Healing Hands
Dec. 20th, 2010 10:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Title: Healing Hands
Rating: G
Word Count: 700
Summary: Aragorn does what he can to ease Frodo's aching feet.
Written for a waymeet challenge!
Frodo leaned against an icy boulder. He pulled his hood over his face and wrapped his cloak around him, but he still shivered from the cold. Although he should have taken hope from the gray light that filled the eastern sky, he knew it would be another cloudy and windy day with no relief in sight from the relentless chill.
“I promise, the weather will improve once we get past Caradhras.”
Frodo startled at the sound of Aragorn’s voice, so close to his ear. The Ranger walked nearly as quietly as a hobbit.
“How can you not be exhausted?” Frodo asked. “You walk just as much as we do and yet you go off to hunt and scout while the rest of us are resting. And it is I who feel weary deep down in my bones. Thank you again for all you do for the company.”
“It is nothing.” Aragorn smiled. “Do not feel ashamed for being weary. It takes many years of sleeping in ditches and wandering the wild to grow accustomed to rough travels.”
“And we’d die first,” Frodo said in a playfully mocking voice. “Unless we are made of sterner stuff than we look.”
Aragorn laughed. “Will you always hold that against me?”
“I do not hold it against you. It’s the truth.”
“Nay,” Aragorn said. “I would guess you hobbits are tougher than those nuts Gimli cracks between his teeth every night.”
Frodo laughed. “Maybe so. At any rate, I’m beginning to feel like one. My feet ache every night. Do you ever get used to that?”
Aragorn looked suddenly concerned. “Your feet ache? May I see?”
“Oh, no,” Frodo said, embarrassed. “I did not mean. You’ve done enough for me.”
Aragorn spread his hands out in surrender. “Please. There is not enough that I can do to make the Ringbearer comfortable on this journey. It would ease my heart to offer any comfort possible.” He settled in front of Frodo, cross-legged, and then said, “Come, rest your foot in my lap so it doesn’t get cold again.”
“Very well,” Frodo said, lifting his right foot and placing it in Aragorn’s warm lap, somewhat suspicious.
Aragorn dug his fingers into Frodo’s foot, pausing to get a good grip.
“What are you doing?” Frodo asked, more in curiosity than alarm.
“Just relax,” Aragorn said. He massaged Frodo‘s foot, rubbing his fingers in firm circles. His fingers seemed to know exactly where they were needed most to ease the aches, those places that throbbed constantly, even while Frodo was at rest.
“Oh.” Frodo said. “That feels wonderful.”
"Shall I go on?"
"I would beg you to!"
Aragorn smiled and continued to place all his attention on Frodo’s foot, sometimes burying his fingers deep into the thickest of Frodo’s foot hair, sometimes focusing on the tough soles. “Hobbit feet continue to astound me. I had never seen them up so close until I traveled with you and your kin.”
Frodo’s aches began to diminish, replaced by a pleasant tingling in his foot. Energy seeped up his leg. “Why, that’s astounding,” he said. “I feel almost as if I could go on today and walk all day without rest.”
Aragorn gently set Frodo’s foot back down. “Come, your other foot now.”
Frodo gladly placed his left foot in Aragorn’s lap. He was beginning to feel very sleepy.
Aragorn set to work on Frodo‘s left foot. Frodo leaned back against the log and closed his eyes. He had nearly fallen into a doze when he heard Aragorn chuckle.
“What?” Frodo asked with a smile without opening his eyes.
“For such gentle creatures, you hobbits have feet tougher than the gnarly roots of the oldest trees in Middle-earth.”
“Perhaps you men could learn a thing about shoemaking from it?”
“Or armor. I have no doubt that even the sharpest knife would have trouble piercing the soles of your feet.”
“Mmm,” Frodo said, closing his eyes again. That night they would march again for hours upon hours through the cold, but for now, in this peaceful moment, thanks to the dearest of friends, Frodo could finally get some rest without the wretched aching in his feet.
END
Rating: G
Word Count: 700
Summary: Aragorn does what he can to ease Frodo's aching feet.
Written for a waymeet challenge!
Frodo leaned against an icy boulder. He pulled his hood over his face and wrapped his cloak around him, but he still shivered from the cold. Although he should have taken hope from the gray light that filled the eastern sky, he knew it would be another cloudy and windy day with no relief in sight from the relentless chill.
“I promise, the weather will improve once we get past Caradhras.”
Frodo startled at the sound of Aragorn’s voice, so close to his ear. The Ranger walked nearly as quietly as a hobbit.
“How can you not be exhausted?” Frodo asked. “You walk just as much as we do and yet you go off to hunt and scout while the rest of us are resting. And it is I who feel weary deep down in my bones. Thank you again for all you do for the company.”
“It is nothing.” Aragorn smiled. “Do not feel ashamed for being weary. It takes many years of sleeping in ditches and wandering the wild to grow accustomed to rough travels.”
“And we’d die first,” Frodo said in a playfully mocking voice. “Unless we are made of sterner stuff than we look.”
Aragorn laughed. “Will you always hold that against me?”
“I do not hold it against you. It’s the truth.”
“Nay,” Aragorn said. “I would guess you hobbits are tougher than those nuts Gimli cracks between his teeth every night.”
Frodo laughed. “Maybe so. At any rate, I’m beginning to feel like one. My feet ache every night. Do you ever get used to that?”
Aragorn looked suddenly concerned. “Your feet ache? May I see?”
“Oh, no,” Frodo said, embarrassed. “I did not mean. You’ve done enough for me.”
Aragorn spread his hands out in surrender. “Please. There is not enough that I can do to make the Ringbearer comfortable on this journey. It would ease my heart to offer any comfort possible.” He settled in front of Frodo, cross-legged, and then said, “Come, rest your foot in my lap so it doesn’t get cold again.”
“Very well,” Frodo said, lifting his right foot and placing it in Aragorn’s warm lap, somewhat suspicious.
Aragorn dug his fingers into Frodo’s foot, pausing to get a good grip.
“What are you doing?” Frodo asked, more in curiosity than alarm.
“Just relax,” Aragorn said. He massaged Frodo‘s foot, rubbing his fingers in firm circles. His fingers seemed to know exactly where they were needed most to ease the aches, those places that throbbed constantly, even while Frodo was at rest.
“Oh.” Frodo said. “That feels wonderful.”
"Shall I go on?"
"I would beg you to!"
Aragorn smiled and continued to place all his attention on Frodo’s foot, sometimes burying his fingers deep into the thickest of Frodo’s foot hair, sometimes focusing on the tough soles. “Hobbit feet continue to astound me. I had never seen them up so close until I traveled with you and your kin.”
Frodo’s aches began to diminish, replaced by a pleasant tingling in his foot. Energy seeped up his leg. “Why, that’s astounding,” he said. “I feel almost as if I could go on today and walk all day without rest.”
Aragorn gently set Frodo’s foot back down. “Come, your other foot now.”
Frodo gladly placed his left foot in Aragorn’s lap. He was beginning to feel very sleepy.
Aragorn set to work on Frodo‘s left foot. Frodo leaned back against the log and closed his eyes. He had nearly fallen into a doze when he heard Aragorn chuckle.
“What?” Frodo asked with a smile without opening his eyes.
“For such gentle creatures, you hobbits have feet tougher than the gnarly roots of the oldest trees in Middle-earth.”
“Perhaps you men could learn a thing about shoemaking from it?”
“Or armor. I have no doubt that even the sharpest knife would have trouble piercing the soles of your feet.”
“Mmm,” Frodo said, closing his eyes again. That night they would march again for hours upon hours through the cold, but for now, in this peaceful moment, thanks to the dearest of friends, Frodo could finally get some rest without the wretched aching in his feet.
END