One Brave Hobbit (part 3)
Okay...this picks up almost directly where part 2 left off. And I know it's slow going, but there will soon be other characters introduce into the mix, to really help care for Frodo. So if you're reading, stay tuned. And if you're not...why not?? :)
~*~
Title: One Brave Hobbit
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: F/A
Rating: PG-13 for most of it, though I’d take the first two parts up to an R for a small part of the content
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, MPREG
Summary: All it takes is one brave Hobbit
Warnings: MPREG, non-con in one small bit early on, though not explicit
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place pre-Fellowship, while the Hobbits are still back in the Shire.
Author Note: Thanks to Caly for reading this through.
~*~
Title: One Brave Hobbit
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: no pairing…just a FrodoFic
Rating: PG-13 for most of it, though I’d take the first two parts up to an R for a small part of the content
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, MPREG
Summary: All it takes is one brave Hobbit
Warnings: MPREG, non-con in one small bit early on, though not explicit
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place pre-Fellowship, while the Hobbits are still back in the Shire.
Author Note: Thanks to Caly for reading this through.
~Part 3~
When second breakfast was ready and Frodo still had not appeared, Sam went in search of him. Instead of finding him sitting at his writing desk, as he often was in the early mornings, or curled up with a book in his chair, he found Frodo in bed. The covers were pulled up around him so that only his dark hair stuck out above them.
Worry prickled Sam’s brain, but he pushed the feeling away. Frodo was just out of sorts lately; Bilbo’s leaving had hit him hard and he needed time to get used to life without him. That was all.
Having satisfied himself that Frodo would be fine given a little time, Sam turned to leave the room. A groan that could not be mistaken for anything other than stark pain had him turned back around and at Frodo’s side in an instant.
“Mr. Frodo? Are you awake?” Sam leaned down, peering at Frodo’s curls, which were all he could see around the blankets.
Frodo shifted at the sound of Sam’s voice so close to him and the movement brought forth another whimper. Everywhere the bedding touched caused him pain; what had happened? At the thought, Frodo’s mind was instantly assailed with memories of the night before: hands, faces, leers, hurt. Frodo moaned loudly, wanting the images out of his mind.
Sam’s heart clenched at the noises coming from the bed. He should have listened to his conscience earlier when it begged him to check on his master; something serious was wrong.
“I know that sound, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. His hand was poised to pull the covering away from Frodo’s face so he could get a proper look at the other Hobbit. “That’s the sound you make whenever you’re upset or have eaten too many strawberries from Mr. Dusty’s vines.”
Sam waited, but Frodo didn’t respond. He only clenched the blankets more tightly around himself.
“So…” Sam continued, hand still at the ready to expose the stubborn Hobbit. “I figure either yer sad or yer sick. And whichever it is, yer Sam’s not gonna let you suffer.”
Slowly, he moved the bed covering, having to fight Frodo’s grip on it to get it down a decent enough ways to see anything. And what he saw made Sam gasp in horror.
“Who did this to you?” Sam demanded furiously, his hands on his hips. “I’ll have him, I will!”
The anger in Sam’s usually soft voice startled Frodo and he forced his good eye open. “No…one…” he said, the words coming out in a whisper.
Sam stared at Frodo’s eye, puffed and purple, closed to a mere slit. Someone had hit him, and there was no mistaking it.
Frodo shivered under Sam’s hard look. “It was…no…one.” He took as deep of a breath as he was able. “I…fell…”
Sam made a rather rude noise of disbelief, then quickly covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t believe you. No one could look like that from takin’ a tumble.”
For several seconds, Frodo concentrated on breathing; if he continued to pant as he was, he knew he would be sick again. “I fell…from a tree, Sam…” he managed at last.
“What was you doin’ in a tree, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked before he could give the validity of Frodo’s claim much consideration.
Frodo’s mind raced. He hated the thought of lying to Sam but there was no way he could tell him the awful truth. “Reading.”
“You were readin’ in a tree?”
Sam’s expression was almost comical and Frodo might have laughed if everything hadn’t ached so badly.
“There were…some lovely…peaches up there, and…” Frodo didn’t need to catch his breath to continue because Sam was already talking.
“Ah…you and your lovely fruit, Mr. Frodo. You’re as bad as Pippin in gettin’ what you want sometimes, that’s for sure…”
Inwardly, Frodo sighed. Sam had apparently accepted his excuse as the truth…at least for now. That was a relief.
Suddenly Sam seemed to come back to himself. “Oh, Mr. Frodo! If you fell out of a tree, then surely your eye isn’t the only thing hurtin’. Your back? Your stomach? What else did ya bruise?”
Sam’s voice grew more and more panicky. “Are ya bleedin’? Does yer head hurt? Should I fetch Doc Grapevine?”
Finding the attention back on him, Frodo cringed. His body *was* a collection of bruises, but Sam could not be allowed to see. And a doctor…that was absolutely out of the question. He put on the most serene face he could conjure up.
“I’m okay, Sam…really. Just…tired. Don’t need…a doctor. Just…some…sleep.” As he spoke, Frodo could feel himself beginning to drift off.
Sam bit his lip. “Okay, if you say so.” He stood straight and tall. “But I’m gonna be checkin’ on ya, and if I even *think* ya need the doc, I’m fetchin’ him. Hear me?”
Frodo almost did giggle then. His Sam, giving him the what for…it was almost too unreal. But, then, after everything he’d lived through in the last hours, Frodo found he could believe almost anything. “Yes, dear Sam. I…hear you. Thank you…” He let his eyes close.
Sighing, Sam pulled the covers back up around his master’s shoulders. “You just rest, Mr. Frodo. And when you wake up again I’ll have a nice sausage sandwich and some cabbage soup for you. Oh, and some of that mint tea you fancy. And maybe a nice slice of peach pie…”
When it was obvious that Frodo had fallen asleep again, Sam made his way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
~*~
~*~
Title: One Brave Hobbit
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: F/A
Rating: PG-13 for most of it, though I’d take the first two parts up to an R for a small part of the content
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, MPREG
Summary: All it takes is one brave Hobbit
Warnings: MPREG, non-con in one small bit early on, though not explicit
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place pre-Fellowship, while the Hobbits are still back in the Shire.
Author Note: Thanks to Caly for reading this through.
~*~
Title: One Brave Hobbit
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: no pairing…just a FrodoFic
Rating: PG-13 for most of it, though I’d take the first two parts up to an R for a small part of the content
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, MPREG
Summary: All it takes is one brave Hobbit
Warnings: MPREG, non-con in one small bit early on, though not explicit
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place pre-Fellowship, while the Hobbits are still back in the Shire.
Author Note: Thanks to Caly for reading this through.
~Part 3~
When second breakfast was ready and Frodo still had not appeared, Sam went in search of him. Instead of finding him sitting at his writing desk, as he often was in the early mornings, or curled up with a book in his chair, he found Frodo in bed. The covers were pulled up around him so that only his dark hair stuck out above them.
Worry prickled Sam’s brain, but he pushed the feeling away. Frodo was just out of sorts lately; Bilbo’s leaving had hit him hard and he needed time to get used to life without him. That was all.
Having satisfied himself that Frodo would be fine given a little time, Sam turned to leave the room. A groan that could not be mistaken for anything other than stark pain had him turned back around and at Frodo’s side in an instant.
“Mr. Frodo? Are you awake?” Sam leaned down, peering at Frodo’s curls, which were all he could see around the blankets.
Frodo shifted at the sound of Sam’s voice so close to him and the movement brought forth another whimper. Everywhere the bedding touched caused him pain; what had happened? At the thought, Frodo’s mind was instantly assailed with memories of the night before: hands, faces, leers, hurt. Frodo moaned loudly, wanting the images out of his mind.
Sam’s heart clenched at the noises coming from the bed. He should have listened to his conscience earlier when it begged him to check on his master; something serious was wrong.
“I know that sound, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said. His hand was poised to pull the covering away from Frodo’s face so he could get a proper look at the other Hobbit. “That’s the sound you make whenever you’re upset or have eaten too many strawberries from Mr. Dusty’s vines.”
Sam waited, but Frodo didn’t respond. He only clenched the blankets more tightly around himself.
“So…” Sam continued, hand still at the ready to expose the stubborn Hobbit. “I figure either yer sad or yer sick. And whichever it is, yer Sam’s not gonna let you suffer.”
Slowly, he moved the bed covering, having to fight Frodo’s grip on it to get it down a decent enough ways to see anything. And what he saw made Sam gasp in horror.
“Who did this to you?” Sam demanded furiously, his hands on his hips. “I’ll have him, I will!”
The anger in Sam’s usually soft voice startled Frodo and he forced his good eye open. “No…one…” he said, the words coming out in a whisper.
Sam stared at Frodo’s eye, puffed and purple, closed to a mere slit. Someone had hit him, and there was no mistaking it.
Frodo shivered under Sam’s hard look. “It was…no…one.” He took as deep of a breath as he was able. “I…fell…”
Sam made a rather rude noise of disbelief, then quickly covered his mouth. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t believe you. No one could look like that from takin’ a tumble.”
For several seconds, Frodo concentrated on breathing; if he continued to pant as he was, he knew he would be sick again. “I fell…from a tree, Sam…” he managed at last.
“What was you doin’ in a tree, Mr. Frodo?” Sam asked before he could give the validity of Frodo’s claim much consideration.
Frodo’s mind raced. He hated the thought of lying to Sam but there was no way he could tell him the awful truth. “Reading.”
“You were readin’ in a tree?”
Sam’s expression was almost comical and Frodo might have laughed if everything hadn’t ached so badly.
“There were…some lovely…peaches up there, and…” Frodo didn’t need to catch his breath to continue because Sam was already talking.
“Ah…you and your lovely fruit, Mr. Frodo. You’re as bad as Pippin in gettin’ what you want sometimes, that’s for sure…”
Inwardly, Frodo sighed. Sam had apparently accepted his excuse as the truth…at least for now. That was a relief.
Suddenly Sam seemed to come back to himself. “Oh, Mr. Frodo! If you fell out of a tree, then surely your eye isn’t the only thing hurtin’. Your back? Your stomach? What else did ya bruise?”
Sam’s voice grew more and more panicky. “Are ya bleedin’? Does yer head hurt? Should I fetch Doc Grapevine?”
Finding the attention back on him, Frodo cringed. His body *was* a collection of bruises, but Sam could not be allowed to see. And a doctor…that was absolutely out of the question. He put on the most serene face he could conjure up.
“I’m okay, Sam…really. Just…tired. Don’t need…a doctor. Just…some…sleep.” As he spoke, Frodo could feel himself beginning to drift off.
Sam bit his lip. “Okay, if you say so.” He stood straight and tall. “But I’m gonna be checkin’ on ya, and if I even *think* ya need the doc, I’m fetchin’ him. Hear me?”
Frodo almost did giggle then. His Sam, giving him the what for…it was almost too unreal. But, then, after everything he’d lived through in the last hours, Frodo found he could believe almost anything. “Yes, dear Sam. I…hear you. Thank you…” He let his eyes close.
Sighing, Sam pulled the covers back up around his master’s shoulders. “You just rest, Mr. Frodo. And when you wake up again I’ll have a nice sausage sandwich and some cabbage soup for you. Oh, and some of that mint tea you fancy. And maybe a nice slice of peach pie…”
When it was obvious that Frodo had fallen asleep again, Sam made his way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.
~*~