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Apr. 6th, 2004 06:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Remember, folks, this is crack!fic. I type in whatever in this "story" comes to mind, no editing, no agonizing. This morning's segment is somewhat of a flashback, so for those of you squicked by mpreg, there's none of that in this one! :-)
Frodo looked to Aragorn and saw that his hands trembled. It brought Frodo back to the first day he had met the Ranger. Frodo had been in Butterbur’s inn, drinking an ale, his feet swinging from the bench. He made observation of his environment. There were not many men to choose from this evening. Mostly a gruff and scruffy lot, with loud, slurred voices. No kind or handsomely wolfish faces to be found among them.
He startled as he met eyes with a figure who had previously been hidden to him in the dark corner. His eyes gleamed dark, and the ember of his pipe was the only flickering movement. The man was cloaked, and unlike most people, he had not removed his cloak upon making it to the inside. He must be hiding something. Frodo watched him for some time, thinking he might go over and take a chance in introducing himself. If nothing else, perhaps he could have some interesting conversation. He ached with loneliness. He rarely saw hobbits here and when he did, they did not care to talk for him for too long. They saw him as unnatural, a hobbit from the Shire – odd in its own right -- who socialized regularly with men.
After a time, he got up, intending to catch a breath of fresh air before returning and possibly gaining the nerve to strike up conversation with the mysterious man in the corner.
Once out in the alley, he was startled when his arm was grabbed and he was pushed to his knees. “Give us all you got!” a slurred voice yelled.
Frodo twisted his head around to see who his attacker was, but he was pushed roughly to his back then. He looked up to see three swaying men.
“I don’t have anything,” Frodo gasped. A strong arm reached down and yanked Frodo to his feet, shaking him.
“What? The little rat princeling doesn’t have anything? How do you intend to pay for your ale then? Or do you do *other* duties for old Butterbur?”
“Leave me alone,” Frodo said, looking toward the inn, as if he thought anyone would help. “I shall shout for aid.”
“I don’t think you wanna do that.” A second man put a knife to Frodo’s throat. “Now give up all you got, halfling, or you’re going to be left to die here in the alley like a common whore.”
Another man let his hand fall on Frodo’s groin. “Pretty little thing. Maybe we should use him first.”
Frodo kicked the man’s shin right in front of him. His feet could pack a punch and the man was stunned with pain, stumbling backward. The surprise offered him a moment to escape the grip of the one who held a knife to him and he broke free. He had nearly made it to the door, when he was yanked back and flung to the ground more roughly than before. A hard kick landed in his side and he felt his shirt ripped down over his shoulders.
At that moment, several things happened. The door was flung open, there were shouts, Frodo heard the unsheathing of swords, the footfalls of men running away, and Butterbur’s final warning, “And don’t you come back here no more!”
Frodo dared open his eyes. The hooded stranger knelt beside him, lifting his head gently. “Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Frodo trembled, but he managed to say, “I do not think so.” He breathed, and his ribs cried out in protest, but they did not feel broken. “I don’t know if I was robbed or not. They tried to rob me.”
Frodo was sitting up now, and he gingerly checked his pockets. He could not find any of his coins. He had never gone to a place and partook of its food and drink and not had the means to pay for it, and he could only imagine the consequences of such action, mainly that Butterbur would have him thrown in prison, he looked up, and as a result, his eyes filled with frustrated tears that he had no intention of shedding. “I’m sorry…Butterbur, I cannot pay then—“
“He is covered,” the hooded one said. “Whatever he had, put it on my bill.”
Frodo turned adoring eyes to him. “Thank you. You did not have to do that.”
“No. Now allow me to help you up. Where do you live? I would walk you home.”
“Thank you. I…I have been lodging and working with a family on Appleberry Farm. They allow me to sleep in the barn, on hay.”
“If you would have my company, I can think of a better place for you to spend your evening.”
Frodo’s heart jolted, because he would like nothing more than to spend the night with this mysterious stranger who had saved his life.
Frodo looked to Aragorn and saw that his hands trembled. It brought Frodo back to the first day he had met the Ranger. Frodo had been in Butterbur’s inn, drinking an ale, his feet swinging from the bench. He made observation of his environment. There were not many men to choose from this evening. Mostly a gruff and scruffy lot, with loud, slurred voices. No kind or handsomely wolfish faces to be found among them.
He startled as he met eyes with a figure who had previously been hidden to him in the dark corner. His eyes gleamed dark, and the ember of his pipe was the only flickering movement. The man was cloaked, and unlike most people, he had not removed his cloak upon making it to the inside. He must be hiding something. Frodo watched him for some time, thinking he might go over and take a chance in introducing himself. If nothing else, perhaps he could have some interesting conversation. He ached with loneliness. He rarely saw hobbits here and when he did, they did not care to talk for him for too long. They saw him as unnatural, a hobbit from the Shire – odd in its own right -- who socialized regularly with men.
After a time, he got up, intending to catch a breath of fresh air before returning and possibly gaining the nerve to strike up conversation with the mysterious man in the corner.
Once out in the alley, he was startled when his arm was grabbed and he was pushed to his knees. “Give us all you got!” a slurred voice yelled.
Frodo twisted his head around to see who his attacker was, but he was pushed roughly to his back then. He looked up to see three swaying men.
“I don’t have anything,” Frodo gasped. A strong arm reached down and yanked Frodo to his feet, shaking him.
“What? The little rat princeling doesn’t have anything? How do you intend to pay for your ale then? Or do you do *other* duties for old Butterbur?”
“Leave me alone,” Frodo said, looking toward the inn, as if he thought anyone would help. “I shall shout for aid.”
“I don’t think you wanna do that.” A second man put a knife to Frodo’s throat. “Now give up all you got, halfling, or you’re going to be left to die here in the alley like a common whore.”
Another man let his hand fall on Frodo’s groin. “Pretty little thing. Maybe we should use him first.”
Frodo kicked the man’s shin right in front of him. His feet could pack a punch and the man was stunned with pain, stumbling backward. The surprise offered him a moment to escape the grip of the one who held a knife to him and he broke free. He had nearly made it to the door, when he was yanked back and flung to the ground more roughly than before. A hard kick landed in his side and he felt his shirt ripped down over his shoulders.
At that moment, several things happened. The door was flung open, there were shouts, Frodo heard the unsheathing of swords, the footfalls of men running away, and Butterbur’s final warning, “And don’t you come back here no more!”
Frodo dared open his eyes. The hooded stranger knelt beside him, lifting his head gently. “Are you hurt?” He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Frodo trembled, but he managed to say, “I do not think so.” He breathed, and his ribs cried out in protest, but they did not feel broken. “I don’t know if I was robbed or not. They tried to rob me.”
Frodo was sitting up now, and he gingerly checked his pockets. He could not find any of his coins. He had never gone to a place and partook of its food and drink and not had the means to pay for it, and he could only imagine the consequences of such action, mainly that Butterbur would have him thrown in prison, he looked up, and as a result, his eyes filled with frustrated tears that he had no intention of shedding. “I’m sorry…Butterbur, I cannot pay then—“
“He is covered,” the hooded one said. “Whatever he had, put it on my bill.”
Frodo turned adoring eyes to him. “Thank you. You did not have to do that.”
“No. Now allow me to help you up. Where do you live? I would walk you home.”
“Thank you. I…I have been lodging and working with a family on Appleberry Farm. They allow me to sleep in the barn, on hay.”
“If you would have my company, I can think of a better place for you to spend your evening.”
Frodo’s heart jolted, because he would like nothing more than to spend the night with this mysterious stranger who had saved his life.
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no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 07:21 am (UTC)"What is this?" asked the Ranger turning the small foil wrapped package over in his hands.
"I believe in safe sex, " replied Frodo. "In The Shire we call them condoms. I don't want to get pregnant or anything."
"And you think a hobbit sized condom will fit ME!?" Aragron asked in amazed disbelief.
"Yes," said Frodo, taking the package to open. "You see they stretch to fit hobbits but will still be small enough for a man."
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 02:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 08:55 am (UTC)Hope you're doing better today than you were!
Kisses.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 09:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 12:44 pm (UTC)Kisses.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 12:58 pm (UTC)Damn it, you saw through me!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 02:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 01:42 pm (UTC)Well, yeah. But *this* particular Frood would like nothing more than to be with any number of attractive men, let's face it. It's just very lucky this one came along, or he'd be picking up someone else.
Love Sluty!Lonesome!Misfit!Frodo to pieces, Claudia. Thanks for this.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 02:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 07:05 pm (UTC)Ha ha ha... I love that... Frodo just sets his sights on one and goes for it. Weak things, men, with no self-control. :)
He's so horny, isn't he? And just looking for trouble, all the time. Love it, as always.
no subject
Date: 2004-04-07 02:46 am (UTC)Take that you ruffians!!
Date: 2004-04-06 07:24 pm (UTC)Ellie
Re: Take that you ruffians!!
Date: 2004-04-07 02:44 am (UTC)Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2004-04-06 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-07 02:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-04-07 11:23 am (UTC)yetin this one.no subject
Date: 2004-04-07 01:25 pm (UTC)