Arranged Marriage chapter 9
Jan. 27th, 2008 02:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603Title: Arranged Marriage 9
Rating: R
Pairing: F/A (F/other)
Summary: Frodo to be married to Aragorn? What could lead to this!
Warnings: AU, way AU, Frodo doesn’t even have the Ring, Aragorn is a bitter Ranger who dislikes hobbits…at first.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make nothing.
Previous chapters:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Frodo and Maron continued to meet, and while they went through the motions of being discreet, it was really only half-hearted and careless. Deep down, Frodo knew very well that all of Bree must be talking about him. Part of him craved it. But when he was alone in bed at night, a sickening guilt filled his stomach. After all, Strider had done him a big kindness, keeping him out of prison. But he craved the warmth from Marin’s bed. He felt needed when Maron panted and groped him, and just knowing that he drove Maron mad with desire was enough to keep meeting him.
One day Frodo arrived home after an afternoon with Maron in a clearing of the woods on a warm day. He felt satiated and warm, rather drowsy and content.
Strider was home.
Frodo’s stomach sank and his heart sped. “Oh, hallo,” he said. “You’re back.” A rush of emotions assailed him -- disappointment that he would not get to meet Maron again for awhile, perhaps not ever, a surprising joy to see Strider, and guilt.
“I’m here for merely a week,” Strider said.
Frodo flushed. “I wasn’t…well, I wasn’t expecting you, so do you want me to go back to Bree and get more food?” Part of him hoped he could, so he could at least find Marin and warn him that he would not be able to visit for the next week.
“I’m all right,” Strider said. “Right now, I want to rest.” His voice sounded kind for a change, which made Frodo feel more guilty. “I’d not mind your company.”
Frodo’s heart flopped. Why was Strider being so kind? Mixed with the guilt came a new feeling, that of delight, that a lost or buried dream was unfolding.
“I’d not object to a nap,” Frodo said.
Strider nodded. He wrapped himself up in a cloak and curled up on the bed. Frodo crawled up to join him. Strider smelled of sweat and dirt, and Frodo wrinkle his nose in disgust. He really would have to start insisting that Strider bathed before climbing into bed.
“How has Bree been since I’ve been gone?” Strider asked.
Frodo looked at him, puzzled. Strider had never taken to small talk, and Frodo wasn’t sure what to make of it. A new twinge of guilt stirred in his stomach and he wondered if Strider could have guessed or found out about Maron.
“The same as it’s always been, I suppose,” Frodo said, swallowing. “Why do you ask?”
“It is only that I have become aware of some unsavory folk from the south coming in. I only wondered if perhaps you had heard anything. Have you had any trouble?”
“None at all,” Frodo said with a forced smile.
“You don’t travel this road to the cottage late at night, I should hope?”
Frodo was once again surprised. Strider was showing him genuine concern. It made him feel warm with wistful longing. He wished…oh how he wished that Strider would take him like Marin had, hard and unapologetically, but thus showing him that he wanted him and loved him.
“Oh, well, of course.” That was a partial lie. Sometimes he had stayed late with Maron and had made his way along the path late at night with his heart in his throat. He had crept silently, as all hobbits can do when they choose, and he was always prepared to jump off to the side of the road if he needed to.
“There are bandits that hide out in these woods at times. You bolt the door at night?”
Again, it had never occurred to Frodo to do that because of fear of what was out in the woods, although he had always bolted the door out of habit. He nodded.
“Good,” Strider chuckled a little grimly. “You may be surprised to know it, but I am becoming somewhat fond of you.”
Frodo could not help but smile back. “Tell me, Strider, where do you go when you wander?”
“Many dark places.”
“Tell me about one such place.”
“Have you heard about the Mines of Moria?”
Frodo frowned for a moment and then nodded. “Bilbo told me about it once a long time ago. He said that his friend Balin lives there, deep under the mountain.”
Strider nodded. “It is a dark and evil place. Although the dwarves may think they hold it, they never have and never will. There is ancient evil down there that never sleeps.”
“Orcs?”
“Oh, yes, there are certainly Orcs and goblins and many unnamed and hideous creatures that crave the dark places of the earth. But I do not fear Orcs. My sword has slain hundreds of Orcs and shall slay hundreds more before I die. Nay, it is not orcs that I fear. They say that there is a demon deep down, made of fire and smoke.”
“A demon?”
“A demon of the ancient world, a Balrog.”
“Tell me about it.” Frodo snuggled closer to Strider, feeling utterly safe in his presence, and enjoying as he always did a good tale.
His stomach sank a little when he thought about Maron. Maron would expect him tomorrow. If Frodo did not show up, what would happen? Would Maron be so foolish as to seek him out? What would he think if he saw Frodo and Strider together? Frodo did not want Marin to be hurt, and selfishly, he wanted Maron to wait for him for when Strider left again. Oh, to have a companion to keep him warm all the time, that was what Frodo really craved.
Strider went on in his low voice. “I have never seen this demon, but I have spent time among the Elves, as you know, and journeyed many leagues with my dear friend that you know of as Gandalf. In the House of Elrond in Rivendell there is a library the likes of which you have never seen anywhere in your Shire and certainly not in Bree. There are history books upon history books, maps upon maps.”
“Oh.” Frodo’s heart stirred with a desire to see this library. “Oh, I bet I could spend hours and hours in there. I bet I could become lost in there.”
“In that library is where I learned about the Balrog. It may be my destiny to face much evil before my time is done, but I hope never to face that.”
“Are there underwater lakes in Moria?”
Ever since Frodo had heard Bilbo’s tale of meeting Gollum under the mountain on a lake, he had had a morbid fascination with the idea that a lake could lie deep under a mountain. So dark and deep, filled with unknown creatures like fish that had never seen the light with big bulgy eyes.
“Oh, yes.” Strider nodded. “And caverns that twist and turn. You could become lost in there and never see the light again.”
Frodo was struck silent at the thought. “Why would anyone go in there then?” he finally asked.
“Well,” Strider answered. “It yields a secret and dark way that very few would brave. If you wanted to avoid being seen on the main road, then you would take the road under the mountain. You could also attempt to go over the mountain, but Caradhras has its own evil there, and making it over the pass without getting piled in snow is a rare thing.”
“There is so much that I don’t know about the outside world.”
“You should be content with that.” Strider reached over and touched Frodo’s shoulder. Frodo shivered with unrepressed delight. His heart sped.
Strider bent forward and kissed Frodo’s mouth in a gentle but probing manner. Frodo leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth to Strider. How much nicer this was than Maron’s rough kisses.
“Will you make love to me?” Strider asked. Frodo glanced down and could see that Strider’s cock was stiff.
Frodo nodded, breathless.
“You are not afraid?”
“We’ve done this before,” Frodo said with mischievous smile.
“Ah, but then it was forced. I know you got no pleasure from it.”
“You did not try to give me pleasure,” Frodo said. “Now you will.”
Strider laughed, and gently slipped Frodo’s shirt off his shoulders. He kissed each shoulder, clearly enjoying it when Frodo gasped and shivered in delight. Strider went on to unbutton Frodo’s shirt the front. He massaged Frodo’s chest letting his hands wander everywhere, especially pausing at his nipples with tender care. Frodo was not really sure what to do in return. Maron expected nothing from him; he only tried to get his own crude pleasure. Strider seemed to want to take things slowly this time. Frodo groped at Strider’s tunic, working to untie the many ties. Strider kissed Frodo hard and frantically while pulling his breeches over his hips, kneading his buttocks and groping between his thighs until Frodo gasped in uncontrolled pleasure.
“Now, now…” he panted.
When they finished, sweaty and fully spent with seed sticky and warm between their thighs, they lay panting in each other’s arms. To Frodo, it felt like coming home. Never mind how surly and awful Strider could be. He felt safe in his arms, and loved.
“Strider, do you feel better about hobbits now?”
“Hobbits?”
“Halflings? My kind?”
“I don’t know. Are you proving me wrong?”
“I don’t know. Am I? I would very much like it if we could be friends.”
“I thought we were considerably more than friends,” Strider said, rubbing Frodo‘s bare shoulder.
“Well, yes, only I always feel a bit awkward around you. I’m always afraid I will do something wrong in your presence. You’ve made it apparent that you feel forced into this, well, marriage of convenience.”
“Well, were we not?”
“Well, yes, of course, but now that we are stuck together, do you not think we might make the best of it? Do you think you might ever…do you think we might come to love each other?” Frodo held his breath. If Strider answered in the manner that he wanted, with love and warmth, then he knew just what he needed to do that day. He would go see Maron immediately and break it off. He could handle the loneliness if he knew that Strider could love him.
Strider shook his head with a cynical smile. “I trust very few people, Frodo. By now you should have perceived that at least. It will take a lot more than a night or a day in bed with someone before I would give him my heart. You are asking if you think I might one day love you. I cannot tell you that right now. Maybe so but I do not feel that now. I do not feel bitter toward you as I might have in the beginning.” He paused while Frodo’s stomach continued to sink. “Frankly, you and I have little in common to warrant friendship, much less a true coupling. Let us take this as it is, a partnership with occasional benefit.”
Frodo felt suddenly cold inside, terribly lonely all the sudden. He could see years and years stretched out in front of him in which he was lonely, and Strider came only occasionally and only gave a tiny portion of his heart to him. “I suppose it is immaterial to me what you think. I don‘t suppose I could ever love you. There‘s not much warmth in your heart, after all.”
Strider shrugged and turned away from him. Frodo lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his heart aching so much it hurt to breathe. He was trapped. He was trapped forever in a partnership with a man who would likely never feel more for him than friendly affection. Frodo would go to Maron the next day and perhaps he could beg Maron to take him away. Frodo smiled at the idea. In time, he could come to love Maron and they could share a life and bed together for many years to come.
Frodo snapped awake, and first he realized that realized Strider was gone and second, he realized that his heart hurt. But it made no sense. Why should his heart hurt over Strider? Strider had been nothing but resentful over having to marry a hobbit. He had only married him to save him from prison to do a favor to an old mutual friend, and while he might not hate Frodo and might enjoy his company occasionally, he would never love him. As he said, they had next to nothing in common.
Frodo was willing to open his heart wide open the moment Strider spoke to him in kindness. Everything about that afternoon was blissful to him -- tales of faraway places, the slow love-making, the feeling of safety. And then Frodo had ruined it by asking Strider that which should have remained unspoken.
Frodo knocked on Maron’s room. Maron seemed overjoyed to see him. “I’d heard your Ranger was back. I didn’t think I’d see you again, not before I left.”
Frodo shut the door and leaned against it. “Take me with you.”
“What?” Maron looked truly stunned.
“Wherever you’re going, take me with you.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible, as much as I’d love to.”
“Why not? We’ll settle somewhere, far from Bree, and you can leave for your duties whenever you need to, and I can keep your bed warm.”
“Why do you want to leave Bree? Is it your Ranger?”
“He’s not my Ranger except on paper,” Frodo said with some bitterness. “It’s you I love.” That last was a lie, but he knew that it was what Maron would want to hear, the thing that would push him to take Frodo away with him.
“You love me?” Maron asked, stunned. “I thought I was but a warm bed to you.”
Frodo flushed, feeling bitterly ashamed of himself, but unable to stop. “You were…at first. But I’ve become very fond of you, and I wish that you would just take me away from here.”
“But aren’t you bound to Strider? Wouldn’t the lawmen come after us if you leave?”
Frodo closed his eyes, feeling weary at the thought. “If we get far enough away, these country folk won’t dare follow us. Come, Maron. You’re a warrior. Consider it an adventure. At the end of it, we won’t have to sneak to be together.”
Maron sank down on the bed. “I’m mighty tempted. You’re…I’ve never been with anyone like you before, as unnatural as some might call it. When I heard your Ranger was back, I felt some pain. I knew you were in love with him.”
“I’m not,” Frodo said, too harshly.
Maron shrugged as if he didn‘t quite believe Frodo. “Well, maybe, maybe not. It’s possibly the most foolish thing I’ve ever done, but I’ll do it. I’ll take you away if you want. It’s at a risk to us both, so I want you to be really sure of it.”
Frodo ran to Maron and flung his arms around him. “Thank you.” He kissed his cheek.
Maron grasped his shoulders and gently pushed him away. “I want you to leave me now. If you’re sure you want to leave with me, meet me at the south gate before sunrise.”
Frodo nodded.
“I won’t wait long,” Maron said. There was something in his eyes that said that he expected Frodo not to show up, but he was willing to pretend otherwise for the time.
Frodo left him then, his heart pattering. When he got home, Strider was sharpening and cleaning his weapons. Grease had pooled on the floor.
Well, I’ll never clean up after him again, he thought. His heart pained at the thought.
“Where have you been?” Strider asked.
“Talking to a friend,” Frodo said. He wondered how he could pack without appearing suspicious.
“You have made friends here?”
“Does this surprise you?” Frodo asked, flushing. No, he would not miss Strider’s surly nature, not one bit.
Strider shrugged. “So, any thought to finding yourself gainful employment again? Something that you can do, that is.”
“There is much that I can do,” Frodo said. “Perhaps washing the dirty undergarments of Bree’s men was not the best use of my talents.” Then he decided that he could be kind since he might never see Strider again. “It has been very kind of you to be patient with me.”
Strider chuckled grimly. “Kindness is not a factor. You are young, but you are no child that need be badgered every day. I would have thought you would have started looking again as soon as you were well.” He shrugged as if he found Frodo ridiculous in every way.
Frodo gritted his teeth and ignored him.
“Butterbur is concerned about you,” Strider added.
Frodo jumped a little. “Oh?” he answered casually. “And why should he be?”
“He says that you are too eager to talk to strangers, some of whom might have a shady past.”
“And what of it? And why is it your business?”
“For better or for worse, Frodo, you are my business now.”
Ha, Frodo thought to himself. Not for long. Not for long.
Rating: R
Pairing: F/A (F/other)
Summary: Frodo to be married to Aragorn? What could lead to this!
Warnings: AU, way AU, Frodo doesn’t even have the Ring, Aragorn is a bitter Ranger who dislikes hobbits…at first.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make nothing.
Previous chapters:
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8
Frodo and Maron continued to meet, and while they went through the motions of being discreet, it was really only half-hearted and careless. Deep down, Frodo knew very well that all of Bree must be talking about him. Part of him craved it. But when he was alone in bed at night, a sickening guilt filled his stomach. After all, Strider had done him a big kindness, keeping him out of prison. But he craved the warmth from Marin’s bed. He felt needed when Maron panted and groped him, and just knowing that he drove Maron mad with desire was enough to keep meeting him.
One day Frodo arrived home after an afternoon with Maron in a clearing of the woods on a warm day. He felt satiated and warm, rather drowsy and content.
Strider was home.
Frodo’s stomach sank and his heart sped. “Oh, hallo,” he said. “You’re back.” A rush of emotions assailed him -- disappointment that he would not get to meet Maron again for awhile, perhaps not ever, a surprising joy to see Strider, and guilt.
“I’m here for merely a week,” Strider said.
Frodo flushed. “I wasn’t…well, I wasn’t expecting you, so do you want me to go back to Bree and get more food?” Part of him hoped he could, so he could at least find Marin and warn him that he would not be able to visit for the next week.
“I’m all right,” Strider said. “Right now, I want to rest.” His voice sounded kind for a change, which made Frodo feel more guilty. “I’d not mind your company.”
Frodo’s heart flopped. Why was Strider being so kind? Mixed with the guilt came a new feeling, that of delight, that a lost or buried dream was unfolding.
“I’d not object to a nap,” Frodo said.
Strider nodded. He wrapped himself up in a cloak and curled up on the bed. Frodo crawled up to join him. Strider smelled of sweat and dirt, and Frodo wrinkle his nose in disgust. He really would have to start insisting that Strider bathed before climbing into bed.
“How has Bree been since I’ve been gone?” Strider asked.
Frodo looked at him, puzzled. Strider had never taken to small talk, and Frodo wasn’t sure what to make of it. A new twinge of guilt stirred in his stomach and he wondered if Strider could have guessed or found out about Maron.
“The same as it’s always been, I suppose,” Frodo said, swallowing. “Why do you ask?”
“It is only that I have become aware of some unsavory folk from the south coming in. I only wondered if perhaps you had heard anything. Have you had any trouble?”
“None at all,” Frodo said with a forced smile.
“You don’t travel this road to the cottage late at night, I should hope?”
Frodo was once again surprised. Strider was showing him genuine concern. It made him feel warm with wistful longing. He wished…oh how he wished that Strider would take him like Marin had, hard and unapologetically, but thus showing him that he wanted him and loved him.
“Oh, well, of course.” That was a partial lie. Sometimes he had stayed late with Maron and had made his way along the path late at night with his heart in his throat. He had crept silently, as all hobbits can do when they choose, and he was always prepared to jump off to the side of the road if he needed to.
“There are bandits that hide out in these woods at times. You bolt the door at night?”
Again, it had never occurred to Frodo to do that because of fear of what was out in the woods, although he had always bolted the door out of habit. He nodded.
“Good,” Strider chuckled a little grimly. “You may be surprised to know it, but I am becoming somewhat fond of you.”
Frodo could not help but smile back. “Tell me, Strider, where do you go when you wander?”
“Many dark places.”
“Tell me about one such place.”
“Have you heard about the Mines of Moria?”
Frodo frowned for a moment and then nodded. “Bilbo told me about it once a long time ago. He said that his friend Balin lives there, deep under the mountain.”
Strider nodded. “It is a dark and evil place. Although the dwarves may think they hold it, they never have and never will. There is ancient evil down there that never sleeps.”
“Orcs?”
“Oh, yes, there are certainly Orcs and goblins and many unnamed and hideous creatures that crave the dark places of the earth. But I do not fear Orcs. My sword has slain hundreds of Orcs and shall slay hundreds more before I die. Nay, it is not orcs that I fear. They say that there is a demon deep down, made of fire and smoke.”
“A demon?”
“A demon of the ancient world, a Balrog.”
“Tell me about it.” Frodo snuggled closer to Strider, feeling utterly safe in his presence, and enjoying as he always did a good tale.
His stomach sank a little when he thought about Maron. Maron would expect him tomorrow. If Frodo did not show up, what would happen? Would Maron be so foolish as to seek him out? What would he think if he saw Frodo and Strider together? Frodo did not want Marin to be hurt, and selfishly, he wanted Maron to wait for him for when Strider left again. Oh, to have a companion to keep him warm all the time, that was what Frodo really craved.
Strider went on in his low voice. “I have never seen this demon, but I have spent time among the Elves, as you know, and journeyed many leagues with my dear friend that you know of as Gandalf. In the House of Elrond in Rivendell there is a library the likes of which you have never seen anywhere in your Shire and certainly not in Bree. There are history books upon history books, maps upon maps.”
“Oh.” Frodo’s heart stirred with a desire to see this library. “Oh, I bet I could spend hours and hours in there. I bet I could become lost in there.”
“In that library is where I learned about the Balrog. It may be my destiny to face much evil before my time is done, but I hope never to face that.”
“Are there underwater lakes in Moria?”
Ever since Frodo had heard Bilbo’s tale of meeting Gollum under the mountain on a lake, he had had a morbid fascination with the idea that a lake could lie deep under a mountain. So dark and deep, filled with unknown creatures like fish that had never seen the light with big bulgy eyes.
“Oh, yes.” Strider nodded. “And caverns that twist and turn. You could become lost in there and never see the light again.”
Frodo was struck silent at the thought. “Why would anyone go in there then?” he finally asked.
“Well,” Strider answered. “It yields a secret and dark way that very few would brave. If you wanted to avoid being seen on the main road, then you would take the road under the mountain. You could also attempt to go over the mountain, but Caradhras has its own evil there, and making it over the pass without getting piled in snow is a rare thing.”
“There is so much that I don’t know about the outside world.”
“You should be content with that.” Strider reached over and touched Frodo’s shoulder. Frodo shivered with unrepressed delight. His heart sped.
Strider bent forward and kissed Frodo’s mouth in a gentle but probing manner. Frodo leaned into the kiss, opening his mouth to Strider. How much nicer this was than Maron’s rough kisses.
“Will you make love to me?” Strider asked. Frodo glanced down and could see that Strider’s cock was stiff.
Frodo nodded, breathless.
“You are not afraid?”
“We’ve done this before,” Frodo said with mischievous smile.
“Ah, but then it was forced. I know you got no pleasure from it.”
“You did not try to give me pleasure,” Frodo said. “Now you will.”
Strider laughed, and gently slipped Frodo’s shirt off his shoulders. He kissed each shoulder, clearly enjoying it when Frodo gasped and shivered in delight. Strider went on to unbutton Frodo’s shirt the front. He massaged Frodo’s chest letting his hands wander everywhere, especially pausing at his nipples with tender care. Frodo was not really sure what to do in return. Maron expected nothing from him; he only tried to get his own crude pleasure. Strider seemed to want to take things slowly this time. Frodo groped at Strider’s tunic, working to untie the many ties. Strider kissed Frodo hard and frantically while pulling his breeches over his hips, kneading his buttocks and groping between his thighs until Frodo gasped in uncontrolled pleasure.
“Now, now…” he panted.
When they finished, sweaty and fully spent with seed sticky and warm between their thighs, they lay panting in each other’s arms. To Frodo, it felt like coming home. Never mind how surly and awful Strider could be. He felt safe in his arms, and loved.
“Strider, do you feel better about hobbits now?”
“Hobbits?”
“Halflings? My kind?”
“I don’t know. Are you proving me wrong?”
“I don’t know. Am I? I would very much like it if we could be friends.”
“I thought we were considerably more than friends,” Strider said, rubbing Frodo‘s bare shoulder.
“Well, yes, only I always feel a bit awkward around you. I’m always afraid I will do something wrong in your presence. You’ve made it apparent that you feel forced into this, well, marriage of convenience.”
“Well, were we not?”
“Well, yes, of course, but now that we are stuck together, do you not think we might make the best of it? Do you think you might ever…do you think we might come to love each other?” Frodo held his breath. If Strider answered in the manner that he wanted, with love and warmth, then he knew just what he needed to do that day. He would go see Maron immediately and break it off. He could handle the loneliness if he knew that Strider could love him.
Strider shook his head with a cynical smile. “I trust very few people, Frodo. By now you should have perceived that at least. It will take a lot more than a night or a day in bed with someone before I would give him my heart. You are asking if you think I might one day love you. I cannot tell you that right now. Maybe so but I do not feel that now. I do not feel bitter toward you as I might have in the beginning.” He paused while Frodo’s stomach continued to sink. “Frankly, you and I have little in common to warrant friendship, much less a true coupling. Let us take this as it is, a partnership with occasional benefit.”
Frodo felt suddenly cold inside, terribly lonely all the sudden. He could see years and years stretched out in front of him in which he was lonely, and Strider came only occasionally and only gave a tiny portion of his heart to him. “I suppose it is immaterial to me what you think. I don‘t suppose I could ever love you. There‘s not much warmth in your heart, after all.”
Strider shrugged and turned away from him. Frodo lay on his back, staring at the ceiling, his heart aching so much it hurt to breathe. He was trapped. He was trapped forever in a partnership with a man who would likely never feel more for him than friendly affection. Frodo would go to Maron the next day and perhaps he could beg Maron to take him away. Frodo smiled at the idea. In time, he could come to love Maron and they could share a life and bed together for many years to come.
Frodo snapped awake, and first he realized that realized Strider was gone and second, he realized that his heart hurt. But it made no sense. Why should his heart hurt over Strider? Strider had been nothing but resentful over having to marry a hobbit. He had only married him to save him from prison to do a favor to an old mutual friend, and while he might not hate Frodo and might enjoy his company occasionally, he would never love him. As he said, they had next to nothing in common.
Frodo was willing to open his heart wide open the moment Strider spoke to him in kindness. Everything about that afternoon was blissful to him -- tales of faraway places, the slow love-making, the feeling of safety. And then Frodo had ruined it by asking Strider that which should have remained unspoken.
Frodo knocked on Maron’s room. Maron seemed overjoyed to see him. “I’d heard your Ranger was back. I didn’t think I’d see you again, not before I left.”
Frodo shut the door and leaned against it. “Take me with you.”
“What?” Maron looked truly stunned.
“Wherever you’re going, take me with you.”
“I don’t know if that’s possible, as much as I’d love to.”
“Why not? We’ll settle somewhere, far from Bree, and you can leave for your duties whenever you need to, and I can keep your bed warm.”
“Why do you want to leave Bree? Is it your Ranger?”
“He’s not my Ranger except on paper,” Frodo said with some bitterness. “It’s you I love.” That last was a lie, but he knew that it was what Maron would want to hear, the thing that would push him to take Frodo away with him.
“You love me?” Maron asked, stunned. “I thought I was but a warm bed to you.”
Frodo flushed, feeling bitterly ashamed of himself, but unable to stop. “You were…at first. But I’ve become very fond of you, and I wish that you would just take me away from here.”
“But aren’t you bound to Strider? Wouldn’t the lawmen come after us if you leave?”
Frodo closed his eyes, feeling weary at the thought. “If we get far enough away, these country folk won’t dare follow us. Come, Maron. You’re a warrior. Consider it an adventure. At the end of it, we won’t have to sneak to be together.”
Maron sank down on the bed. “I’m mighty tempted. You’re…I’ve never been with anyone like you before, as unnatural as some might call it. When I heard your Ranger was back, I felt some pain. I knew you were in love with him.”
“I’m not,” Frodo said, too harshly.
Maron shrugged as if he didn‘t quite believe Frodo. “Well, maybe, maybe not. It’s possibly the most foolish thing I’ve ever done, but I’ll do it. I’ll take you away if you want. It’s at a risk to us both, so I want you to be really sure of it.”
Frodo ran to Maron and flung his arms around him. “Thank you.” He kissed his cheek.
Maron grasped his shoulders and gently pushed him away. “I want you to leave me now. If you’re sure you want to leave with me, meet me at the south gate before sunrise.”
Frodo nodded.
“I won’t wait long,” Maron said. There was something in his eyes that said that he expected Frodo not to show up, but he was willing to pretend otherwise for the time.
Frodo left him then, his heart pattering. When he got home, Strider was sharpening and cleaning his weapons. Grease had pooled on the floor.
Well, I’ll never clean up after him again, he thought. His heart pained at the thought.
“Where have you been?” Strider asked.
“Talking to a friend,” Frodo said. He wondered how he could pack without appearing suspicious.
“You have made friends here?”
“Does this surprise you?” Frodo asked, flushing. No, he would not miss Strider’s surly nature, not one bit.
Strider shrugged. “So, any thought to finding yourself gainful employment again? Something that you can do, that is.”
“There is much that I can do,” Frodo said. “Perhaps washing the dirty undergarments of Bree’s men was not the best use of my talents.” Then he decided that he could be kind since he might never see Strider again. “It has been very kind of you to be patient with me.”
Strider chuckled grimly. “Kindness is not a factor. You are young, but you are no child that need be badgered every day. I would have thought you would have started looking again as soon as you were well.” He shrugged as if he found Frodo ridiculous in every way.
Frodo gritted his teeth and ignored him.
“Butterbur is concerned about you,” Strider added.
Frodo jumped a little. “Oh?” he answered casually. “And why should he be?”
“He says that you are too eager to talk to strangers, some of whom might have a shady past.”
“And what of it? And why is it your business?”
“For better or for worse, Frodo, you are my business now.”
Ha, Frodo thought to himself. Not for long. Not for long.
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Date: 2011-02-06 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-06-29 03:03 am (UTC)On another note, I really like this fanfic! I hope you continue I want to see what happens next!
Cheers to you! :)
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Date: 2012-06-29 02:22 pm (UTC)