Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
PG15
Disclaimer: Characters owned by Prof Tolkien. No profit is made nor offence intended.
AN: Each section has 100 words, split 50-50 between Frodo's POV and Aragorn's. Thank you to Baranduin for the beta and encouragement. A birthday story in 2004 for Beruscats.
Feedback: Always appreciated - perhobfan@yahoo.co.uk
On Food
Frodo
My poor stomach is growling and Sam is fretting. Merry and Pippin are hardly getting enough to get by on by their standards. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for a bowl of hot mushrooms dripping in butter and those herbs Sam adds to give just the right flavour. Clever Sam.
Strider
Dry venison. It’s good. Fresh meat tomorrow. They will enjoy that. They need to eat so often! Strange creatures, these Hobbits. Samwise still seems to mistrust me, and I hardly blame him. Perhaps when I present him with a brace of conies, he will soften a little. We shall see.
On Sleep
Frodo Stones. Sharp stones. And twigs. Sam snoring, soft snuffles. If I turn away, then I might not hear him.
Sigh.
Merry is snoring, also. Louder even than Sam. Drat. This blanket is so thin. I wonder if my cosy eiderdown back home misses me as much as I miss it.
Strider
He’s restless again. The others fell asleep easily enough, yet he tosses and turns. The moonlight is shining on his hair; such soft hair. There he goes again. Turning. No sleep for me this night. Tomorrow I must trust one of them to take a watch. But not this night.
On Walking
Frodo
It’s all right for him; he has such long legs. I daresay he has stridden across the whole of Middle-earth upon them and ne’er faltered a single step. He certainly looks as if he has half of Middle-earth upon those breeches. So stained. So worn. So very full…
Strider
Our journey is going to take longer than I supposed. They do their best, but I have to slow my pace to accommodate their short legs and ridiculous feet. Frodo is struggling more than the others; his burden actually seems to be weighing him down. I must – he’s fallen – again!
On Singing
Frodo
How can they sleep? How can they snore and snuffle when he is singing of love and loss? How soft is his voice, yet clear and strong… I could listen to him singing like this forever. Oh, Strider. He is not at all like I thought a Man would be.
Strider
He would have a gentle voice, I am sure. He could sing a bawdy song of mushrooms and ale and Hobbit holes and yet it would be poetry to my ears. Oh, Frodo. He is not like the others. Not at all. All is new, all is sweetness and surprise.
On attraction
Frodo
Lucky is she who holds his heart, and lucky are they together. Love elusive, love for others, not for me. Oh, Strider. Oh this passion, that creeps with stealth and gives no quarter. Drat it. Not even a tumble to be had, it seems, a tumble to ease the pain…
Strider
Does Frodo have a love at home? Perhaps his love is here – one of his cousins, or Sam? Yet, if so, why does he look at me at times as if I were the main course? Devour me, Frodo, eat me up. I am your dinner plate, lick me clean…
On joining
Frodo
So this is a Man! Heavy and earthy and long of limb… His mouth upon mine is hot and insistent. He’s so greedy, as if he has been too long in Wilderland, too lonely… Strider, make me yours. Here. Now, while they sleep. We’ll think on the rest… later. Oooh…
Strider
So this is a Hobbit! Soft and hard and warm to my touch… He melts into my kisses, yet I do not doubt the fire in his belly. Frodo, beautiful Frodo. For a little while, let’s forget why we are here. We are merely lovers in the moonlight. Holding on.
On parting
Frodo
How could I believe, for a second, that he would take It from me? He kneels before me and my heart knows the truth. Yet I must leave him. Go on alone. Be without him. Perhaps forever. There is no happy ending, it seems, for a Hobbit and a Man.
Strider
I would never dishonour him; the Ring is his to bear. Yet, our dreams are fading and he must go. But I will find him, after... When this is over, we will be together. There is, after all, still much to learn, of Hobbits and Men. Be safe, my love.
On reunion
Frodo
We had our time, in the wild, my Strider and I. So little time, now it seems. Aragorn, with your healing hands, heal my heart and set me free. Send me away, I shall not cause you trouble, my Man – no - my King. I will go and you will stay.
Strider
You say you must go, leave for the good of all, return to the Shire. You will leave Minas Tirith. Leave me. I say no! What good is it to be King if your heart must die with your crowning? There is much I do not know, Frodo! Teach me…
On reflection
Frodo
Did I do the right thing? Will I still be wondering, right up to the moment my heart stops beating? Yet, there is peace in the land and children’s laughter in the stone streets of Minas Tirith. Perhaps that is all the answer I need. That, and my lover’s kiss.
Strider
His hair is speckled white, and he moves a little slower. Yet his eyes are still those of my Frodo, my beautiful Hobbit. All these years together! And still… There are so many ways we differ, my Hobbit and I. Still much to discover. The world is in his kiss.
The End