Title: Possessions Author: Aderin Iris Author's Email: aderiniris@hotmail.com Pairings: Lotho/Sam Rating: NC-17 Summary: Set just after Bilbo's disappearance, Lotho and Sam develop an unlikely relationship. Sam sees Lotho's true character. Author's Note: Feedback of any sort welcome, hope you like it! There he was. Just walking in as if he owned the fucking bar. Which he might as well. Of course, there'd be some unpleasant talk about his mad cousin disappearing - Lotho'd make sure there would be talk - but after that died down, he'd still be left with the key to Bag End and decades left to cling on to it. It was so unfair. The Sackville-Bagginses were the rightful owners, they'd waited years for the chance to inhabit the finest hole in Hobbiton, then suddenly, this Frodo had just appeared and demolished their dreams. Lotho grimaced as he took another gulp of his pint. Someone else walking in now - just that Gamgee boy. Only a gardener, wasn't he? Then why did Frodo's face light up like that when he saw who he was? Well. That was interesting. Not that it made any difference. If Frodo even hinted, the bloody commoner would fuck him 'til next summer. In this town, anybody would do anything for the Master of Bag End. "C'mon," Lotho growled to his lackey, who looked up, surprised. "I haven't finished yet," he whined, indicating his glass. Lotho snorted and strode out of the crowded tavern. As he had expected, Ferrin Brockhouse scittered out after him a few moments later. "Why'd we have to leave, Lotho?" he demanded. "Just starting to get interesting in there. Everyone was talking about Old Bilbo vanishing. It was the queerest thing, though, wasn't it? And now Frodo's in charge of Bag End, and him only just out of tweens, and..." "Don't mention that little wretch's name in my presence!" Lotho snarled, and in one swift move had Ferrin pinned to the wall by his neck. "Alright! Sorry, Lotho! Let go, will you?" he gagged. With a hiss, Lotho released the miserable hobbit, who fell to the ground, breathing deeply. "Well, well, Lotho, what are you doing to young Ferrin?" Lotho turned warily. "What do you want, Proudfoot?" Bundo Proudfoot's face displayed mock-hurt. "Is that any way to greet an old friend? Not very polite, is he, boys?" The small group of ruffians behind Bundo grunted their agreement. Lotho remembered when they used to be *his* group of ruffians. It wasn't so very long ago when he had led the most feared and respected gang in Hobbiton. But mutiny stirred in Bundo and soon Lotho was left only with Ferrin. "What do you want?" he repeated. At that moment, Samwise Gamgee emerged from the tavern. Not noticing the hostile group a few hundred feet away, he produced a pipe and thoughtfully filled and lit it. "Sam Gamgee," Bundo mused. "What is he now, twenty, twenty-one? Fine young lad, strapping." "Are you going to spend all day babbling about him? I have things to do, you know," Lotho interrupted. "I heard he's quite the expert at gardening," Bundo continued, ignoring the intrusion. "Baridon was saying just the other day, weren't you?" "What? Oh, yes," one of the beefier lads replied dutifully. "Does the borders real nice." "See?" Bundo said triumphantly. "And I overheard Frodo Baggins saying that he couldn't live without him now he owns Bag End. Awful lot of garden, Bag End has. Well, you'd need a lot of garden to go with that hole. I don't think there's a bigger one this side of the Shire! Or one so charming." Lotho clenched and unclenched his fists. "Such a pity that you didn't get it," Bundo continued innocently. "You shut up," Lotho snarled. "After you'd waited for so long. But still," Bundo admitted, "it was to be expected. I mean, who'd entrust a place like Bag End to a Sackville-Baggins?" Bundo was expecting the punch and ducked accordingly. Smiling, he gave the signal for attack to the gang. Of course, they would never start a fight - just sometimes hobbits like Lotho got a little out of hand, and of course, one had to make sure he'd learn his lesson. A shout. Sam looked up to see seven brawny hobbits surround Lotho and one holding him roughly by the shoulders. The blow was almost in slow motion - straight forward into the victim's mouth. "Oi!" Sam cried. One of the hobbits looked up and smirked before returning to pounding Lotho. Sam sighed. He hated to be violent. He walked over to the group menacingly, his eyes dark. "Get off him. Now," he demanded. Bundo whistled and his gang dropped Lotho and fled from the scene. It was fine to be in a fight when you were in charge, but there was no way he was going to get involved with a strong fellow like Samwise. Lotho collapsed to the ground. Why had they stopped? Maybe Ferrin had...no, that little bastard was nowhere to seen. He'd obviously fled at the first sniff of danger. Then he saw Sam rushing over to him. "Are you alright, Mr Lotho? I mean, obviously not, but you are conscious?" Sam asked in genuine concern. "I'm fine," Lotho answered crossly. "They were laying into you pretty badly..." "So what? A few bruises. I didn't need you to interfere," Lotho snapped. "Oh. I'm...sorry, sir," Sam said, confused. Then: "Your chin!" Lotho's hand flew to his jaw. It didn't hurt too much, but you never knew...if that Proudfoot had broken anything in his face, his looks would be ruined. His hand came down again smeared with crimson. "I can get help..." Sam offered hesitantly. Lotho sucked his lower lip experimentally. He tasted blood. "I think I must have cut my lip against my teeth. Not that serious," he decided. Wasn't the gardener going to go? "Well, thank you, but I don't need your help," Lotho said, rising. "Perhaps...shit!" "What?" Sam asked, rushing to steady the swaying hobbit. "My head...Eru, it's like a fucking hangover!" Lotho groaned. Sure enough, there was also blood lacing Lotho's dark hair and where Sam gingerly brushed aside some curls, dried blood scarred where it had dribbled down. "Look, you can't go back into the tavern looking like that. The mayor'll be onto you for fighting again. You need to get washed up, at least," Sam said, full of authority. "And how in middle-earth am I supposed to do that? It's either back to civilisation or wandering the bloody back hills of Hobbiton for eternity," Lotho pointed out curtly. Sam looked at Lotho in a worried way for a few seconds. Then he half nodded to himself and looked down shyly. "Come with me. I know my way around 'the back hills of Hobbiton' pretty well. There's a place...I don't show many people..." Lotho looked in surprise at the young hobbit. He suddenly realised that this was Samwise Gamgee, the gardener and close friend of Frodo Baggins. He sees good in everyone...it would be so easy... A smile flickered at his lips. "It seems I have no other choice," he admitted, and let his hand be grasped by a common gardener who quickly led him deep into the verdant wildness into which sensible hobbits would never venture. * * * The pair had talked most of the way there, Sam revealing gardening secrets, Lotho enchanting Sam with tales he'd heard before Sam's time. "Where did you hear all them stories?" Sam wanted to know. "Bilbo told them to me," Lotho replied. Seeing the hobbit's unbelieving expression, he laughed bitterly. "Oh yes. There was a time, long ago, when I was in favour at Bag End. It's funny how relatives forget you when you go off the rails a bit and there's a younger, more impressionable hobbit to take care of." Sam seemed surprised, and opened his mouth to answer, but it was then they came to the clearing. A clearing amongst the trees; a clear river running through; grass specked with daisies. As soon as they reached it, Lotho stared around himself in amazement, the sun bathing his face. "Come on, sir. Just to the river," Sam said, embarrassed of his paradise. Lotho followed him down to the water's edge. It was clear as a summer's day, he could see each stone as the water eddied and swirled around them. They sat down and Sam wetted a handkerchief he had produced. Self-conscious, he held Lotho's dark hair away from the cut on his forehead and dabbed at it gingerly. "Does it hurt too much?" he asked. "No. Not too much," Lotho conceded. "Thank you...for doing this...you didn't have to." "It's nothing. I could hardly have left you," Sam said, flustered. "Couldn't you? That snake, Ferrin, did, and he's supposed to be my friend," Lotho pointed out. There was a pause. "Begging your pardon, sir, but there's some that'd say that Ferrin's no good, that he only follows you for the status," Sam said apologetically. "And who'd say that? You?" Lotho asked. Sam blushed. "I spoke out of turn, sir, and I'm sorry if I've offended you or your acquaintances," he said. "Speak your mind, I don't care. Who am I to inflict fake etiquette on others? And don't call me sir, either. Alone, out here, it doesn't seem right for hierarchy to impose. Just call me Lotho - all my other friends do," Lotho requested. "Sir! That wouldn't be right, me acting as an equal and..." Sam started. "Don't be ridiculous!" Lotho said. "I was born into a family that, though not of noble blood, has high standing in the Shire, and you were born into a line of gardeners. Should the chance of birth be enough for someone who helped me when all others had deserted me to call me 'Sir' and 'Mister'? Call me Lotho and I should be honoured." "Alright. Lotho," Sam said tentatively. He washed his handkerchief in the water and for a second, red-brown fingers ran through the clearness. "Your head's clean now...the gash doesn't look that bad, and it's mainly covered by your hair, anyway. You can get away with it back home," Sam affirmed. "I've got to do your chin now, though, so don't talk for a while." Lotho nodded, and smiled his gratitude. Sam carefully wiped away the blood from his chin, then, after a short hesitation, cleaned some off his stained lips. "There! You look fine, Lotho, I shouldn't think you'll be in any trouble," Sam said. Lotho leant over the river. The water was clear enough form him to see a rippling reflection. He touched his forehead where the wound showed. Sam appeared beside him. "Do you really think nobody'll notice?" Lotho asked anxiously. "I'll make you a daisy chain to cover it if you're that worried," Sam offered mischievously. Lotho laughed. "Would you really? I've never made one." "What?" Sam asked, amazed. "Not even when you were a lad?" Lotho shook his head. "Well, you've got to know how to make a daisy chain! It's a valuable life skill. You won't get far without it," Sam insisted. "So teach me," Lotho said, caught up in the game. So Sam showed Lotho how to pierce the stem and thread another daisy through until together, they had made a ring of the flowers. Sam placed it on Lotho's head. "Oh! You look grand, like an elf-prince from one of Mr Bilbo's stories!" he squealed. "It'd probably look better on you," Lotho said modestly. "Fair adorns fair better." Lotho carefully lifted the crown off his head and rested it on Sam's. His hand stayed at one of the flowers, playing with it. "How do I look?" Sam demanded. "You look..." Lotho started. Sam's hair was shining golden in the sun, his eyes sparkling. A smile graced his lips as he tried not to laugh. Suddenly, Lotho leant forwards and kissed Sam. Gently, their lips met for a brief second. Sam could taste the salty remnants of blood lingering despite his cleansing. He pulled away. "Um..." he said helplessly. "I'm sorry, I don't know...why...," Lotho said desperately, running a hand through his hair. "Um," Sam repeated. "Look, you're wonderful, I suppose I couldn't help myself," Lotho continued nervously. "I understand that you don't feel the same way." He laughed bitterly. "Nobody ever does, you know. Everybody thinks I'm an arrogant, conceited bully, nobody comes near me anymore. How do you escape that label? So I understand." "I don't think you're an arrogant, conceited bully," Sam said, finally finding his voice. "Really?" Lotho asked earnestly. Then he sighed. "Well, then, there's another reason. A girl, perhaps, or maybe you think I'm odd for preferring lads. Or 'I'm not your type'. Or you're still worried about the status thing." "No," Sam said, shaking his head. "None of those things." "Then what?" Lotho appealed to him despondently. "Nothing. There's no reason," Sam said firmly, and, to his own surprise, pulled Lotho towards him and locked him in a much longer, much more passionate kiss. "But you pulled away," Lotho whispered when the kiss finally broke. "You didn't give me much warning, did you?" Sam pointed out. "I was surprised, that's all. No one's ever wanted my before," he added shyly. "Is that so?" Lotho wondered. "Always said they're strange folk in Hobbiton." Sam smiled and caught him in another kiss. Lotho drew him closer until they were pressed together, Lotho's hands in Sam's curls, toying with the daisies. Their bodies curved against each other, fitting so well it was as if they'd been crafted for that purpose. "The sun is sinking," Lotho noted when they next parted. "It will be dark in less than an hour. If we go back, we should start soon." If we go back... "My gaffer won't mind so much if I'm away for a night...as long as I work tomorrow, what I do the rest of the time is my business," Sam ventured. "My parents won't care...I'm an adult, aren't I?" Lotho said. A delicate pause. "So...you're suggesting I stay here with you for the night?" "Suggesting? I'm asking you to," Sam corrected. "I'd be...very happy if you agreed." "Get ready to be delirious, then," Lotho responded slyly. He skilfully grabbed Sam's arm and twisted him until he was pinned to the grass, then proceeded to continue where he had left off, kissing Sam's eager lips and letting their tongues slide together. It was not long before Sam was moaning in protest and encouragement. Lotho slid his hands under Sam's shirt, feeling the warmth of his body and pressing it close to himself. Sam started to unbutton Lotho's shirt. "Are you sure you want to...?" Lotho asked anxiously. Sam thought about how scared he'd been to tell anyone he liked lads, how he'd smiled at Rosie but not encouraged her kisses, how he'd yearned for Frodo but he always had to call him Mister and never reveal his true feelings. He thought how open Lotho had been - Lotho, whom everyone else had branded as a good-for-nothing! - how Lotho let him be himself and respected him. How thoughtful he was being even now, making sure Sam understood what he wanted. "Yes," Sam answered firmly. Everyone else was wrong. Lotho had a reputation and nobody would look past it. Lotho smiled gently, and let Sam remove his shirt, helping him with his own. Soon they were both naked from the waist up. Sam noticed a scar coming down from Lotho's shoulder. He stroked it questioningly. "Fight," Lotho answered shortly. When he saw the disapproving flicker that passed over Sam's face, he added, "Years ago. I was probably younger than you even. There was nobody to tend my wounds then. No vitalizing water or healing hands." He looked lifted Sam's hands to his lips and kissed them gently. Sam blushed in the deep light of sunset. "Why are you doing this?" Sam asked him. "Why are *you* doing this?" Lotho returned. Sam looked away. "I don't know. It just feels like this is how things should be." "Must there always be reason?" Lotho contemplated softly. "I only talked to you properly a few hours ago, but already I know that I...I don't know, I think I love you." He lowered his eyes, but through his coal lashes he watched Sam's reaction carefully. "My gaffer always taught me that love came through time and tenderness. But now I think...Lotho, he might be wrong. I can't imagine this ever being an evil thing to do, all I can see is that I've talked to you for an afternoon and already I know that I want to be with you," Sam said slowly. "This place is beautiful and you more so - this evening has been perfect," Lotho confessed. "I haven't been with anybody for a long time - it's never felt right before. But this does. I can wait for you, Sam; I'll wait for you forever. If you don't want to keep going..." "No!" Sam interrupted loudly. "No. I do. I just wanted to understand." "There is no sense in the affairs of the heart," Lotho whispered and kissed Sam again. It was another soft kiss, reserved and nervous. "It just feels like this is how things should be," Sam repeated quietly, and traced his fingers down Lotho's front. His partner shivered. Sam's fingers reached the lacings of Lotho's breeches and, shaking, began to unfasten them. Soon, Lotho wore nothing at all. Quickly, he made sure Sam was in the same state as him. They were joined in their most passionate kiss yet; moans and sighs escaped from both of them. Lotho ran his fingers through Sam's hair, knocking the daisy chain to the grass. They crushed the flowers with the weight of their bodies. Their erections were rubbing together now, and it was hard for Sam to keep control of himself. He gulped as Lotho stroked the inside of one of his legs. He tried to concentrate on something which had been bothering him. "I've not...done this before," he struggled. "That's alright, I'll be gentle," Lotho promised. "No, no...that's not it...it's just that...oh, that's good...don't you need...I thought you needed...oil or...something," Sam said painfully. "Don't worry about that," Lotho soothed, "it's under control." For a second, Lotho left Sam. Where did he go? Sam panicked and struggled up onto his elbows...but there he was. He had a bottle of something - probably the oil. That was fine then. But...why did he have it? Before Sam could consider this further, Lotho was back atop of him, this time sitting upright. Another kiss, to assure Sam of his affection, then quickly he poured the contents of the bottle into his hands and discarded it. He rubbed some onto his own length, making it slick and ready. Sam's eyes lit up, and he tried to help, his fingers slipping along Lotho, making him squirm desperately. "Are you ready?" he asked Sam. Sam nodded eagerly. Lotho rubbed the rest of the oil into his hands and carefully slid a finger into Sam, who cried out softly. "If it hurts, tell me to stop," Lotho insisted anxiously. "Don't stop," Sam commanded, his eyes shining. Lotho slipped more fingers into Sam, who bit his lip. Finally, he lowered himself into Sam, and they were joined. Sam clutched at the grass as he pushed up, accommodating Lotho. Lotho breathed heavily, each of his thrusts bringing both of them closer to climax. Having retained some control of himself, he carefully fluttered teasing fingers up Sam's erection. The younger hobbit gasped and twisted his hips slightly in surprise. "Keep going!" he urged when Lotho withdrew his hand. "If you stop now..." Lotho obediently wrapped an oily hand around Sam, who dropped his head back in satisfaction, lustful moans escaping his lips. He arched his back, trying to get closer to Lotho and let him penetrate deeper. Every movement now heightened his ecstasy, each touch enhanced his arousal. Lotho had been right when he'd said everything was perfect - it was. To think that a few hours ago he had been thirsting for Frodo, but thought that no other hobbit was like him, no other hobbit preferred lads. How things can change in an afternoon! Sam was certain that Lotho was ideal for him, just misunderstood - and Sam could certainly empathise with that. So close now, Sam knew that he couldn't hold on that much longer. Even Lotho, who had at least seemed quite composed, was punctuating his thrusts with cries of desire, his forehead glistening with a sheen of sweat. "Sam! Sam!" he cried desperately. "Lotho!" Sam returned, and felt the sweet wave of orgasm shudder through him, and Lotho release hot liquid into him. Lotho withdrew, and they lay panting side by side on the grass, watching the stars. * * * When Sam woke up, his arm was around a sleeping Lotho. The morning sun lit up his partner's features, which were currently arranged in an uneasy frown. Sam decided to let him sleep and, after gently kissing his cheek, he wandered down to the river to wash. When he had finished, he returned to find Lotho dressing himself. Sam stood there, still naked. Lotho said nothing. Soon he was fully clothed, and he turned to go. "Wait!" Sam caught Lotho's arm, and the other hobbit span round. "What are you doing?" Sam asked, feeling foolish. Instead of an answer, Lotho pulled Sam into a ferocious, hungry kiss. The others had all been loving, tender. This was violent, animal, all-consuming; all Sam could think of was Lotho, all he could see in his mind was Lotho. Finally, he was released, and he staggered back a few paces, dizzy from the unexpectedly brutal kiss. Lotho's lip curled scornfully. "When you next see your dear master," he spat, "you can tell him that there is one thing Lotho Sackville-Baggins has possessed before him." With a derisive laugh, Lotho disappeared into the surrounding trees, leaving Sam desperately trying to understand what had just happened.