ring business destroyed it.  Getting up from the 
tub, Frodo wrapped himself tightly in one of his towels, vowing that no matter what he 
was going to make his dream with Sam at the waterfall a reality.  

Today, he would pack a picnic basket and tell Sam to take the day off, and together they 
would go to his secret lair.  They would spend the day in each other’s arms, enjoying the 
new love they had found in each other.

Reaching for his clothes, Frodo paused when he spotted something outside the window.  
There was Sam by the fence. Sam had stopped singing and trimming the rose bushes and 
was talking to someone by the gate.  Blinking, Frodo recognized Rose Cotton.  She was 
smiling at Sam and seemed to be talking urgently over something important.  Then, just 
like that, she reached over the fence and kissed Sam on the lips.  

Frodo felt his blood turn to ice. Horrified by the scene, he pulled away and hurriedly left 
the bath house, not daring to look back. 

In such haste, Frodo did not see Sam pull away from the unexpected kiss, nor hear him 
tell Rose Cotton that he was already spoken for. 
***
He did not watch Rosie run down path in tears at his rejection, instead returning to his 
trimming.  He did feel a bit sad for hurting Rosie, but Sam knew she would find someone 
else. Besides, he intended to finish trimming the rose bushes by noon and talk to Frodo 
about going for a long walk together. Maybe even go for a picnic at his Master’s favorite 
hideaway. Sighing contentedly, Sam couldn’t wait to hold Frodo in his arms and explore 
that wonderful hot mouth of his.  
***  

Frodo closed the door to his bedroom and laid quietly down on his bed.  Tears ran down 
his cheeks.  He tried to stop them but it was useless.  How could he have misread all that 
Sam had said to him?  Surely when Sam confessed he loved his Master he meant it 
literally, not love like a friend or family member?  But he saw it with his own eyes.  Rose 
and Sam. Together.  Kissing.  

It was normal, Frodo tried to reason with himself.  It was right.  The relationship with 
him and Sam would never work.  Besides why shouldn’t Sam want Rose, she was 
beautiful and friendly and sweet.  She was one of the kindest hobbits he knew.  But 
Frodo felt the pain tighten in his chest, and curling up into a ball, Frodo realized the 
truth.  Didn’t Bilbo just up and leave him?  Didn’t Lotho himself say it plainly? 

 *You didn't belong there and you certainly DON'T belong here either. You are nothing 
but a ratty orphan, stealing things that don't belong to you.* 

He didn’t belong here, he never did.  Why was he destined to always be alone? Why did 
the Valar hate him so?  First they took his parents, then Bilbo and now Sam, his Sam.  
Closing his eyes, Frodo silently wept.  Why doesn’t anyone love me?

When a knock came at his door an hour later, Frodo answered it curtly.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Frodo, are you going to come on out?  It’s time for lunch.”

Frodo swallowed, and with an effort, he kept his voice neutral and soft.

“Not right now Sam, I’m tired.  I want to sleep.  Why don’t you head home?  I’ll see you 
tomorrow.”  

Tomorrow.  Yes, tomorrow he would finish his tears and by then he would be his old self 
again.  Frodo would tell Sam how happy he was for him and Rose Cotton, he would 
even laugh.  But not today.  No, not today.
  
***

Sam stood at the door confused.  A part of him told him to open this door and see what 
was wrong with his Master and maybe even provide him some comfort in his arms.  But 
Sam was torn between his love for Frodo and his place as a simple gardener in Frodo’s 
employ.  Sighing and with great hesitation, Sam turned and glancing back, he vowed that 
tomorrow he would come back and find out exactly what was going on.  Tomorrow.  

As Sam headed for home his mind turned to other thoughts.  A dream actually, a dream 
he promised himself would be fulfilled.  A dream where Frodo was in his arms, standing 
under a water fall, making love to him.   It was only a fantasy, but one that Sam would 
do his best to make come true.

***
Stripping off the last layers of clothing, the tall rugged ranger dived into the cool 
refreshing pool of water, making his way slowly towards the waterfall.  All around him 
the sounds of nature were calling him. Birds singing, the sun shining and not a cloud in 
the sky.  It was a bit warm, but nothing unbearable, a perfect day to take a long-needed 
bath.  

Under the spray, he allowed the water to cascade down his body.  He rubbed softly at his 
skin, slowly ridding himself of the dirt and grime he had resigned himself to since he 
became a ranger of the north.  

There was a time in his younger days, while living in Rivendell, that he wouldn’t go a day 
without a long cleansing bath.  But in the wild, he would often go weeks before he could 
allow himself such a luxury.  

He closed his gray-blue eyes and allowed his mind to drift away.  It wasn’t long though, 
before a distinct sound from behind him reopened his eyes.  Turning to his left, he 
blinked in surprise to see a familiar looking creature staring up at him a few feet away.  

He was just as naked as Strider, and it was quite obvious that the creature had come for 
his own private bath and was shocked to not only find his secret hideaway being 
occupied by someone, but by a human no less.  

He tried to smile to reassure the hobbit that he meant no harm, but still the gentle hobbit 
gazed at him.  Only his eyes no longer looked shocked, but impressed. They roamed over 
his body in obvious adoration. 

He smiled wider, and intended to step away, when the hobbit slowly stepped forward. 
 
Without a word the two came together under the waterfall.  There eyes locked.  Gray 
eyes met blue and both were inquisitive and shy as if not sure what to do next.

He was about to speak when the young hobbit reached for him.  His hands roved gently 
over Strider’s thighs and waist, exploring this unknown territory.  He paused a moment, 
then continued when he realized the human would not stop him.

Surprised by the Hobbit’s curiosity, he allowed the touch and groaned as his sensitive 
skin tingled at the feeling of those hands.

When the hobbit paused, the Ranger opened his eyes and knelt.  Now level with the 
hobbit, he took his turn reaching out to touch the wet dark brown curls of his hair.  The 
hair was as smooth and soft as he had imagined, and the skin was like silk. Not sure 
whether he would scare the hobbit, he gently moved forward, making sure that the 
hobbit could see exactly what he was doing.  He wanted a taste of that mouth.  That 
beautiful little mouth.  

The hobbit closed his blue eyes, and responded in kind, opening his mouth.

Lips touched lightly at first, then moved closer and harder.  He bit, gently causing the 
hobbit to open his mouth, and the man’s tongue delved deep into the warmth.  

The sensations were causing his body to respond and as he clung to the hobbit, he could 
feel the response was returned.  

He knew he could not risk penetration, he had no special oils that would make the 
moment easier and besides he did not know how far the hobbit was willing to explore the 
strange human that was in his homeland.  

His curiosity was rewarded, however, when the Ranger felt Frodo’s hands reach out and 
began to touch other parts of his body.  He stroked the Rangers back; his waist; even 
dared to touch the white round mounds of his bottom.  

Blissfully the Ranger could hear the Hobbit’s whimpers, responding to his touches and 
taste.  He did not understand what was happening, nor did he care.  Aragorn decided to 
go with the moment before him, and pulling Frodo closer into his arms, he continued to 
lay kisses and gentle nips on Frodo’s neck, ears and collarbone. 

In reply the hobbit seemed to melt in his arms. Seconds later, Aragorn lowered Frodo 
onto the rock and mounted him.  Their bodies converged together and in their heated 
passion they began to move against each other, building a momentum and friction that 
pleased both their growing arousal.  

The pace picked up as the hobbit tried to increase his thrusts and the Ranger met them 
with strength and gentleness.  The urge came to its climax seconds later when the Ranger 
felt the hobbit shake suddenly underneath him, and warm semen hit his thighs. Looking 
down at the hobbit, he saw Frodo open his mesmerizing blue eyes and moaned, lost in his 
own reverie.  Overcome by the hobbit’s passion, he came crying out Frodo’s name and 
all the while the Hobbit held on tight. Never releasing his hold over the human.

When the moment passed and he had recovered sufficiently, Aragorn stared down 
lovingly at the creature and began to stroke his wet curls from that elf like face.  

“With my sword, my heart and soul, I will protect and love you all the days of your life.”

Hearing this, the Hobbit smiled in contentment.

***

Opening his eyes, it took Aragorn several seconds to realize he was not at the waterfall 
but nestled under a tree.  Morning was coming and he would be arriving in Bree by late 
afternoon.  Sighing, he winced when he felt the hardness between his legs.  It brought 
back the dream.  Only a dream.  

As he packed up his belongings, ignoring the throbbing between his legs, Aragorn 
grimaced, thinking about the erotic dream.  Ever since he had laid eyes on that hobbit, he 
had not been able to stop thinking about Frodo Baggins.  He realized the halfling was 
slowly becoming an obsession and he knew it was not wise to keep dwelling on the 
impossible. 
 
Frodo Baggins, first of all, was obviously in love with his gardener and second, Aragorn, 
himself was already spoken for.  In Rivendell, Arwen waited for him.  
He was only supposed to be looking after the halfling and making sure he was safe and 
sound, not fall in love with him.  

Getting onto his horse, he wiped his tired eyes and tried to focus on the matters at hand. 
Gandalf was waiting for him in Bree and wished to speak to him on urgent business that 
had something to do with the nameless fear in the East. Aragorn had to keep his mind 
focused, as he realized that falling in love with a hobbit was even worse then having 
fallen in love with an immortal elf princess.  Both were impossible fantasies. 
 
Shaking his head, he headed down the nearest path that would lead him to Bree and on 
to whatever the future had in store for him.

3/4 

He was big, scruffy, smelled like horse and looked like a wild man from the mountains. A 
ranger, he had been told, dangerous. Frodo had never felt so intrigued or attracted to a 
human male before. 

All right, so this was the first real human he had ever met, so what? Frodo found he had 
to really focus on his breathing while in the presence of the man. 

Frodo couldn't believe all that had happened in the past few days. It all seemed to be like 
a whirlwind, possibly a dream. Or a nightmare. 

He had made a mad dash out of the Shire and ever since, had been trying to evade some 
dark creatures that seemed to be hot on their trail. Accompanied by Sam and his two 
cousins, Frodo made his way to Bree, where he hoped Gandalf would be waiting for him. 
Instead, he arrived at the Inn of the Prancing pony to learn Gandalf that had not arrived 
and hadn't been seen in Bree in over six months. 

Fearful and more then a bit worried, Frodo had tried to relax with a few mugs of ale in 
the bar and wound up getting into even more trouble. It had been an accident, or had it? 
One moment, Frodo was attempting to silence Pippin from revealing his real name to the 
patrons in the bar, and the next, he was on the ground, invisible, with his Uncle's magic 
ring on his finger. So much for being incognito. 

It had been an honest mistake and one that Frodo tried to fix by removing the ring and 
hiding under a table. However, the next thing he knew, he was snatched up angrily by a 
tall, rugged looking man, dragged up the stairs and thrown into a private room. Now 
here he was -- alone and looking up at a mysterious man who appeared to be chastising 
him for his foolishness and all the while, Frodo had to keep himself from drooling over 
the human's appearance. 

Breathe, breathe, just remember to breathe. 

"Are you frightened?" 

"Yes." Frodo responded, wanting to say so much more and found he couldn't. 

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." 

Frodo never took his eyes off the human, and as the man paced the room snuffing out 
candles, the Hobbit felt his heart speed up. Ever since he had realized that Sam's love had 
turned to Rosie, he had accepted the fact that he would spend the rest of his life alone. 
He had tried to distance himself from Sam so as to allow his gardener to pursue his true 
interest. 

But Sam hadn't even looked back when they left the Shire, refusing to leave Frodo's side. 
It had been a grueling journey for the Master of Bag End and Frodo so wanted to throw 
himself into Sam's arms and plead with him to choose him over Rosie Cotton. Instead 
Frodo had chosen silence. Seeing Sam's ever increasing confusion and annoyance, Frodo 
was starting to have his doubts at what he had witnessed outside his window a week ago. 
But Sam did kiss Rosie. Well, Rosie kissed Sam and well, what ever happened 
afterwards he would never know because he had bolted like a deer. 

His Sam, his dear sweet Sam. He still loved him, completely and utterly but Frodo knew 
he had to let Sam go. It wasn't until after the attack at the Brandywine Bridge that Frodo 
realized he was being childish in running from the problem with Rosie. He was not a 
tweenager anymore and he would have to confront Sam and find out truly where Sam's 
heart lay. But not now -- he had too much to deal with as it was. 

The Ring that he now carried was pure evil and somehow, he had to get it as far as he 
could away from the Shire. If only Gandalf was here. If only Gandalf had taken the ring 
from him, then he could be home trying to woo Sam back into his arms. But what if Sam 
was already lost to him? How could he compete with Rosie Cotton. She was beautiful, 
kind and ...female. She could give him babies and all the things he couldn't. 

Oh, why do things have to be so complicated? And just when Frodo thought things 
couldn't get worse, he was now...staring at this human, this very handsome, scruffy 
looking human, and all his words seemed to be stuck in his throat. 

Breathe, just breathe, Frodo, told himself again. You are in love with Sam, you cannot 
possibly fall for a human. Especially one who hovered over you, reprimanding you on 
your foolishness at putting on the Ring after Gandalf specifically told you not to. 

Frodo felt his heart thump loudly in his chest and wondered what the man would look 
like smiling, washed...naked, and in bed. 

'ohhhh' Finding his courage at last, Frodo was about to ask the human his name when the 
door to the room slammed open and three angry, protective Hobbits came rushing in, 
ready to fight and take down anyone trying to harm there companion. For a moment, 
Frodo wanted to jump with joy and cry out, "My heroes" but then though better of it.

Glancing at the man, Frodo could see the humorous glint he cast at his kin and gardener. 
It was not of annoyance, but genuine affection. It was there for a moment, and then 
gone.

"Let him GO! Or I'll have you, Longshanks!" cried an enraged blond-haired Hobbit who 
held up his fists, ready to take on the human even though he was taller and obviously 
stronger. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that will not save you." The Ranger 
had grimaced and turned to Frodo. "You cannot wait for the wizard. They are coming." 
**** 

Aragorn watched the Hobbits sleep soundly in their beds, feeling more then a bit annoyed 
at himself. He hadn't meant to be so harsh with Frodo but when he had seen Frodo fall 
and then vanish in front of everyone in the bar room, Aragorn had felt his heart leap into 
his throat. He had sworn to protect the Hobbit at all costs and that foolish escapade had 
cost them dearly. Already he could feel the stillness and evil in the air. "They" would 
soon arrive. 

He would have to get the Hobbits out of there and take them to a place of safety. The 
only place that came to mind was Rivendell. His foster father would be able to look after 
the Hobbits until he could locate the missing Gandalf. Aragorn cast a long look at the 
bed and saw that Frodo was tossing restlessly in his sleep. Poor Hobbit. He did feel 
guilty for chastising Frodo. 

Upon seeing those frightened blue eyes as he scolded the halfling, Aragorn had tried to 
soften his tone of voice. A little too late, Frodo now looked at him with eyes like a 
startled horse ready to bolt at any sudden movement. He had envisioned meeting Frodo 
so many ways, but this had not been the one he had dreamed of. Just before Sam and 
Frodo's cousins had broken into the room Aragorn had paused his reprimand for a 
moment fighting a sudden urge to hold and kiss the Hobbit to make up for the fright he 
had caused. The entrance of his kin put that thought out of his head. 

Aragorn was still amused when the blond Hobbit had threatened the Ranger with his 
fists, all in an effort to protect his master from harm. The gardener had no idea that he 
was outmatched in fighting skills and yet, he still was ready to defend Frodo to the end. 
Perhaps even to death. That was one very brave Hobbit. Cute too. Especially when 
angry, his eyes just puffed out and those lips and cheeks. Aragorn dropped his head in his 
hand and sighed. 

Wonderful. Not only was he still dealing with lusting after the Master of Bag End but 
also the Master's gardener. When did this get all so complicated? Falling for one Hobbit 
was bad enough, especially with Arwen waiting for him in Rivendell, but to now feel 
something for two Hobbits was getting to be ridiculous. Why were his emotions getting 
so out of control? What was it that made these Hobbits so alluring? 

'The eyes? Both of them had the most interesting eyes, ones that you could drown in. 
Was it their innocence? Their purity of heart? The love they so obviously carried for one 
another? What was---?' 

The sound of a scream pulled his thoughts to the present, and Aragorn stared out the 
window, his worst fears realized. The Nazgul had come. The Hobbits all awoke to the 
sounds of high-pitched screams and the sound of swords slashing. Frodo, the most 
frightened, had climbed nearly out of the bed in one jump and if Aragorn didn't know 
better, nearly into his arms. The Hobbit seemed on the verge of doing just that when he 
suddenly sat back down on the edge of the bed, trying to keep the fear out of his eyes. 
He failed miserably and Aragorn ached to reach out and console the now trembling 
creature in his arms. 

"What are they?" Frodo asked. 

Aragorn told them the story of the Nazgul, all the while continuing his vigil at the 
window. A part of him wanted to shield the Hobbits from the truth and of the evil that 
was hunting them, but something inside made him tell them everything in the hopes that 
they would understand the peril they were in. 

Long after the Nazgul had departed and the other Hobbits had fallen back to sleep, 
Aragorn saw Frodo remain sitting on the edge of the bed, staring off into the distance, 
his face darkened with a growing fear. It was indeed obvious that Frodo realized he was 
in way over his head and that his gardener and cousins were in grave danger. He no 
longer looked like the Master of Bag End but a child lost at sea. Aragorn watched him, 
feeling more then just pity and compassion for the alarmed Hobbit. 

"Frodo, they are gone for now. Try to get some sleep." 

Frodo only continued to stare at the wall, the dread still evident in his eyes. Aragorn rose 
from his place and bending low, he reached out, cupping the small face in his hands. 
Turning those eyes towards him, he smiled gently at the Hobbit, hoping to rid that 
terrible fear from those beautiful, large blue eyes. 

"Don't be afraid, I will watch over you. No harm shall befall you. I promise!" Aragorn 
watched as Frodo's eyes started to fill with tears. Not knowing what else to do, Aragorn 
moved closer and hoping that he wouldn't get a knife in his throat, he kissed the Hobbit 
softly on the lips. It wasn't a deep, open kiss, but it was swift and light. The Hobbit froze 
in surprise, his eyes widening. Aragorn waited for the worst. 

He hadn't meant to do that. He had only meant to comfort the Hobbit but those big blue 
eyes filled with tears had overcome his better judgment and now that he had done it, he 
could not undo it. He waited for a long moment and then, just as he feared he'd made a 
big mistake, a slow smile appeared on Frodo's lips. The Hobbit then spoke softly and the 
words confused Aragorn but made sense to the halfling. 

"Someone to watch over me." With that smile on his lips, Frodo moved back into the bed 
and back into the position he'd held before being awoken by the screams of the Nazgul.

Sam rolled beside him and somehow feeling his master's presence, his arms wrapped 
around his body, pulling him into a consoling embrace. Aragorn returned to his seat and 
gazed warily out the window, glancing back to see Frodo still smiling and staring warmly 
at him. 

The fear that had taken its hold had lessoned and the shadows were fading. Aragorn 
breathed a sigh of relief and was grateful that Frodo felt comforted and could now sleep 
in the arms of his gardener, protected by this scruffy ranger. When Aragorn woke the 
Hobbits in the morning the smile was still on Frodo's face. 

**** 

He was in Love. He was in love with Sam and Frodo felt a growing sensation of warm 
emotion for the Ranger who now guided them to Rivendell. 

Merry had been suspicious of Strider at first. He'd felt it would be better to stay where 
there were lots of people and that going into the wild was foolhardy. But Frodo was the 
leader of his kin and once Frodo put his foot down and told them that they would go 
with Strider, Merry had no choice but to grudgingly agree. 

Pippin seemed more upset about missing his meals then about the Nazgul or that they 
were heading for Rivendell. 

As for Sam, Frodo wasn't sure what he was thinking at the moment. He was taking up 
the rear and leading Bill the pony with most of their belongings. For this, Frodo was 
grateful. He needed time to sort out his thoughts and the new sensations he was feeling 
for the Ranger. Every time Strider would look back, Frodo felt butterflies in his stomach. 

Once, Strider chanced to look back just as Frodo was trying to imagine what the human 
looked like underneath all that clothing. Frodo met his eyes, and felt his cheeks redden. 
But he was also not watching where he was walking and tripped over a rock, flying head 
over heals on the hard terrain. Moments later, Frodo was surrounded by three concerned 
Hobbits and one worried human. Not one of my better moments, thought Frodo. 

**** 

What was the matter with Frodo? Sam just couldn't figure anything out. Ever since they 
left the Shire, Sam could feel Frodo pushing him away and it was driving Sam crazy. 
Frodo knew how he felt about him. Did Frodo suddenly change his mind? Did he 
suddenly realize it wasn't love that he felt for his gardener? Had Sam been played a fool? 
Sam had wanted so desperately to get Frodo alone so they could talk but when a brief 
opportunity came, Sam couldn't summon up the nerve to speak. After all, what could he 
say? Why don't you love me anymore? Have you stopped caring for me sounded well, 
childish. Silly even. Then the next thing he knew, Pippin and Merry were along for the 
ride and well, he just couldn't say anything with them around, now could he? 

Then there was this Strider. This mysterious Ranger. The moment he saw Strider snatch 
Frodo from the bar and take him away, Sam had felt terror unlike any he had ever known 
before. Even when the Gaffer had been at his most angry over his wayward son Sam had 
never been so frightened. He had promised Gandalf that he would look after Frodo and 
he meant to keep that promise. Those few minutes with Frodo out of his sight had been a 
feeling he never wanted to experience again. 

He had disliked the Ranger at first. But now as he led them to Rivendell, Sam had to say 
that Strider wasn't such a bad sort. Even if he was human. He didn't walk too fast and 
often set a pace that Frodo and the rest of them could keep up with. Strider also hunted 
and made sure they were, for the most part, fed. He also helped each of them, especially 
Frodo, if the terrain got a little too rough. He would even carry Frodo in his arms if the 
need arose. Sam thought that maybe he should be jealous or even protective of his 
Master being carried around by a human but instead, Sam had to marvel at the strength 
of the man. There was more to this Ranger then his looks. He had a walk and speech 
about him that made him stand out, although Sam didn't think he was especially 
attractive, not with all that dirt and hair on his face, but he was fascinating. 

Looking back at his Master, Sam felt such a sense of loss and confusion. Why didn't 
Frodo want him anymore? What had he done to cause Frodo to stray? 

Sam did not miss the glances that Frodo cast at the Ranger or the ones the ranger cast 
back at his Master. It did not take great intelligence to see that they were both attracted 
to each other. Sam should have felt some form of jealousy over that but instead he 
felt...pensive and sort of left out. 

He just didn't understand what was going on around him and what was going on inside 
his head. He only knew that he loved Frodo. After this ring business, he was going to 
have it out with Frodo once and for all. Do you love me or don't you? It is that simple, 
right? Right. 

**** 

Aragorn couldn't believe it. How could he have been so stupid as to leave the Hobbits 
alone? How could he have known that the Nazgul would attack? Guilt hit him hard in his 
gut and Aragorn felt nothing but remorse and anger at his own mistake. 

Frodo now lay on the ground, stabbed by a Morgul blade and surrounded by three 
frightened Hobbits who wanted to know if their friend would die. Snatching up the 
Hobbit in his arms, he started the long run through the forest whispering hope and words 
of consolation to the being he had grown to love deeply these past few weeks. He could 
hear Frodo calling out feverishly for Gandalf while Sam lamented loudly that they'd never 
make it, given that Rivendell was six days away. 

"Hold on Frodo, Hold on!" 

How could he have been so stupid? Was it just last night, long after the other Hobbits 
had fallen asleep that Frodo had crept from his sleeping area and sat beside him by the 
fire? He had told the Hobbit to go back to sleep but Frodo stayed where he was, looking 
at him with such longing that Aragorn felt as if his heart would explode. 

He had then taken the Hobbit into his arms and Frodo had welcomed the embrace. There 
were no words spoken, only hands reaching out, touching, feeling, wanting. It had felt 
like a fever, a burning that needed to be extinguished. 

Moving a bit away from the fire and away from the others, Aragorn had removed his 
clothes, watching Frodo doing the same. For several moments they just stared at each 
other's bodies and then they were holding each other, touching and kissing. Licking. It 
had been too long for Aragorn and with just a few rubbing strokes, he came, with Frodo 
close on his heels. 

It had been rushed and Aragorn had sworn that the next time he would be slower. For 
now, he contended himself with holding Frodo in his arms and kissing him over and over 
again. Worshipping his body in every way while the Hobbit smiled up at him. Words still 
were not spoken when Frodo gathered up his clothing and returned to the fire. 

Aragorn had dressed and joined Frodo, and for a brief time, they just stayed by each 
other's side. Then yawning, Frodo smiled once more and returned to his bed and within 
minutes drifted off to sleep. 

Aragorn knew he needed to speak to Frodo, that they had much to discuss but for the 
time being, he allowed Frodo to dream in peace. As he gathered more wood, Aragorn 
paused at a movement behind him. Turning, he saw Samwise Gamgee sitting up from his 
place beside the fire, staring at him with eyes filled with tears. 

He didn't say a word, he just remained still, tears falling one by one down his cheeks. 
Then Sam laid down once again and turned to face away from Aragorn and the other 
Hobbits. Pulling the blankets around himself, he wept in silence. 

Aragorn felt a slash of pain hit him. It was then that he had realized what he had done. 
He had not only broken his vows to Arwen but he had unwittingly hurt Sam. Sam who 
was so in love with Frodo. What's more, it was worsened by the fact that Aragorn knew 
Sam was in love with Frodo, had known it back at the waterfalls weeks ago. The Ranger 
could almost feel the powers above stare down at him in disapproval. 

In the morning, he had risen and gotten breakfast ready for the Hobbits. Frodo had 
attempted to reach out to him to caress his hand or stroke his shoulder, a small inviting 
smile tugging at his lips. But spotting Sam a few feet away, Aragorn stiffened at the 
touch and found himself moving away. Ignoring the pained look on Frodo's face Aragorn 
once again set the walking pace, making sure to keep ahead of the Hobbits and away 
from Frodo's touch. 

Frodo attempted to seek solace with Sam by slowing his pace and walking at Sam's side, 
only to find the gardener quickening his pace and avoiding all of Frodo's efforts to start a 
conversation. It didn't take long for Frodo to realize that the two he loved most in the 
world were no longer speaking to him. 

Aragorn only once looked back, to see Frodo's eyes downcast. The Hobbit never looked 
so small, so helpless, so hurt or so alone. The rest of the day was spent in silence; only 
Merry's and Pippin's constant chatter broke the somber quiet of the group. But not even 
their light spirits could effect the dark cloud that had come over their friends and 
companions. 

When they arrived at Weathertop, Aragorn had decided a retreat away from the Hobbits 
was required. He could scout the area and hopefully when he returned, all would be well 
between Frodo and Sam. Instead, half way down the slope he heard the distinct cries of 
the Nazgul followed by the sound of Frodo screaming. 

‘If Frodo lived through this, if Frodo lived...he would...he would....’
 
4/5 

Darkness was taking him, he could feel himself drowning in it. Let it happen. Frodo 
wanted to drift away into that darkness and with it he hoped, find oblivion. He had never 
felt so much pain and anguish before and it wasn't entirely all from the blade imbedded in 
his chest.

He tried to breathe and the pain increased. He was so cold and hot all at the same time. 
He could see flashes of faces in front of him, but they seemed so far away.

One of the faces he knew but couldn't quite name. He was stroking Frodo and trying to 
tell him about Trolls. Who was he? He seemed to be kind and worried and yet something 
told Frodo he was not deserving of such attention. At least not from him.

The other face had also peered down at him. A rugged, ranger who kept trying to call 
him back from the black dream he seemed to be floating within.  

He didn't want to come back. Their was no reason to come back. He was alone, 
completely and utterly alone. He was unloved and unwanted. Frodo only wanted to slip 
away into the shelter of oblivion and then the pain lanced inside his chest and he found 
himself gasping and crying out painfully.

He could feel them, they were calling to him, wanting him to come to them.
He wanted to go to them. Yes, they would take care of him. They would watch over 
him. He would never be alone again.  

Through the darkness, Frodo saw the burning red eye staring down at him and 
frightened, Frodo shook uncontrollably and started to scream. He was coming for him, 
he was coming!

Another face appeared from him, a face he did not know. It was the face of a woman, 
no, not a woman...a she elf. She was speaking to him and calling to him. He didn't want 
to come back. Not to the pain. He wanted to beg the beautiful lady to let him go. He had 
no reason to come back. He was alone.

But she continued to speak and Frodo felt himself doing as she bid, even though a part of 
him didn't want too. He felt himself being lifted once more and again everything began to 
swim around him. The face of the Ranger drifted in his vision and then the beautiful elf 
woman. They seemed to be talking. About him? Then the next thing Frodo felt was the 
wind in his hair and the loud sound of hooves as they galloped in haste away from the 
faces.

Where was he being taken? What does it matter? He closed his eyes and allowed himself 
to drift away from the light. Darkness and oblivion were what he craved now. The red 
eye appeared and Frodo no longer felt fear, he no longer felt pain. He no longer felt 
anything. Fading, fading, fading.  

****  

"By the Grace of the Valar, let him be spared. Save him!"

The unfamiliar face appeared before him and Frodo heard the call. The words were in 
elvish and yet he could understand them. The man was beckoning him to return to the 
light. Calling him “Little One”. At first Frodo resisted, but the mysterious male elf was 
persistent and continued the call. 

It was a nice face, older than it appeared, and the voice was so alluring. Deep and strong. 
The most fascinating feature was his eyes. They were black as night with stars sparkling 
from within. They were beautiful eyes, kind eyes.

He was so tired, so tired. Why won't they let me go? Please let me go. I have no reason 
left to live.  

****  

Come back to us, Little One, he called again in Elvish. Ever since the halfling had been 
deposited in his arms, the Lord of Rivendell had felt nothing but pain pouring off the 
Hobbit’s body in waves. Elrond had to use all his reserves to prevent himself from 
becoming one with the other's pain. If Elrond didn't, he would not be able to save the 
Hobbit and in fact, would lose his own soul.

Setting Frodo down upon the bed, Elrond finally got a good look at the small creature 
and saw at once a special and unique light emanating from within him. It was the purest 
light he had ever seen, an aura of brilliant colors. The elf had only encountered this form 
of light once before, and that was a long time ago, not since the first age. This creature 
was special. 

Glancing once more at the face of the Hobbit, Elrond thought he saw some sort of elvish 
lineage within him. No, not elvish, but he was not a pure breed. The Hobbit had some 
other form of blood heritage. What was it? It was unique and a breed that no longer 
existed in Middle-Earth. Where had he seen such light before?

Forcing his questions aside, he concentrated on the present and undressed the Hobbit. 
Calling for his aides, he began to use all the knowledge and power at his command to 
save this creature. Something told him that Frodo's survival depended on more then just 
his own kin and friends’ love, and would impact the fate of all Middle-Earth. 
 
****  

Later...
He sighed in exhaustion, leaning heavily in his chair. Glancing at the bed, he allowed the 
feeling of relief to take over. He would live. It had been close. Too close. Frodo's 
passing into the shadow world had almost occurred. Elrond had to use everything he had 
to prevent the Hobbit from being lost to them. As it was, the Hobbit would never fully 
recover from this wound. It would haunt him for the rest of his life.

That grieved Elrond's heart intensely. In delving deep into Frodo's core, and in the 
process of pulling him back from the darkness, Elrond had seen Frodo's very soul. It had 
one of the most beautiful auras he had ever seen. It had shocked him and delighted him in 
many ways.

Since he and his kin were preparing to leave the shores of Middle-Earth, Elrond had 
spent the past several centuries avoiding getting too close to another being. Other then 
his children and a few friends and a sly, halfling burglar, he had done well, he thought, at 
protecting his heart. But now, seeing this being, this small and gentle creature, Elrond 
knew that leaving was going to be more difficult then he’d thought.

The ancient elf had also experienced some of Frodo's inner feelings, memories and 
thoughts. He could see that the Halfling was quite intelligent, an eager mind ready to 
take in as much knowledge as he could get. He was also generous and an innocent. Pure 
of heart didn't even come close to describing Frodo, and with all this beauty, Elrond 
could see that the halfling was filled with turmoil and heartache.

Frodo was a lonely soul ever searching for his place in life. He had suffered greatly in his 
childhood and it seems recent events had added to his pain. He was a creature calling out 
for love and receiving none in return. That was why it had been so difficult to pull Frodo 
back from the shadows. The young Hobbit had wanted and craved an ending to his 
loneliness.

Elrond felt deep sorrow for this little one. Deep sadness and anger. For, Elrond could see 
who had recently harmed him and how. But these things would have to wait. For now, 
Frodo was sleeping peacefully, and the Elf Lord needed to find a place to meditate, to 
regain his own strength before dealing with the pressing matters at hand. 

Unfortunately, a broken hearted Hobbit was the least of this world’s troubles. Yet, 
Elrond would not push away this one's pain carelessly. He would do what he must but he 
would also do what he could for this star of light.  


Rising to his feet, Elrond moved to leave only to stop when he saw a tall, robed figure 
standing in the doorway.

"How is he?"

Elrond smiled and nodded. "He will live."

Elrond walked out and left the Hobbit in the hands of the wizard. Of all the people Frodo 
had ever met, it was he, Gandalf the Grey, Elrond knew, that had never hurt him.
Something told him that if anyone could help Frodo, it would be this Istari. 

Closing the door behind him, Elrond made his way to his room and along the way, he 
spotted Aragorn arriving in the courtyard with three other Hobbits.

Elrond watched the Hobbits being ushered away by his people all the while asking after 
Frodo and his condition. The blond-haired one was shouting the loudest, demanding to 
be taken to his Master at once. His people remained solicitous and took the Hobbits to a 
place where they could rest.

It took only a moment for Aragorn to realize he was being watched and he looked up to 
meet the ancient eyes. The Ranger's eyes held fear and worry and for a moment, Elrond 
was tempted to scold his foster son. He had much to reprimand him for. He even 
narrowed his eyes in anger. But on seeing those fearful eyes, Elrond relented. Whatever 
words he had for his foster son could also wait. Elrond nodded his head once and 
softening his eyes, turned and walked away.

Alone in the courtyard, Aragorn sat down heavily on the bench. He knew. Elrond already 
knew. How long before Arwen would find out? How was he ever going to make up for 
all the hurt he had caused? Not just to Arwen, Elrond, and Sam...but to Frodo. Frodo 
most of all. Frodo who had been reaching out for someone to watch over him, someone 
to love him, and in return, Aragorn had given the Hobbit nothing but sorrow.

'Oh Frodo, I'm sorry. So sorry!' 
 
****  

Frodo awoke from his dreams to see that the world of sunlight embraced him and not 
only the sun, but also his wizard. For a time, Frodo had asked his questions. Where was 
he? Why hadn't his wizard met him in Bree as promised?

But after most of his questions had been answered, Frodo still felt a heavy weight on his 
heart. Gandalf, who sat quietly in a chair puffing away on his pipe, seemed to see 
Frodo’s brow draw together in deep thought and Gandalf at once could feel the Hobbit’s 
pain.

After an unbearably long silence, Gandalf leaned forward and reached for Frodo's hand. 
He peered deep into his blue eyes and knew not just the Ring lay heavy on this Hobbit’s 
mind. Something else, that threatened Frodo's very being.

"Tell me."

Frodo tried not to look into the wizard’s eyes but somehow, they found their way. 
Unable to help himself Frodo reached out with his arms and waited for the rejection he 
knew was to come. Instead, Frodo found himself wrapped in a loving embrace.

"Tell me, my dear Hobbit. Tell me everything!" Gandalf held the Hobbit tightly in his 
arms, swearing he would not let him go.

Burying his face into Gandalf's beard, Frodo began to pour out his story. Throughout the 
tale, Frodo's sobs and cries continued and when the story was over, Frodo waited for the 
wizard to shove him away in disgust. That did not happen.

The wizard only gathered the Hobbit into his arms and held Frodo to his chest all the 
more tightly, rocking him ever so gently.

When the tears finally stopped and Frodo had drifted off into a deep sleep, only then did 
Gandalf let Frodo go. He lovingly placed Frodo back under the covers, brushing back the 
wet curls and wiping several stray tears from the Hobbit’s cheeks. 

After a long moment, Gandalf sat back in his chair, and, taking out his pipe, he once 
again began to draw long deep puffs of smoke from it. If someone had chanced by, they 
would have thought the wizard was in quiet contemplation, but if they had taken a better 
look, they would have seen the anger flashing dangerously in his eyes.  

****  

"What were you thinking?" Elrond stood in the middle of the garden looking at Aragorn, 
who couldn't seem to meet his foster father’s eyes. "Or should I ask, were you thinking?"

"I know that I will have to speak to Arwen."

"Indeed you will. I will not speak for her, for she is of age to make up her own mind on 
certain matters. But I must say I am deeply disappointed in you – and not only because 
you are betrothed or that this transgression was done to a Hobbit or that he was a male 
Hobbit, or should I say also the heir of Bilbo Baggins who is supposed to be a dear 
friend of yours!"

"I am sorry, Ada," Aragorn had whispered. Still his eyes did not come to meet Elrond's.

"Sorry? Sorry will not repair the damage you have caused this fragile heart and I am not 
speaking about Arwen. You know of whom I speak. He was almost lost in shadow and 
would have been if I had not revealed to him that he was indeed still loved. This Frodo 
Baggins has a beautiful and tender soul unlike any I have seen. How could you play with 
his heart so thoughtlessly?"

"I didn't!" Aragorn finally met his father's eyes. Seeing the anger within them, Aragorn 
looked down at his feet once more. "I don't know what is wrong with me. Gandalf asked 
me to keep an eye on Frodo, to look out for him and the moment I saw him.…These 
feelings just came from nowhere. Feelings I still have. I realize that I made a mistake...."

"A mistake? A mistake? You call it a mistake? You know very well that the Hobbit’s 
heart belonged to another, that you yourself belonged to another and yet still you...laid 
with him. That is not a mistake, that is abominable. He is inexperienced and innocent in 
the ways of love. He is still in the process of trying to find his way in this world and you 
came along and smashed him against the rocks and left him where he fell. Can you not 
imagine the suffering he has endured with your...false promises of love and then your 
rejection?"

"I know, I just...I can fix this...I….”

"No, No you cannot fix this, Aragorn, nor can it be undone. During Frodo's stay here in 
Rivendell, I have no choice but to prevent you from seeing him."

Aragorn’s eyes shot up in alarm.

"I need you to be at the council. It will take place within the week but in that time, I 
want you to go with Elrohir and Elladan and leave Rivendell."

"You forbid me to see him?" the Ranger asked with a lump in his throat.

"Yes, I forbid it. He needs time to heal. Before you leave, however, you will speak to 
Arwen and tell her of your...infidelity."

"Ada?" Aragorn called out sadly.
 
Elrond turned to his foster son and shook his head at him. "There is much I could forgive 
you for, even stealing my daughter from me -- as much as it grieves me, her love for you 
is apparent and I have to let what must be come to pass, but this...I am gravely 
disappointed in you, Aragorn."

Without looking back, Elrond turned and walked away. 
 
***  

Aragorn was steeling himself to find Arwen when a tall, angry, grey robed man stepped 
out into the garden and marched his way towards him. For the first time in his life, 
Aragorn wondered if being the heir to Isildur would be enough to stop an enraged 
wizard from killing him. 

****  

Frodo sat quietly in bed, bored beyond belief. He had tried reading the books that Lord 
Elrond had sent him but he just couldn't get bring himself to concentrate. 

Lord Elrond? Frodo was still quite awed in the ancient elf's presence.

Feeling a bit insignificant, Frodo had thought Elrond an overwhelming sight to behold. 
The Lord of Rivendell wasn't a strikingly handsome elf but he certainly had charisma and 
something else...a distinguished magnificence about him. Frodo remembered that face in 
his dreams. It had been so caring and kind, begging him to return to the light. Offering 
him love.  Meeting that face in reality had been a different experience all together.

He had stood so proudly over him welcoming him to Rivendell and Frodo felt himself 
turn into mush. Those piercing eyes stared down at him, a genuine smile on the elf's lips. 
Frodo felt himself blush in spite of himself.

All the while, Frodo felt Sam's warm hand in his own. Whatever anger Sam had had felt 
towards Frodo had vanished. He had even been surprised to see his gardener’s eyes stare 
at him with clear love radiating from them. Of course that had been hours ago and now 
Frodo was alone again, in bed. He was bored, bored...BORED!

Sitting up, Frodo had hoped that among his many visitors, one in particular would show 
up. He wanted so much to figure out why the sudden change of heart. But after a few 
inquiries, Frodo discovered that Aragorn was nowhere to be found. Just as well. Frodo 
had finally realized why Aragorn had acted the way he did after that...night. Why Strider 
had been so repulsed by him. 

Frodo had never really been with someone. At least not with someone he had gone 
further with than a bit of kissing and cuddling. That had to be it. Frodo's inexperience 
had upset the Ranger. Making love to him must have felt like making love to a duck.

Then there was Sam. Somehow Sam must have woken that night and had seen him with 
Aragorn. That explained his anger the following day. But why? Sam had Rosie waiting 
for him back in the Shire. Why would he care if he openly sought out Aragorn?  

Confused and feeling more lost, Frodo tried to think of other things. Instead all he could 
think about was just how pathetic he really was.

The door opened suddenly and Frodo looked up to see a small figure edge its way 
towards him.

"Mr. Frodo! How are you feeling this morning? I spoke to Gandalf and to Lord Elrond 
and they said that you could take a little walk in the garden if you felt up to it."

Frodo smiled gently at his friend, and then patted the bed. "Sam...come sit with me for a 
minute. I think we need to talk."

Sam smiled softly and nodded, making his way towards the bed. "Yeah, I think we are 
overdue for one. As my Gaffer would say...nothing like a little bit of talking to clear up 
some misunderstandings, and I think we got a lot of those, sir."

Joining Frodo on the bed, Sam reached out his hand. Frodo smiled softly and took it.  
****  

"I was not kissing her. She was kissing me, and if you had stuck around long enough, 
you would have seen me telling her that I was spoken for."

Frodo blushed at Sam's words and lowered his eyes. "Oh Sam, I’m sorry. I am an idiot."

"No you are not. You weren't thinking properly and maybe you should have spoken 
about it sooner but...you, my dear, are not an idiot. I knew something was wrong and I 
knew I should have gone in that room and talked to you but no, I am just as much to 
blame. I love you, Mr. Frodo. Don't you doubt about that. I love you."

"I don't know what came over me, Sam. Especially with Strider. I am attracted to him, I 
can't help it and I don't even know why."

"I do. He is mysterious and scruffy and very fascinating. He's also a pretty good fighter. 
You should have seen how he dealt with those black riders!"

Frodo smiled at Sam who returned the smile.

"And before you go thinking again, I was not upset just because you were with him...I 
was upset and I don't know why either, except that I was...well...left out."

Frodo looked at him in awe and surprise, and Sam, seeing that look, started to blush all 
over again. "Crazy the things we have gotten ourselves into, Mr. Frodo. From now 
on...we talk. Yes?"

"Deal," replied Frodo, who then shook his head at his gardener. "But don't worry -- 
whatever was between Aragorn and I is well, over, I think."

"Ah now, don't be so sure about such things. When you get your strength back...we’ll go 
see that Strider and have ourselves a little talk."

Laughing, Frodo reached for Sam and before his Gardener knew what was happening, he 
got a deep kiss from his beloved. A smile came to Sam's face and it remained there for a 
long time.  
***
A little while later, Frodo rose from his bed and holding tightly onto Sam's hand, he 
began his first walk around Rivendell. As they walked together in the various gardens, 
giving each other loving glances, they were unaware of two eyes that peered down at 
them from an open window.

"His strength returns."

"That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it with him for the rest of his life."

"And yet, to have come this far still bearing the Ring, the Hobbit has shown 
extraordinary resilience to it's evil."

"We can ask no more of Frodo..."  

Elrond wished he could agree with Gandalf, but something inside told him that Frodo 
Baggins’ tale was not going to end here. That Frodo's fate had already been set and there 
was nothing anyone could do to stop it. 

Glancing once more out the window, he was glad that Frodo had someone who would 
watch over him. That pudgy blond Hobbit also gave him the impression that he had a 
role to fullfill as well, and it was by his Master's side.

Sadly, Elrond wished he could be a part of that protection. Even in such a short period of 
time, he had grown fond of this particular little Hobbit. He could now understand 
Aragorn's obsession. Frodo Baggins was one out of a billion. A jewel worthy of being 
well kept. Frodo was a treasure that cried out for love.

It was only early this morning that Elrond recognized Frodo's aura and his blood 
heritage. He consulted a few of his books and a brief discussion with Master Bilbo was 
all it took for Elrond to fit it all together. He wondered if he should share this knowledge 
with Gandalf but seeing how protective the wizard was of the Hobbit, he decided not to. 

This was a discussion that could be dealt with at a later time. When danger of Sauron 
was not so dire.

Yes, if they could survive this coming War, he would most certainly wish to sit down and 
talk to Gandalf and have a long conversation with Frodo. Now however, it was time to 
discuss the fate of the One Ring.
  
****

Frodo felt happy and carefree once more. Sam was still in love with him and reuniting 
with his cousins and Bilbo made him feel as if he could fly. Rivendell was so beautiful 
and Frodo wasn't sure if he would ever tire of looking at its gardens or at the beautiful 
elves.

Wishing to find some quiet time to contemplate things, Frodo left Sam with his cousins 
and headed towards a nearby waterfall. He had seen it from his balcony and wanted very 
much to have a swim in its waters. His shoulder still felt a bit cold and achy but he just 
couldn't pass up a swim under a waterfall.

Reaching his destination, Frodo was once again overwhelmed by beauty. A clear crystal 
falls was before him, emptying into a small pond that continued its flow over rocks and 
disappearing down a stream. The grass was of the darkest green he had ever seen and the 
leaves were full of colors. The air smelled like lilacs and roses and all of it seemed like a 
dream.

Excited and unable to wait, Frodo undressed and slipped one of his feet into the cool 
water. It was wonderful! Frodo was thrilled and put in his other leg. He sat there for a 
time, listening to the various sounds of nature around him and breathing in the fresh air. 
He felt at peace. He wondered if Elrond would mind him staying here for a while -- after 
the Council meeting and the Ring was dealt with, of course. 

He still had a lot of things to sort out. One of those things was Aragorn. Frodo still felt a 
deep sense of love for the Ranger and Frodo wanted so desperately to find out what he 
had done to make the human turn from him.  

Closing his eyes, Frodo was just about to drift off into a lovely dream when soft voices 
pulled him back to the present. Looking up, Frodo tried to locate the sounds and finally 
saw two figures standing on a bridge just above him. They had not seen him and were 
oblivious to his whereabouts. Frodo grinned when he recognized the figures.

One was of the Elf woman he had seen when he was ill. He had learned from Elrond that 
his daughter, Arwen, had found him and brought him to Rivendell. She was lovely -- 
even more so then when he first saw her. 

The other – well, it took Frodo a moment to realize that the second figure was Strider. 
He was all cleaned up and dressed like an elf.

He looked absolutely gorgeous. Frodo choked, realizing he had forgotten to breathe 
again. Getting to his feet, Frodo was just about to call to them when he saw the two 
embrace and kiss.

He suddenly felt cold, and gathering his clothes, Frodo turned from the sight and hurried 
back to the Last Homely House as fast as his feet would carry him. Frodo didn't even 
bother to say hello or bow to Elrond as he by passed him in the courtyard.
 
****  

The Elf watched the young one's departure with concerned eyes.  

5/10  

Two days had passed and Frodo had sunk into a deeper depression then ever before. 
Elrond and Gandalf could only watch as Frodo’s aura seemed to be slipping away from 
them.  

The Hobbit sought solitude and escape from his fellow kin. Even his beloved Bilbo could 
not disperse the sadness that seemed to be taking hold over Frodo Baggins.  

Sam tried everything, even a failed attempt at love making. But Frodo would only roll 
away pretending that he was too tired or that his wound was bothering him. Baffled, all 
those that loved him watched helplessly as he succumbed to this melancholy.  

It was days later, during one star-filled night, that Frodo awoke to find his beloved 
Samwise sound asleep next to him. Getting up, and without finding something warm to 
dress in, Frodo left his room in all but his night shirt and began to wander the great halls 
of Elrond’s home.  

He didn’t have a destination. All Frodo knew was that he had to take a walk. Escape. To 
go somewhere. Just as he was turning a corner, a tall shadow walked passed him. 
Surprised, Frodo hesitated when he recognized the form of Arwen Evenstar. She was 
dressed all in white and seemed to be deep in her own thoughts. She never looked so 
lovely.  

She paused for a moment and turned to stare at the Hobbit. She smiled at him and then 
continued to make her way out into the garden.  

Frodo felt compelled to follow her.  

****  

He found her sitting under a large, evergreen tree. She was gazing up at the stars and 
seemed to be content in her little world.  

Swallowing down a lump in his throat, Frodo moved slowly towards her. Just as he 
reached her, he saw her eyes meet his, and she offered him a seat beside her.  

Frodo remained standing and lowering his eyes to the ground, he shook his head in 
sorrow.  

“I did not know he was betrothed to you, my Lady. I beg for your forgiveness.”  
 
The Lady did not speak. Instead, she waved once more to the ground for Frodo to sit. 
Frodo sadly obeyed, waiting for the angry words of betrayal to come from her lips. 
Instead, Frodo felt a gentle hand stroke his cheek. Shocked, he looked up and saw her 
staring at him, not in anger, but in sadness.  

“Tell me Master Frodo, do you love my Father’s garden?”  
 
Frodo glanced around him and nodded. “Yes, it is beautiful. If I lived here, I do not think 
I would ever tire of it.”  
 
“Do you love your Shire?”  
 
Frodo felt tears fill his eyes. “More than ever. I don’t think I ever appreciated it as I 
should have. I was too busy dreaming of other places. But yes, I love the Shire.”  

“Do you love your Uncle Bilbo?”  
 
“Of course,” replied Frodo. He looked back at her in confusion not understanding where 
this was all leading.  

“Do you love mushrooms?”  
 
“What Hobbit wouldn’t?”  
 
“Do you love Samwise? Your cousins? Do you still love your parents even though they 
have passed into another life?”  
 
“Why do you ask me these things? Yes, I love them! All of them!”  
 
“Then do you not think I love too. That I love my Father, that I love my brothers, and 
my home?”  
 
“I don’t understand.” Frodo felt completely miserable. He only knew that he liked the 
Lady Arwen and had never meant to cause so much pain...or her anger.  

“Frodo....” She reached out her hand and laid it gently on Frodo’s lap.  

Frodo stared at the beauty of Arwen Evenstar and sighed wretchedly. How could be 
possibly compete with her over Aragorn?  

“Love has no price nor is it bound to only one creature. Love is limitless. As one loves 
the trees and stars, can not they also love the moon and the earth?”  
 
Frodo still looked at her in confusion, wondering what she was getting at.  

She smiled and tried to simplify what she was saying. “Although there are different forms 
of love, they still own a part of your heart. Just because you love, say, your cousin 
Merry, does not mean that you do not have room to love your cousin Pippin?”  
 
“Yes....” It was then Frodo began to understand what the Lady was truly saying. “Oh.”  
 
Seeing the understanding on his face, Arwen smiled warmly at the Hobbit. “I love 
Aragorn, I have loved him for many long years, but I too have loved others. Just as he 
has. I do not wrong him for seeking warmth wherever he can find it. Love is so rare to 
find in these troubled times. Would you stop loving Samwise if Aragorn commanded you 
to give him up?”  
 
Frodo didn’t even hesitate. “No. I love Sam. I have always loved him.”  
 
“So you will not ask Aragorn to stop loving me?”  

Frodo shook his head. “I would not!” Frodo then added softly. “You are worthy of his 
love. I saw.” He swallowed and shrugged. “I saw, how he looked at you on the bridge. 
He truly loves you. I could see it in his eyes. You are so...so beautiful. How could 
anyone not fall in love with you?”  
 
Smiling, Arwen bowed her head at his kind words. “Thank you," she replied. “But 
Frodo, even now I see his heart has deepened. He loves me, as I love him, but he has 
also grown to love you as well and of your fellow travelers. I do not resent such a thing. 
Nor do I resent you. I believe love is like a tree. All its branches are as important as the 
other branches, each connected to one another. . . as one. I can see why his eyes linger 
upon you. You do not realize just how beautiful you are.”  
 
Frodo shook his head. “No, oh no, my Lady, I....”  
 
She gently touched his lips with the tip of her finger and nodded. “Yes, you are beautiful. 
As one loves the moon, one must also love the sun. Whatever lies ahead, know always 
that my heart hopes that you will find all that you seek. I wish you happiness, Frodo, and 
truly, with all my heart, I wish you love.”  

Rising to her feet, she bent down and gave Frodo a soft kiss on his forehead. She stood 
once more, and turning, she headed back into the house.  
 
Frodo remained where he was for a brief time, thinking over all that the lovely Princess 
had said to him. A slow smile came to his lips, and a weight faded into the darkness.  
****  

He watched from his window and had listened closely to the conversation between the 
Hobbit and his daughter. Sighing, Elrond gazed at the Hobbit and felt sadness overcome 
him. His daughter was still set in her path to give up her immortality, and once more, he 
saw that the future of Middle-Earth would soon lay upon the shoulders of Frodo 
Baggins, and there was nothing he or anyone could do to stop it.  

He could see great pain, sadness and death to come to many, and Lord Elrond wondered 
who would survive this war and who would not.  

The Lord of Rivendell looked away, and sitting down in one of his empty chairs, he 
allowed himself, for the first time in many long centuries, to grieve. 
 
****  

‘What have I done?!’  
 
Frodo ran into his room and swiftly closed the door behind him. Leaning against the 
door, Frodo covered his face with his hands, groaning half in fear and half in dread. Yes, 
that’s right, what did you say?  

‘...I will take the ring to Mordor....’  
 
You are an idiot, Frodo Baggins. Here you were almost out of this mess and could be 
half -way home right now and instead, you have volunteered on a suicide mission. A 
quest that will most likely get you killed. Why? Why did you do it?  

Inside a small voice seemed to echo back. ‘Because no one else can.’  
 
If no one else can carry the Ring, what makes me so sure I can?  

Frodo slid slowly to the ground, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. If he 
failed, all of Middle-Earth would wind up in the hands of Sauron.  
 
It had all seemed like the right thing to do at the time. He had been allowed to sit with 
Gandalf as the Council was summoned and the wisest people of Middle-Earth tried to 
decipher the fate of the One Ring. Aragorn had been present and he had done everything 
in his power to avoid looking at the human ranger. But as soon as it was revealed that 
Aragorn was the last surviving relation to Isildur and was, in fact, heir to the Kingdom of 
Gondor, Frodo hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the Ranger.  

Then things started to go down hill. Thanks to the human, Boromir, things escalated out 
of hand and soon the whole council was arguing amongst itself.  

Looking into the Ring, Frodo could hear the sinister laughter coming from it. It was 
delighted to be causing chaos and disruption to all around it.  
 
Unable to stop himself, Frodo had stood and shouted that he would be the one, that he 
would take the ring to Mordor and cast it back into Mt Doom where it had been forged.  

Easier said then done.  
 
Still, his gesture had stopped the arguing. Frodo did not miss the pride and sadness 
coming from Gandalf and from Elrond at his proclamation. He had a feeling this was 
something they dreaded all along would happen.  

Well, he couldn’t back out now, even if he wanted to. Before he could say anything 
more, Gandalf had promised to come with him. Followed by Aragorn, an elf prince from 
Mirkwood forest, Legolas, a grumpy dwarf, named Gimli, and Boromir who had started 
the arguing in the first place.  

But there were three Frodo had not wanted to accompany him. Sam, who had been 
listening in some nearby bushes, had rushed in, announcing to everyone that he was 
going with his Master, followed by his two cousins who had been hiding behind some 
white marble columns. Frodo had wanted to ask Elrond to forbid it; the last thing he 
wanted was to see the ones he loved most in this world wind up in more danger.  

Merry and Pippin had been through enough and should be sent home, back to the Shire. 
Instead, Elrond looked slightly amused and seemed to silently contemplate his cousins' 
proposal.  
 
Once the Council had convened Frodo had sought Elrond to plead with him to keep his 
cousins and Sam from going. Instead, Elrond had simply pointed to the skies and asked 
Frodo if he would command the sun never to rise again. Frodo understood exactly what 
the Lord of Rivendell was saying. No force or power would stop his kin from coming 
along. It was not something he wanted to hear. But then, when Frodo had seen Elrond 
depart, he had to face his Sam.  

Sam. His dearest Sam. Who vehemently refused to listen to reason. He would not be 
parted from his Master.  

“You need someone to look after you. Who's going to make sure you're eating right? 
Who's going to make sure you stay warm? Who's going to watch your back? Don't say 
anymore, Mr. Frodo. Your Sam is coming with you and that's that!”  

Frightened and not knowing what else to do, Frodo had run all the way back to his room 
and now, here he was sitting on the floor, feeling more helpless and alone then ever 
before.  

What was he to do?  
 
A soft knock on the door had Frodo become still as stone.  

The knock came again more urgently.  

“Frodo? Frodo are you all right? Can we come in?”  
 
Frodo recognized the voice of Aragorn, and for a moment, Frodo contemplated telling 
Aragorn to go jump off a cliff. He was still angry at the Ranger for informing him after 
the fact of his relationship with the Lady Arwen. If he had known about the betrothal, he 
would have told Aragorn to keep his hands off. Then, Frodo thought better of telling 
Aragorn to jump off a cliff. He might just do it.  
 
Getting to his feet, Frodo sighed heavily, and then opened the doors, wishing instead that 
he could lock them. Outside, looking quite concerned, was Aragorn and behind him was 
Sam, looking equally worried. Moving back to the bed, Frodo sat down and waited for 
what was to come.  

“Sam and I have been talking....”  
 
Frodo looked at Aragorn and Sam, puzzled by Aragorn’s words. He wasn’t sure he 
could deal with another rejection right now. Frodo glanced down his neck and felt a 
slight burning sensation where the One Ring nestled against his skin. Already he could 
feel it calling to him, offering him false promises. Closing his mind to the dark voice, he 
returned his attention to Aragorn, who was once again speaking to him.  

“First, I want to say, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, Frodo.”  
 
Frodo was about to deny the statement, but Aragorn continued.  

“I should have told you that I was betrothed to another. Please accept my apology.”  
 
Frodo looked at the floor and shrugged. “I forgive you.”  
 
It didn’t sound very convincing and Aragorn knew it. Bending to his knees, he took 
Frodo’s hands into his own and waited.  

A few moments passed before Frodo’s head came up and met his silver blue eyes.  

“I’m sorry,” he whispered in true penance.  

Frodo swallowed and nodded, not knowing what else to say.  

“I do not understand this attraction we have for one another. I do not even begin to try 
to reason with it. Please know that I am very fond of you. I care for you deeply.” 
Aragorn paused and faced Sam, who was looking at the two of them silently with an 
unreadable -expression. “Both of you. You have become very dear to me.”  
 
Sam firmly nodded his head. Aragorn turned back to face Frodo, who again swallowed, 
not knowing what to say to all this.  

“In time, I hope, I can make it up to you both for the pain I caused you. Will you give me 
another chance?”  
 
Frodo now turned his gaze to Sam, waiting for him to speak first.  

Sam smiled and nodded.  

Frodo, sighing in relief, met Aragorn’s eyes. “Yes. We will.” He made sure to make the 
WE stand out. It was important to Frodo not to exclude Sam. Never again would he 
knowingly cause Sam pain.  
 
Now feeling a weight off his own shoulders, Aragorn rose and joined Frodo sitting on 
the edge of the bed. Holding out his hand, Aragorn waited for Sam to join them. Once 
they were all sitting on the bed, they looked on at each other in silence.  

After what seemed like a long time, Aragorn spoke. “I will do everything in my power to 
protect you. Both of you. No matter what happens.”  
 
“We may not survive,” replied Frodo. “We may all die.”  
 
“Mr. Frodo!” Sam cried in horror. Already his master was ready to give up. That was so 
unlike him.  

Aragorn reached for Frodo, pulling him into his arms, and then reached and pulled Sam 
into the embrace as well. Sam blushed but did not fight the threesome hug. Instead, he 
enjoyed the feel of the warm heat coming from the bodies close against his own. He 
suddenly felt like he was up close to a nice cozy fire. Toasty warm.  

“We must have hope, for without it, all will be lost. Trust me, my little loves. We will 
overcome this evil. We will. Together.”  
 
Frodo looked up meeting Aragorn's and Sam’s eyes. He was still frightened, but he knew 
he would endure -- after all, he had his servant, a king, and a wizard at his beck and call. 
What more could a Hobbit ask for? Even as Frodo felt Aragorn’s lips upon his own, he 
couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough.  

Making sure Sam wasn’t left out, Aragorn pressed a soft kiss to the gardener’s lips. 
Sam’s eyes widened in delight, blushing and then smiling, and then he reached in and 
gave Frodo a kiss too.  

For a time, the three remained in each other’s embrace, holding and kissing and 
providing what comfort they could for the dark and long journey that stood before them. 
No one knew what the future would bring, but whatever it did, they would no longer sit 
idly by and allow all the what ifs to control their destiny.  
 
Tomorrow would come soon enough and right now they planned to enjoy the here and 
now with each other.
  
****  

“So you forgave him?”  
 
Elrond turned from his window and gazed at his daughter who stood proudly in the open 
doorway that lead into the garden. She was dressed all in white and gold. It seemed to 
Elrond that every day, her beauty seemed to grow.  

“There was nothing to forgive, Ada.”  
 
“You gladly accept taking second place in Aragorn’s heart?”  
 
“There is no second place, Ada. Those that he loves will always come first in his life. I 
am glad to know such a man that fears not love.”  
 
“I forbid this!”  
 
“And what exactly do you forbid? My loving Aragorn and he in return loving me, or that 
he loves Frodo and Frodo loves him?”  
 
“I will not argue with you. I will not lose you to this mortal!”  
 
“Is he not your son?” Arwen opened her arms to her father, her face soft and yet firm all 
at the same time. “Have you stopped loving him just because he dared to love me?”  
 
“I will always care deeply for Aragorn. He will always be a son to me. It is not a matter 
of love. He may love anyone he wishes -- all the elves in Middle-Earth, even this 
beautiful Hobbit. It is only you that I do not wish him to love. I shall soon be sailing into 
the West and I want you at my side. Is that so hard for you to understand? I love you, 
Arwen. You are my daughter. I cannot bare to lose you as I have already lost so many 
loved ones. My heart is burdened with grief, I tell you now, I cannot let you go. I-Will-
NOT.”  
 
Arwen sighed, and lowered her head as her eyes filled with tears. “I have made my 
choice.”  
 
“You will lose your immortality. You will fade, if you follow this path.” 

“It is not so much of a loss, Ada when one has love.”  
 
“Is there nothing I can say?”  
 
“No,” she replied sadly and slowly she turned and headed into the garden.  
 
Alone, Elrond remained standing by the window engulfed in his own pain.  

Was it then that a part of Elrond broke? Was it then that Elrond lost some of his own 
wisdom and sanity? Dark thoughts dwelled in his mind and Elrond made plans for 
retribution of his loss. ‘Ah, Elbereth if you allow this to come to pass, if Aragorn takes 
my daughter, then in the end, I swear I will take something that he so dearly loves. Eye 
for an eye. One, small Hobbit. It will not equal the taking of my daughter, but it will be 
enough. Frodo Baggins will be mine.’  
 
Clenching his teeth, Elrond turned from the window and headed for his study. He had 
plans to make, many plans. 

Part 6/10 

Lothlorien 

Frodo left Sam sleeping under the tree for the second time tonight. The first time, he had 
gone to see the Lady Galadriel and to look into the mirror where he had seen all hope 
lost and no future for Middle-Earth should he fail in his quest. 

The loss of Gandalf still haunted him. Frodo sighed and realized that it would haunt him 
for the rest of his life. He had chosen the path through Moria and it had led to Gandalf’s 
doom. Frodo would never see his wizard again. 

Gandalf had meant so much to him. He had been a missing parent in his life, almost like a 
grandfather, and Frodo could not remember a time he did not look up to the grey robed 
Istari who seemed to be able to solve any problem and had always every solution. With 
him, Frodo had no fear. He was safe, so long as the Wizard was at his side. 

Frodo could still remember how he would be the boldest of the Hobbit children and 
climb on Gandalf’s lap. No one had ever dared such a thing, but he dared. The wizard 
would eye him with suspicion, but Frodo would only smile and curl his fingers through 
the tangled beard, all in the hopes of tugging a smile from the old man. The smile always 
came. 

Now, he would never see that smile again. Never hear that booming laughter or hear 
lovely stories of Elves and men. Nor would he ever be safe again. It was gone now, 
fading into the darkness, just like the rest of him. 

Frodo arrived at his destination and looking about and seeing that the Lady had gone, he 
gazed once more into the mirror. He had to know, he had to try to see the future. He had 
only seen the Shire in flames and his people enslaved before the Eye had appeared and 
tormented him with death and destruction. Frodo had to try it once more. He had to 
know what was in his own future. 

The Ring was taking him. He could feel it now and its power was weighing heavily on 
his mind and soul. He felt as if someone was stabbing him in the chest, and just as he was 
about to catch his breath, the stab of pain would hit him all over again. 

He was losing himself and Frodo could feel it. Day by day, bit by bit. The fire was all-
consuming and Frodo needed to believe that there would be a tomorrow. 

So once more he dared to look deep into the dark waters -- and then he waited. The 
images came, slowly at first, almost like a curtain being drawn aside and Frodo felt his 
heart torn in two. 

He could see Aragorn, laughing and holding a small human child in his arms. He was 
older, with silver entwined in his dark brown hair and beard. Beside him stood the Lady 
Arwen, beautiful and proud. A true Queen of the people of men. She never looked more 
beautiful. 

But Frodo did not see himself there. 

Sam appeared and he was surrounded by children, and sitting beside him, smiling and 
mending what looked to be a shirt, was Rosie. Thirteen children. Frodo counted each 
and every one of them. They were all beautiful and a treasure to the happy couple. They 
looked very much in love. Happy, whole, complete. Alive. 

But Frodo did not see himself there. 

So, it was true. He would perish. There was no hope. The world will go on, but he 
would not. His legacy would die. Tomorrow would come but he would not be there. 
Tears filled Frodo’s eyes, and he turned from the mirror and walked quietly out into the 
forest, disappearing into the darkness of night. No hope. 

*** 

Frodo sat quietly by the brook. He had found it only by chance. Morning had come to 
Lothlorien but the trees granted little sunlight in its vast forest. Only small specks of 
sunlight managed to get through to reveal that tomorrow had indeed come. 

Frodo had wandered deep into the woods and finally, after a time, he came to a babbling 
brook that seemed to go on for miles. Beside a large rock stood two tall trees that were 
entwined with each other. They almost looked like lovers, forever embracing. 

Sitting down on the boulder, Frodo stared deep into the water and tried to find some 
acceptance and peace about what was to come. He knew he could not turn back. Too 
many lives hung in the balance. The Shire would fall as he had foreseen and not just his 
fellow Hobbits would perish. Humans, Dwarves, Elves. There was no one that could 
stop Sauron. He was far too powerful and if he got his Ring, the ending of the world 
would come. 

Endings, so many endings and so tragically unhappy. Is it selfish, he wondered, to want 
to live? Was it so selfish for him, one little Hobbit, to seek love for himself? 

Ever since they had left Rivendell, Frodo had felt the coming of doom. Aragorn of 
course had held true to his promise, watching over him and the others with a hawk-like 
eye. Frodo had never felt so protected and yet, even on those cold nights with Sam 
snuggled close to him on one side and Aragorn nestled on the other, Frodo could still 
feel the cold around him. These were dark times, but surely there was a time of happiness 
somewhere in his past? 

Yes, Bilbo in the kitchen baking bread and singing a dwarf song. Sam, working in the 
garden and muttering about planting lilacs in the spring, not knowing that evil was 
creeping in around the next corner. He and his cousins playing in the Brandywine river. 
Stealing apples from Farmer Hillypilly, and climbing the highest of trees so he could try 
to see what lay beyond the valley of the Shire. Those were indeed moments of happiness. 

He had, in his youth, dreamed of what lay beyond. Wanting to see what the world was all 
about. 

Frodo remembered a time when he was found in that tree by Gandalf. He was coming to 
visit Bilbo on one of his short visits. Frodo had laughed, when he saw the concern in the 
wizard’s eyes at seeing how high Frodo was in the branches. He had begged Frodo to 
come down. But Frodo wouldn’t. Not until the wizard promised to tell him about the 
outside world. 

“Tell me about the elves, tell me about the humans? Do they sing like we do? Do they 
dance? Do they talk like us hobbits? Where do they live? Do they eat six meals a day? 
Are they kind? Do they play games like us? Would they play with me….Would they like 
me?”

*Would they like me?* 

Now Frodo wished he had never ventured outside the Shire. He wished he had never met 
Aragorn. He wished he had never allowed himself to hope for love. He wished. . .he had 
never been born. 

“Frodo?” 

Frodo turned then and stared up in surprise to see Aragorn. He stood over him, looking 
concerned and worried. He also appeared out of breath, as if he had been running. 

“Are you all right? I have been searching for you all morning. The others were worried 
when you did not return. Sam was worried.” 

Frodo swallowed and suddenly felt remorse for causing so much fear. “I’m sorry, I 
guess, I lost all track of time.” 

Sighing, Aragorn sat down beside the Hobbit and looked at the brook. “I can see why. 
This is a lovely spot. Full of wonderful memories. This is where I first saw Arwen.” 

Frodo winced and closed his eyes. “Oh,” 

He had hoped this was a spot no one had ever been. A place that he could call his own. 
No such luck. Frodo saw the images once more. Arwen and Aragorn, Sam and Rosie. 
Together. Frodo did not feel angry at the images or bitter over them. He just wished to 
know where he fit in that puzzle. Where did he belong? Or did he belong at all? 

Tears filled Frodo’s eyes once more, and he dared not look at Aragorn. 

“What did the Lady Galadriel show you, Frodo?” 

Frodo took a breath before answering. “The Shire was in flames. The Fellowship 
Broken. The Eye.” 

He reached out and tried to touch Frodo’s shoulder and Frodo flinched from it. “What 
else happened?” 

“I offered the Lady the Ring.” 

“And?” 

“She refused it. I shall have to carry it.” 

“I’m sorry, Frodo.” 

He reached once more for the Hobbit, But Frodo pulled away as the tears fell from his 
eyes. “I made a promise. I will not let Gandalf down. I will take the Ring to Mordor.” 

He would not allow Gandalf’s death to be in vain. And then, I shall die. Frodo knew that 
the end was near and that he would savor what time he had left. Here and now. Frodo 
got slowly to his feet and began to unbutton his shirt. Aragorn watched in surprise as 
Frodo soon stood naked before him. 

“Aragorn, make love to me. Now.” 

Frodo looked deep into his eyes and added softly, “Please.” 

Time seemed to stop, and the sounds of a babbling brook was the only noise in the 
forest. They laid down under the trees and Aragorn removed all his clothing. He took the 
Hobbit into his arms, cradling him gently against his chest. 

But Frodo did not want to be cradled or comforted. His time was drawing to an end and 
he needed, wanted more to hold to his breast and keep him warm in the darkest of 
places.

Frodo grasped Aragorn’s cheek and pulled his lips down crushingly onto his own. He 
opened his mouth and allowed the seeking tongue in to stake a claim of what was already 
so freely given. 

Frodo could feel Aragorn’s arousal against his knee and in return, Frodo pushed his own 
arousal against the human’s skin. Gasping in surprise, Aragorn folded his arms around 
Frodo, touching his skin and sliding his hands down slowly over the Hobbit’s shoulders 
and chest. The human’s mouth kissed and nuzzled Frodo’s collarbone and nipped at his 
chest. 

Frodo delighted in the touch, feeling his body respond and tingle at the sensations. 
Crying out eagerly, Frodo forgot about the darkness but the burning against his chest 
remained as the One Ring stayed in place as if defiant of this union and symbolizing all 
that stood in the way of Frodo’s happiness and future. 

Frodo allowed his hands to roam freely over the large back and buttocks of the human’s 
limber form. He was beautiful. Frodo did not deny that. The human reeked of masculine 
scent and it was like a perfume that had become like an addiction. Frodo needed more, 
even more then these loving touches. 

Frodo pulled away, gazing lustily at Aragorn, and the Ranger, who would one day be 
King, lost himself in the Hobbits’ blue eyes. 

Turning on to his stomach, Frodo pulled Aragorn’s arms around him and bracing himself, 
he pushed back with determination against the hard member. Aragorn stopped and tried 
to hold Frodo away from him. He finally realized that Frodo desired more then just 
kissing and touching and he wasn’t altogether sure that Frodo was ready for this. 

He tried to speak, but Frodo only turned his head and stared into his eyes and whispered, 
“Please!” 

Even in his own need, Aragorn was no fool, and knew that if he did what Frodo wanted, 
he would tear the Hobbit to pieces. He needed something to keep that from happening. 
Smiling, Aragorn released the Hobbit, and moved back to his clothing. 

Frodo lay where he was, breathing hard as if he had been running, as he had away from 
Moria, away from the Orcs, away from Gandalf’s death. The darkness returned and 
Frodo could see only death before him. Before Frodo could reach for Aragorn, the 
Ranger returned holding something in his hands. He pulled Frodo once more into his 
arms, all the while, using his free hand to slicken his member. 

“Frodo, we must be careful. I know this is your first time,” Aragorn said while nuzzling 
the pointed ear. “This is a special lubricant that I use sometimes for….” 

He paused unable to make another coherent sound. He burned now, and his desires was 
slowly corrupting his thoughts. He pushed Frodo back onto the ground and Frodo went 
happily, turning once more onto his stomach. He felt something cold and slick against his 
opening, and Frodo felt a gentle probing. Frodo shook his head, feeling some of his own 
erection fade, but not the need. 

The first finger caused him to murmur unintelligently. The second finger caused Frodo to 
whimper, the third….Frodo cried out achingly for completion. 

“Easy Frodo, easy, slowly,” Aragorn pleaded, but he had already removed his fingers.

Bending Frodo onto his knees, he placed the tip of his member against the puckered 
entrance. The sphincter did not move and Frodo felt pain as the opening refused to allow 
Aragorn passage. Frodo would not be thwarted, though -- he had to have this. No matter 
the pain. 

Before Aragorn could stop him, the Hobbit thrust back and the member slid slowly into 
the tight, virginal hole. Aragorn and Frodo both cried out. The pain for Frodo was 
horrible, he felt for sure he would be torn in two and yet that did not deter him. Gritting 
his teeth, Frodo swore that if this was all he would have, then he would have it. At least 
this part of Aragorn he could call his own. This moment was his, and he would treasure 
it all the way into the fires of Doom. 

Aragorn tried not to move. He did not wish to cause Frodo any pain and wanted to allow 
time for the smaller body to adapt to this invasion, but the Hobbit was not having any of 
that. Frodo was already squirming and trying to thrust back and forth. Lost, completely 
lost, Aragorn wrapped his arms around Frodo and thrust in return. 

The darkness was gone, the pain was gone and Frodo felt himself floating higher and 
higher. He could see himself on an eagle’s wings, the air brushing his hair back, the sun 
upon his face and the world at his feet. There was no Ring, no Sauron, no evil that could 
touch him. He was free. 

Frodo cried out as he came, gasping for air. Aragorn thrust three more times before he 
joined Frodo in the skies. He felt the shock waves all the way through his toes, his whole 
body tingling and he fell heavily against Frodo, completely spent. They lay that way for a 
long time, long after the sun had risen high in the sky.
 
***

“Frodo, there is blood.” 

Aragorn had tried to cuddle the Hobbit in his arms, but Frodo had left him to clean 
himself in the brook. In the process, Aragorn saw the streaks of blood on Frodo’s legs. 
Frodo felt achy and the pain returned. But it was a happy pain, it would be something he 
could hold onto when the darkness returned. 

He shrugged. “I am fine. I shall wash and then dress and we can return to the others.”

Frodo did just that. He lay in the stream for several minutes allowing the cold water to 
erase the sweat, blood and semen. All but the memories. Aragorn also joined Frodo in 
the water, but they did not touch. 

Minutes later, they were dressing and the silence seemed to hang between them. As 
Frodo turned to leave, Aragorn reached out for him. Frodo allowed the embrace, and the 
soft kiss the Ranger pressed against his lips. 

“I am sorry, I meant for the first time. . .to be slower.” 

“Don’t be,” was all that Frodo said. 

For the first time, Frodo smiled at him. Aragorn felt confused but relieved to see that 
smile. “I needed this, Aragorn. Trust me.” 

Frodo then turned away and re-entered the forest. Aragorn finished putting on his belt 
and followed.
 
*** 

When they returned, Frodo saw that the entire Fellowship was indeed in an uproar. Sam 
was the most upset, but Frodo quieted him with a kiss to his cheek. Sam was about to 
speak further when he noticed Aragorn close behind Frodo. 

Frowning, Sam did not fail to notice the slight limp Frodo had or the careful way he sat 
down near their bedding. When the others had gone and Sam had Frodo alone, he turned 
to his master questioningly. 

“Are you all right, Mr. Frodo?” 

Frodo only smiled and stroked Sam’s golden curls. 

“Sam.” 

“Yes, Mr. Frodo.” 

“Do you remember Bilbo’s birthday party?” 

“Yes.” 

“Do you remember the music, and the dancing.” 

“Yes.” 

“How you danced with Rosie?” 

Sam blushed and shook his head. “I seemed to recall I wanted another ale and you 
pushed me into her arms.” 

Frodo smiled and nodded. “I was happy then. Like now.” 

Yes, for that was all Frodo had now, moments, sands of time. Soon they would be gone 
too. Soon. 

Understanding, Sam pulled Frodo gently into his arms. 

“We’ll make it back to the Shire. We will. Before you know it, you’ll be at your desk and 
writing in your ledgers, and I’ll be in the garden planting next years seedlings. All will be 
like it was. You’ll see.” 

Frodo looked away and felt the tears come to his eyes as the memories assaulted him. 
No, Sam, Frodo wanted to say. No, nothing will ever be the same. The future was 
coming and with it, darkness. You can never go back. 

“Frodo?” 

Frodo nodded and smiled at his Sam. “What ever happens Sam. . .I wish you love.”

Confused and frightened, Sam watched as Frodo slowly laid down and burying himself in 
the pillows, he closed his eyes and dreamed. Frodo pretended that as Aragorn and Arwen 
and Sam and Rosie had each other, somewhere in that circle, he was there too. That he 
was not alone and that he had someone to watch over him. 

*** 

Amon Hen 

Frodo knew this moment would come. But not so soon. It was bitter, and it was painful. 
His heart was breaking. Cannot anyone hear it shattering? 

Aragorn knelt before him. His eyes were filled with pain. 

“I swore to protect you.” 

Aragorn now realized Frodo meant to go the rest of the journey alone. Boromir was to 
blame for this and Aragorn swore he would deal with him personally. But Frodo only 
looked deep into his eyes without answering. 

“I would have gone with you, into the very fires of Mordor.” 

Frodo nodded slowly. 

“I know. Look after the others, especially Sam. He will not understand.” 

“I love you, Frodo.” 

Frodo swallowed the lump that came to his throat. The end was near. All was fading, all 
was going dark. Frodo had so much he wanted to say. So many things. 

*I saw your future Aragorn and I was not there. I saw Sam’s and I was not there either. 
Love had never been meant for me. I was meant to walk alone. Don’t you see? I am a 
shadow now. Cold and dark. There is no light. No hope. But I wish you love, and I wish 
you happiness. I wish. . .I wish.* 

Frodo did not speak, nor did he weep. He could not. Not in front of the Ranger. If he 
did, Aragorn would not leave him. He would stay at the Hobbit’s side, forsaking 
everyone and his own future. But Frodo knew the King of Gondor had another path to 
take and it was not at one little needy Hobbit’s side. 

“I will no longer be able carry you, my little one. But let my love carry you and when it is 
over. . . come back to me.” He then amended, “To me and Sam.” 

Frodo smiled and put on a brave face and allowed Aragorn one last kiss. This time, 
Frodo closed his eyes, savoring the flavor and taste that was Aragorn. He had come to 
know the taste of pine cones and fresh green grass and the sounds of the wind upon 
those lips. This would be enough. It would carry him through, even at the end of all 
things. Even in death. *** 

“Run, Run!” Aragorn cried as he drew his sword and met the enemy coming up the hill. 
He never got the chance to say goodbye. 

Frodo turned and ran and he never looked back. 

*** 

He stood upon the riverbank and allowed the last of his tears to flow. They would be the 
last he would shed. He was letting it go now, letting them go. Gandalf, Bilbo, Merry, 
Pippin, Legolas, Gimli, 

One by one, Frodo let them fade from his memory. Aragorn, and then finally Sam. His 
dear Sam. He wished him happiness. 

Please Elbereth, Frodo begged. Let the mirror be right. Sam will survive this war. He 
will live and marry and have babies. He will have a long life of happiness and peace. 
Without him. 

Closing his eyes, Frodo resolved his fate and placing the burning Ring into his pocket, he 
made for the boats. 

*** 

“I am going to Mordor alone!” 

“Of course you are, and I am going with you!” 

Frodo felt his heart constrict as Sam made his way into the fast moving river. 
“No Sam, you can’t swim!” 

Frodo actually felt time stop as he watched Sam slip into the water, lost from his view, 
and into death.
 
*** 

His hand reached and pulled and soon together they sat staring at each other in the boat. 
Sam was crying, he was crying. 

*No Sam! No, you must live. You have to live.* 

He wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all and yet, somewhere inside, a part of 
Frodo longed to bridge the gap that was between them. To tell Sam how happy he was 
there with him, here at the end of all things. 

“I made a promise, Mr. Frodo. A promise. Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee, and I 
don’t mean to. I don’t mean to.” Sam paused and shook his head. “I love you.” 

Frodo lost his nerve and took Sam tenderly into his arms, holding him as if he were his 
lifeline and perhaps, he was. Sam was all he had left. There was no hope, Frodo had none 
to hold onto. But Sam did have hope, his Sam, and Frodo would hold tight to his 
gardener and perhaps it will be enough. He will live on through Sam’s hope. 

*** 

Frodo did not look back, he didn’t have to, he knew Sam was following. So the 
Ringbearer began the long walk, a walk that would lead him to Mordor and to his most 
certain future, Death. 

7/10  
 
He sat down heavily by the tree, gasping for breath. Worried, the blond hobbit paused in 
his step and turned to look at his master.  
 
“Mr. Frodo? Are you all right?”  
 
“Yes, Sam. I just need to rest a moment.”  
 
Joining his master, Samwise Gamgee pulled out his water bottle, and offered Frodo a 
drink. Frodo didn’t hesitate; giving Sam a smile, he took a long gulp. Then, handing it 
back to his old friend, he stared deeply into the gentle gardener’s face. Samwise took a 
long drink as well and after putting it back, he suddenly felt the scrutiny.  

Once again they were all alone. It reminded Sam of the day he had chased after his 
master and spotted him at the waterfalls. Before making his presence known, Sam had 
taken a few long glances at Frodo’s naked and wet body in the pond. It had completely 
aroused Sam just to stare at that lithe and golden tanned form. Frodo had nothing to be 
ashamed of -- every inch of him was beautiful. Of course, as a young child, Sam had 
fallen for Frodo immediately. How could he not, with those big eyes that were as blue as 
robin's eggs.  

Sam still remembered that day he met Frodo in the garden. Frodo had been reading a 
book and Sam had followed his gaffer, pretending, to be interested in planting next 
year’s roses for Master Bilbo. Sam already knew all about the roses but he needed an 
excuse to get a peek at Bilbo’s heir.  

Sam had stood quietly at the gate staring fondly at the figure that looked just like an elf 
out of a story book, one that Bilbo had been reading him a few weeks before. It was 
about an Elf prince who had gone to a far away place and had fallen in love with a lovely 
princess. But the Princess’s father, the King, did not want the match and so he placed a 
powerful spell on the Elf, putting him in a deep sleep. A sleep that he didn’t awaken from 
for many years. When he finally awoke, the King had long since died and the Princess 
had wed another and had had many children. The Prince had become so broken hearted 
that he fell back into a deep sleep. Sam too had been heart broken, so much so that at 
first, he didn’t want Bilbo to continue the story. But Bilbo promised a happy ending. He 
said that the Prince slept again for a long time and then one day, he woke up and found 
himself being watched by a lovely woman who was even more beautiful than his first 
love. His heart had rejoiced at the blessings of Elbereth and the Prince swept the 
beautiful girl into his arms and took her back to his kingdom and wed her. They had 
many children and lived happily ever after.  

The moral of the story Sam couldn’t possibly have guessed, so Bilbo told him: “True 
love can happen more then once in a lifetime. Never give up on love for it has no time 
limit and no boundaries.”  
 
Staring at Frodo at the fence, Sam had just about come to his senses when the young 
gentlehobbit had looked up from his book and caught the spy at the gate. Smiling, he had 
waved to him. Instead of returning the wave, Sam had turned and run home as fast as he 
could. He had to tell his mama that he had found the one he wanted to marry when he 
got older. And that he was an elf.  

At the time, his mama had been sick and just simply laughed. Later, just before she finally 
fell into a sleep from which she never awoke, she had pulled Sam to her bedside. Her last 
words to him were to follow his heart, no matter what anyone tells him in this life, no 
matter how many people say it's wrong. Sam did.  

He had loved Frodo then, and in all these years, his love had only grown stronger. He 
would do anything for Frodo. Anything. He just wished he knew what he could do here 
and now to make Frodo’s burden lighter.  

“Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo turned away -- it was his turn to blush -- and he shrugged. “I’m ready, Sam.”  
 
Getting to his feet, Frodo began to walk once more, and Sam joined him, following right 
behind. 
 
***  

Night had fallen, and Frodo watched as Sam finished putting out the fire and then 
snuggled into the blankets beside his Master. After a long moment of silence, Frodo 
whispered softly in the dark, "Sam?"  

“Yes, Mr. Frodo.”  
 
“I’m cold.”  
 
“. . .Would you like my blanket?”  
 
“No, that would leave *you* cold. . .how about if we. . .snuggle?”  
 
Without another word, Frodo felt a large weight slide up against him. Warmth started to 
fill him from his toes to his neck. Moments later, they fell into a deep sleep.  

When morning came, Frodo awoke to find that Sam was still sound asleep burrowed