Title: Voices
Author: Landel
Pairing: Frodo/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or settings and willingly wrote 
this for fun. I did not do it for money.
Summary: Fifty years after destroying the Ring and returning to the Shire, 
Frodo is hearing some new voices in his head.
Author’s note: Inspired by reading “The Real Hero”, by Eykar. I 
wondered what Tolkien’s characters would make of all our slash-meddling 
in their lives.
The plot-bunny that prompts Frodo to talk to Gandalf was taken from 
“Wines, Vines and Veils”, by Fennelseed.
The various quotes of slash that Frodo experiences are taken from 
“Three”, by Daisy Thistletop (wyvernwell@yahoo.com). I asked 
permission, and both writers understand and agree with what I was trying 
to do.	; P

____ = story voice	*------* = thoughts	<------> = accentuated speech

Frodo woke with a start, his eyes snapping open. At first, he wasn’t sure 
what had woken him. Lying in his soft warm bed he listened for any sound 
that could have roused him, then scanned his moonlit room for any lights 
through the window.
Nothing.
All was calm and still on The Blessed Isle as it should be.
Judging by the shaft of moonlight beaming through the window it was 
very late, well past midnight and into the small hours. Then Frodo found 
thoughts coming into his head out of nowhere. Not thoughts, more like 
voices.... saying things about Sam and Rosie.

“Oh, not again!” Frodo said out loud to the night. “I’m getting sick of 
this!”

____
.... She blushed and
held the roses close to her body to hide her somewhat bared cleavage.  
"But,
well, I just want you both to know," she stated boldly, "That everything's 
okay,
I mean....it's not as if I didn't expect this."

Frodo and Sam both blinked hard and remained silent.

"Um, it's true, I knew about you two, I have known for quite some time." 
Rosie's voice had calmed again and she stood up a little straighter.  "And 
you
thought I didn't?  We've been friends ever since we were children, my 
Sam, dear
Sam..."....
____

*******************************

It had started when he came of age on his thirty third birthday. Frodo had 
been alarmed when it first happened, having thoughts pour into his head. 
More like a voice commanding him. Frodo didn’t know where these ideas 
had come from, but they made sense. Sensible, valiant ideas, on an epic 
scale. Thoughts and wishes about a noble quest to defeat the Dark Lord by 
destroying the One Ring. And saving the whole world. And adventures. 
And fighting. Those solid thoughts that sometimes invaded his mind by a 
wise and kindly voice were fine. And it wasn’t just him. Sam had felt the 
thoughts coming to him, as had his own cousins Merry and Pippin. Even a 
great wizard like Gandalf, and Strider, who had now been King Elessar for 
many years had heard the words. In fact, Frodo’s entire world had been 
drawn by the pull of the words that friendly voice had spoken, right up 
until he and Bilbo had sailed away from The Grey Havens. Then the kind 
voice had just stopped, coming back so rarely that Frodo wondered if he 
imagined it there again at all. It had been the First Voice Frodo heard in 
his mind, and for nigh on fifty years there hadn’t been any others. 
But now....

Frodo couldn’t get a moment’s peace! The wild thoughts had begun softly 
enough. At first, Frodo thought the First Voice was getting bored and 
wanted to have a bit of fun. But soon, the occasional strange idea had 
turned into a regular torrent. It was all Frodo could do to stop from crying 
out. And the ‘First’ had given way to a multitude, too. Any ethereal soul 
that happened to be passing seemed to think Frodo’s form fair game for 
commanding.

It was always the same. He would find the Voices telling him that he 
desired Sam’s body, or vice versa, then imagine what they would do to 
together, and how Sam would be all embarrassed but join in. Or 
sometimes, Sam would start things off between them, then Frodo would 
follow. Sometimes both of them had to suffer the indignity of Frodo’s 
cousins Merry and Pippin being involved. They always appeared to be 
hungry for each other in any of the thoughts that ran through Frodo’s head. 
And sometimes, Frodo even had to endure imagining, even wanting to 
experience, due to the will of the Voice in his head, the horror of being 
intimate with that creature Gollum. Even Sauron. He still shuddered to 
think of that one. But it didn’t seem to matter to the Voice commanding 
his mind at the time <who> he was ‘paired up’ with.

It was relentless. He had once asked Gandalf’s advice over what to do 
about the Voices in his head. The wizard had just said something 
impractical along the lines of: ‘Follow your heart and listen to your soul’. 
Back in the Grey Havens, standing on the quayside, Frodo almost didn’t 
go with them all feeling desolate at the idea of saying goodbye to Sam 
who had done so much for him and been there through the worst. But at 
the time, the First had left them no choice but to say goodbye. Frodo had 
felt the pull of the sea too, and even a wise and powerful wizard like 
Gandalf didn’t really know what to do about the First. And if he couldn’t 
help, then no one else could either.

*Oh no! Here they come again!* Frodo sighed.

____
.... she continued.  "I watched you, Sam, watched you head up here
every day with your dad, then later alone, to 'do for your Mr. Frodo' - it's 
all
you ever talked about, the garden up here, but I'm sure there was a lot you 
left
out.  I was too young to really get it then, but soon enough it was all
explained to me...."

At this, Frodo's eyebrows shot heavenward. "Who..." he gasped.

She stifled a burst of laughter.  "You think no one ever put the pieces
together?  Are we down-hill hobbits all simple folk to you?  Don't pretend, 
Mr.
Frodo.  You were subtle, but not subtle enough for the Cottons."....
____

*******************************

Frodo sometimes wondered if Sam ever heard the wild ideas that his own 
mind forced him to endure, and had even brought it up once or twice with 
Gandalf. That was only after a particularly vivid session of imaginings 
involving a party at Brandybuck Hall where he had to wear seven silk 
veils and was at the mercy of whoever walked in, Sam bringing it all to a 
close. Something about ‘servant’s choice’. And Gandalf hadn’t had to say 
a word. The look on his face and the understanding in his eyes was a 
resounding ‘Yes’.

Of course, Merry and Pippin would be finding it all highly amusing back 
in Middle Earth. Trust them! To find something so humiliating to be side-
splittingly funny.... But Frodo didn’t think they would be aware of the 
intimate sagas that didn’t involve them. And the stories that leapt up 
where there was just himself and Sam.... 
No.
If they knew the thoughts about Frodo Ring-bearer and his Samwise the 
Brave....
They would soon be humbled into silence. Wherever these thoughts and 
Voices came from, Frodo considered, physical attraction aside, they were 
frighteningly accurate when it came to himself and Sam. The countless 
understandings of what had happened when he and Sam had left The 
Fellowship, what each had thought or experienced in Mordor, and how the 
battle for Middle Earth had affected them privately when they were back 
home. 

All of it.... <all> of it was so close to the truth.

Frodo had even wondered if perhaps he should go along with what the 
Voices urged him to do with Sam. Maybe he should travel back across the 
seas and visit The Shire to find out? But that was futile. Sam had a wife 
and children and a life anyway. Although it took great effort of will, Frodo 
resigned himself to the fact that it was all just Voices and thoughts in his 
head. Gandalf had admitted to Frodo that he was similarly disquieted by 
what the new thoughts involved with his friends too. Frodo hadn’t wanted 
to press the wizard on what those thoughts involved, he could guess all too 
easily as it was.

Just as Frodo’s eyes were closing again, hoping for a restful remainder of 
sleep, the thoughts returned. “Oh, bother!” Frodo muttered.

____
.... "Come on, then, kiss him," said Rosie impatiently, hands on her hips. 
Sam turned
to glare at her, but failed to look truthfully upset, as he regarded the sweet
girl smiling before him in her underwear.  "Well...?  It's my wedding 
night. 
And I don't want anyone being sad on my wedding night...so there," she 
said
petulantly.

It turned out that his wife's request matched exactly what he wanted to do, 
so
Sam's good hobbit sense bade him to bend down and do that, and was glad 
he did,
for it seemed that from the desperate response he got that Frodo had 
exactly the
same idea....
____

*******************************

Recently, about a month or so ago, Frodo had heard the First again. He 
had been out for a few days’ walk along the cliffs at the coast when a 
whisper on the breeze caught his ear. The sun was travelling down over 
the land to the west in an early summer’s late afternoon. It was as 
phantasmal as a half remembered dream that he might try to hold on to on 
waking, like the speaker in his mind was talking to someone else far away, 
but the words Frodo did remember spoke of Rosie dieing and suggesting 
to Sam that he travel to the Grey Havens and then on to Tol Eressëa, 
passing the Red Book to Eleanor the Fair on the way. This was a 
considerable comfort to Frodo. Even if he had imagined the First talking 
of Sam’s coming to the Blessed Isle, it made the babble of indecent desires 
and stories easier to cope with. And maybe, if Sam really was coming to 
Tol Eressea, they might weather the new Voices together.

As Frodo fell deeply asleep again, he heard the story in his mind pick up 
again, but it brought him no comfort and desire, only cold distaste.

____
.... Frodo and Rosie locked eyes conspiratorially for an instant, realizing 
that
their desires were the same, and that they were equally determined to get 
what
they wanted.  
"Samwise." Frodo's voice snapped the younger hobbit to attention.  "Kiss 
me. 
Now."  Rosie smirked at Frodo, who was obviously not so inebriated that 
he was
unable to call his servant to duty.  However, he was, as she observed under
close scrutiny, too drunk to keep himself up on both elbows any longer, as 
Sam
obeyed with a deep sigh, pulling himself up on the bed to straddle him.  
She
remained next to them, so close, bodies bumping up against one another.... 
 the two lovers fell into familiar distraction....
Finally, she could watch no longer.... 
Sam's shoulder.... 
all she had to do to let him know.... 
____

*******************************
*******************************

The next day, Frodo woke to the sound of someone knocking on his door. 
It was light outside and the visitor was insistent in their rapping. Frodo 
was feeling a mite grumpy, what with an interrupted night’s sleep just 
passed.

“All right! All right! I’m coming!” he hollered, dragging himself out of 
bed and into a dressing gown on the back of his door. 

When he yanked the front door open, Elrohir was stood there, beaming 
down at him. “Ah, Frodo!” he smiled. “I have some news that we are sure 
you will be glad of!”

“What news would that be then? You know, I was asleep just now”, Frodo 
grumbled, still in a slight stupor.

“I am sure that what I have to say will wake you up”, Elrohir returned.

“This had better be good”, Frodo barely said under his breath, forgetting 
what sharp-eared being was present.

“Oh, it is. It is”, Elrohir said. “Samwise the Brave is coming”, he said, 
looking carefully at Frodo.

Frodo just stared up at the Elf, catching clearly the resemblance of his 
father Elrond in those deep-seeing eyes that read Frodo like a book. “I 
thought that would get your attention”, he said kindly. “Galdor has seen a 
ship approaching last evening, still far out to sea, but coming this way. 
And on board was a child-size passenger, but with the air of one who has 
experienced so much more. One with a stout form and a true heart. They 
will land before nightfall”.

Frodo felt his eyes welling up. Disbelieving, he said “Sam...? Coming.... 
here?”

Elrohir nodded slowly, savouring the joy and happiness spreading through 
the Hobbit before him. Frodo smiled a wide, content, crescent moon. “I 
think I should get the spare room ready”, he beamed.

Elrohir chuckled. “Yes, I think that you must”.

*******************************

All that day Frodo cleaned and polished his small home. When he had 
arrived on the Blessed Isle, the Elves had helped him build a Hobbit Hole 
big enough for himself and Bilbo. It was set in a small hill surrounded by 
ancient woodland near the coast. Near enough to catch a slight saltiness in 
the air if there was a bad storm. Inside, it reminded both Hobbits of Bag 
End wonderfully, with furniture crafted by Elven carpenters just the right 
way, and odds and ends tucked all over the place. But with an unspoken 
understanding, both Frodo and Bilbo had steered well clear of an exact 
copy of Bag End. Just wanting a reminder instead. Now that Bilbo had 
passed on a few years back, Frodo had two guest bedrooms at his disposal. 

Frodo felt sad that Sam wouldn’t be able to see ‘Master Bilbo’ one last 
time, and even more so the change in him that had happened as they 
settled into life on Tol Eressëa. Bilbo had relaxed visibly, and even 
appeared to be less aged than his many years had made him. Heart-
warmingly so. And Frodo knew that he himself had changed as well. He 
didn’t feel any different than the day they had landed, but after several 
decades of rest and enchanted tranquillity, the nightmares he suffered after 
the Quest had practically ceased, and his body felt almost unscathed, his 
left shoulder and right hand only troubling him in the coldest spells of 
winter.

And now Sam was come to the Blessed Isle too! It seemed almost too 
good to be true, but he shrugged off the thought and continued cleaning in 
glee, convinced that nothing could possibly be wrong in Sam joining him 
here forever.


*******************************

Everything had seemed fine. Sam hadn’t said all that much as Frodo ran 
along the quay to greet his long lost best friend. They had literally run into 
each other, hugging tightly as if it would be the last time ever. Then Sam 
had kissed his friend on the cheek. But something about that expression of 
happiness hadn’t settled right with Frodo. Sam had been a little too slow 
about it, planting his lips on Frodo’s face a little too long. But at the time it 
barely registered, they were both so happy to see each other again. Then as 
Frodo took Sam by the hand and introduced the Elves present to him and 
Gandalf greeted him with a sweeping spin in his delighted arms, Sam still 
didn’t say much beyond “Very well, thank you”, or “It’s a pleasure”. Then 
he would turn his eyes back to his beloved Frodo, smiling deeply.

Even when they went back to Frodo’s house and sat talking and eating 
until it got dark, moving outside to enjoy some pipe weed from the Shire 
that Frodo had established in the garden soon after arriving. The moon 
rising in the east and stars twinkling overhead relaxed both Hobbits. It was 
as if they’d never been apart, feeling so relaxed and comfortable sitting 
side by side in the front garden.

After a lull in the conversation, Frodo said, “Sam.... Do you remember the 
Voice we heard, all that time ago, before we set out to save the world?”

Sam grinned slightly. “Aye, sir.... sorry, ‘Frodo’. I just can’t get used to 
plain old Frodo”, he sighed.

Frodo grinned back at Sam, patting his hand. “It will take time, that’s all. I 
didn’t settle in over night either”. Frodo wasn’t sure he should continue 
but he had to ask. After a pause, he casually said, “Do you ever hear it 
these days? The Voice I mean...? Or any.... others?”

Sam looked away through the trees. After another pause, he said, “Aye. I 
do hear them, now and then. But I try not to pay them much mind, if you 
get me”.

Frodo silently shivered out a sigh. Thank goodness. “I know what you 
mean. It’s relentless, isn’t it?” he said with slight bitterness. “Some nights 
I can hardly sleep....”

“Yeah, I can’t hardly either”, Sam replied sounding preoccupied. Then he 
snapped out of whatever he was thinking, saying, “I must say though, 
staying here has done you a power of good though, sir.... <Frodo>”, Sam 
corrected himself. “I can’t imagine how it’ll affect me”.

“Wonderfully, I’m sure”, Frodo smiled, leaning back to look at the stars. 
“Being here makes you feel able to be honest and true to yourself. True in 
a way you couldn’t imagine back in the Shire. Nothing is improper here. 
You can live life in your own way at your own pace”.

Sam looked at his closest friend intently, an unsettling gleam in his eye.
“Is that right?” Sam said absent mindedly. In his relaxed state, Frodo 
mistook Sam’s dreamy tone for happy surprise.

“Yes. I learned to listen to my heart once more and let it heal me. And 
every day is carefree and sublime, even in the coldest deeps of winter”, 
Frodo smiled, sighing out with contentment. 
Sam had come back to him. 
What more could he possibly wish for?

Frodo didn’t see Sam’s smile. 
If he had, he might have thought twice about being here with Sam. 
Forever.

*******************************

Frodo turned awkwardly in his sleep....

____
.... and drew back from her, hands trembling and moving over her
hair, her breasts, and down her front to pull away the ivory ribbon laces 
one by
one, and down further, pulling up the thin cotton... /Did he really look like
that...like THAT...with me?/ thought Frodo, watching the impassioned 
expression
on Sam's face with loving fascination.  He clumsily pushed the pillow 
back from
under his head, ventured a roll over to one side...and was treated to an
absolutely stunning view of Sam, in all his aroused glory, beneath his arms
wrapping around Rosie's golden thighs.  One heart-pounding second, two, 
three,
went by as the space was filled between them with a powerful thrust....
____

It was a warm night so Frodo had left his nightshirt off. He tossed in his 
sleep again, moaning out through parted lips. His mind was at conflict 
with the powerful stream he was receiving, a dream unbidden in his 
mind....

____
.... From somewhere down around Frodo's right hip, familiar deep groans 
rose along with completely unfamiliar feminine sounds of delight and little 
puffs of breath
against his thigh.  The bed started to move beneath him in a predictably
rhythmic way. His eyes smarted a little, and he realized he hadn't blinked 
in
several minutes.  /Ah...this...is worth it, just tonight.../  It was all he 
could do to keep himself in check, somehow keep himself from...from...he 
wasn't
sure what he wanted to do, what he was able to do, in this situation.  All he
knew was the thrum of his own racing heart and the fire in his loins 
rushing
through him, searing every nerve.  Giving up the last of his self-control, 
his
hands moved unconsciously down to his breeches, which were already 
partway open,
pushing them down and away.....
____

Frodo was trying desperately to wake from the nightmare in his mind, 
falteringly unfolding a few words at a time, stretching it all out in a slow 
motion freak show....

____
.... "Sam, dear, oh look, move, there you go..." She touched his face but 
seemed to be addressing someone else, and Sam became warmly aware of 
the places where Frodo's inverted body was touching them both, and that 
the slight figure was shifting around against Rose's side.  His heart skipped 
a beat but he did not falter.  He opened his eyes and the sight of  Frodo's 
erection against her cheek almost sent him right over the edge....
____

Frodo sat bolt upright, crying out as he was released from the desire of the 
dream. He gasped air into his lungs in deep breaths, putting a hand up to 
his face to steady himself. Then he froze mid-breath. There it was again, a 
quiet knock at his door.

“Mr. Fro.... Frodo?” came Sam’s voice quietly from outside. “’You 
alright?”


“Yes, Sam. Just.... having a bad dream”, Frodo relaxed, breathing out.

The door opened and Sam crept into the room. Frodo could see Sam in the 
pale, silvery-blue moonlight and was startled that he had nothing on. Sam 
walked over to Frodo’s bed, sitting on the edge and stroking his arm. It felt 
a bit strange to Frodo, considering what he had just been dreaming about.

“What were you dreaming, me dear?” Sam asked gently.

‘Me dear’ didn’t comfort Frodo as much as it might. “I.... The Voices were 
in my dreams tonight. I never know when they’ll come.... I can’t even 
escape them in my sleep....” Frodo broke off, a lump welling up in his 
throat.

“Shhhh, love. I heard them as well tonight. They woke me up.... Then I 
came to you”, Sam said, hugging Frodo’s head to his chest. “Don’t worry, 
I’m here now. You don’t have to hear them alone again. I’ll not leave 
you”, he said, running his hand up and down Frodo’s back.

“Thank you, Sam. It’s been horrible going through it all on my own. I 
asked Gandalf about the new Voices, but he wasn’t much help”, Frodo 
confessed. At the back of his mind, he could hear the commanding 
thoughts faintly returning. “Oh, no....” he whimpered.

____
....As before, the part of Sam that was still cognitive realized that Rosie 
knew instinctively what he wanted.  She was truly amazing.  Surprising.  
And now no thought remained, only the sweet taste of Frodo in his mouth 
and the pressure of Rosie driving against him with renewed insistence 
below....
____

“What do you mean, ‘Oh no’?” Sam softly asked. “We can hear them.... 
together”.

Frodo’s blood ran cold.

____
....Rosie suddenly threw her head back at the same time and, with 
shuddering gasps
of her own, dropped her legs from their grip on his heaving sides.  Sam 
kissed
her then and embraced her, and Frodo could see her quivering fingers 
caress the
back of Sam's neck as she said something to him too quiet for him to 
hear....
____

Sam’s hand was stroking lower now. Lower than Frodo’s back. He had 
heard the tone in Sam’s voice this time. Lust and desire bound up with the 
love and friendship they both shared.

“Sam....?” Frodo’s throat was shaking so much he hardly said the name. 
And to his horror he could feel his friend becoming aroused against his 
chest. He tried to pull away but Sam held him tight. 
Frodo was trying his hardest not to listen. Thinking of something, 
anything, but what his mind was seeing.
And the thoughts, in dribs and drabs, flowed on....

____
.... Frodo almost moved then to pull away from the couple, but was stilled 
with two
hands, one Sam's, one Rosie's, grabbing the bottom of his open shirt with 
sudden
ferocity, pulling his body back over....
____

“No.... Sam, no”. It was barely more than a whisper.

“Hush, my love.... my love....” Sam murmured, losing himself to the muse 
flowing through their souls. He gently pushed Frodo back down onto the 
bed. “I know you can hear it.... As sure as I know you heard the First that 
drove us to Mount Doom.... and lost you your finger”. Sam broke off, his 
voice tightening up with painful memories.

“Sam.... please. We don’t have to listen to it....” Frodo pleaded, struggling 
again as Sam lay his weight on Frodo, forcing his legs apart with his own. 
“I’ve heard so many Voices.... forcing me to want.... things”. Tears started 
in Frodo’s eyes. “Over and over.... Sam!...” But try as Frodo might, the 
thoughts and words were as commanding as ever. Sam was right. The 
ideas that had led them both through hell and back may sound different, 
but with his Sam so close now, he could not fight them. Frodo began 
gasping silently.
And the muse spoke on....

____
...."Not done...don't move." Sam made himself perfectly clear and 
wrapped one strong
arm behind Frodo's rear, pulling him again between his lips, deeply this 
time,
with more vigour than before....
____

Frodo hadn’t noticed Sam bring anything into the room with him, but 
suddenly felt Sam’s fingers slippery at his opening, gently pushing inside. 
Frodo gasped, raising his head.

He was dismayed to see Sam smiling down at him, forced desire in his 
ghostly moonlit face. “I don’t want to hurt you, me dear”, Sam gently said, 
relaxed happiness all over him.

“Sam....” Frodo breathed. “Don’t listen.... It’s not....” He wanted to scream 
out but his will was being overruled. Sam tenderly put a finger to Frodo’s 
lips.

“Shhhh. Hush, my love. It’s been so long....” Sam said, oiling his oozing 
shaft. Frodo desperately tried not to look, but he felt himself wanting to 
touch Sam’s hard flesh, against his will.

____
.... Rosie didn't move from her position but giggled, more relaxed now, 
observing from a very good vantage point indeed.  Sam moved his tongue 
deftly up and down Frodo's straining erection, relishing the breathless 
whimpering that action seemed to cause in his master....
____

“All that time, when you went away.... And I was left at home.... Then the 
last few years, when the new Voices came....” Sam said, looking slightly 
abashed, even now. “I could be with you again.... Be near you”. He paused 
breathing deeply, closing his eyes, as he ran his slick hand sensually down 
his length and back up again. Then his lids fluttered open, and he said with 
pure devotion. 

“And the tenderness, and love.... and passion.... Wouldn’t you rather be 
lost in joy with your Sam.... than lost in a tower, tied up, naked and 
bruised, at the mercy of...?” Sam couldn’t go on. His throat seized up, and 
tears ran down his face. 

After a moment he said, “Now I can be with you, love you as I never 
dreamed.... Give you pleasure....” New tears ran from his eyes, but Sam 
gritted his teeth as he lowered himself to Frodo’s opening, holding himself 
with one hand to rest on his friend’s flesh.

“Do right by you.... just say the word....” Now Sam really couldn’t say any 
more, his nose beginning to stream, and spittle began to run from his open 
mouth as he silently wept.

____
.... Frodo's left hand clawed against the small of his muscled back and he 
suddenly tensed up, his whole lower body rising from the sheets, and he 
cried out Sam's name repeatedly....
____

Frodo could hardly fight any longer. He knew this was wrong. Not loving 
Sam the way he appeared to be about to, but doing so against his will. 
Maybe so many years apart had made Sam mad? Mad from the torrent of 
new ideas and ordering thoughts that had slewed through both their minds 
over the last four or five years. And maybe Sam was right. Wasn’t it better 
to be forced to enjoy pleasure rather than pain?

As Sam sank himself with trembling self-control into him, Frodo’s grip 
was slipping. 
*This isn’t real*, he tried to think. *....not happening*. Instead, his body 
started to take over, feeling Sam inside of itself. Frodo felt himself being 
swept away in the genuine pleasure of Sam moving inside of him, kissing 
his chest and neck with such love.

____
.... Hearing his name brought Samwise back to the brink again, and the 
feel of the
hot liquid spilling down his throat shocked him and thrilled him all at 
once....
____

And for a brief moment in time, Frodo allowed himself to be carried along 
by the commanding thoughts in his head. The first time in half a century. 
He was reliving the past, in the Shire, in Bag End. Not in the past that 
happened, but a path of ideas that now felt as real as his own history. And 
Sam was here, loving him, bringing them both to climax, bucking inside 
Frodo, wanking Frodo hard as they both came, feeling the story they were 
in thundering around them.

____
.... Finally, in a breathless instant, Sam pulled himself up and gripped the 
sheets,
teeth clenched in a spasm of ecstasy, filling his Rose then, and feeling her
squeeze his hand in appreciative response....
____

Frodo prayed through the saturating ecstasy in his mind that afterwards he 
would remember what his past had really contained, that this fantasy of 
him and Sam and Rosie had never really happened. But right now, all he 
was aware of was Sam inside of and surrounding him, saying with a 
content sigh, “Ah, Frodo.... That was incredible.... See, the Voices aren’t 
so bad.... are they?”

Sam raised his head, looking down at Frodo with complete love and hope 
on his face. Frodo loved that face. How could he refuse? Refuse Sam 
anything? Frodo knew he didn’t really have to answer. As the voices knew 
all too well, they knew each other inside out. 
“No.... no, they aren’t”, he said with a small smile.

And as Sam lay on his lover smiling and gently stroking his cheek, on the 
edge of exceptional Hobbit hearing, Frodo was sure he heard someone 
sobbing.

It sounded like the First.

END