claudia603 | Drabble: All Nothing

Despite a good smoke, a good laugh, and a sweet kiss, all shared with Sam, Frodo was still cross when he went to bed.

Every time he had glanced at Faramir, the Man had been gaily laughing with Eowyn -- stroking her long slender fingers, fiddling with her hair. And the new Prince of Ithilien had hardly passed three words to Frodo since Aragorn's coronation. And come to think of it, Frodo thought, brow now furrowed in rage, he hadn't even been able to look at Frodo in the eye while doing so, either. The cave in Henneth Annun had apparently meant nothing. The sweet night spent bucking and writhing, clutching one another with desperate need? Nothing at all. That which had sustained his spirit through Mordor -- all nothing.