(no subject)
This has been such fun to write. This story was born of a joke comment made to the wonderful Claudia. Thank you all for all your comments which kept the momentum going. I hope this last part meets with your approval.
Lots of warnings, slash, AU.
Three years later.
Aragorn was returning to Rivendell after two months of patrols around the borders of the Shire. As usual his horse sensed when they were reaching the elf kingdom and no matter how long had been their ride she pricked up her ears and stepped out at a livelier pace. Aragorn smiled. He too was eager to be home.
They crossed the bridge and the dwellings of the last homely house were spread out before them, the music of waterfalls and elven voices reached them.
Aragorn called out greetings to friends as he past but he did not pause for conversation. Laughter and jokes were called out to him but he only laughed back.
“We know why you are in such a hurry,” called out one merry voice.
“And envy you,” laughed another.
At the stables Aragorn was met by Figwit who took the mare with an indulgent smile and sent the Ranger on his way. As was his new custom Aragorn had bathed in a stream that morning and changed into a tunic of silver grey so he made his way straight down a familiar path which lead into the heart of Rivendell, and the place which was also the heart of the man.
Laughing voices again greeted him, but these were of a higher pitch. He came round a passageway which opened out onto a small rose garden. A small figure, wrapped in a grey shawl sat on a cushioned bench, grey haired head nodding as he laughed at the antics of two other figures who were chasing each other around a fountain.
“Good afternoon Bilbo,” Aragorn greeted the hobbit.
“My dear friend,” Bilbo clapped his hands in delight. “And right on time too. I have a new poem I am reading in the hall of fire tonight and you can give your opinion on it.”
“Gladly my friend.”
“Estel!” Aragorn heard the glad cry and was able to brace himself in time as the two other hobbits, both dressed in shimmering blue silk and both with long, wild dark curls and sparkling blue eyes, raced to his side and flung themselves into his arms.
“You came back for my birthday!” cried the little girl child hobbit as she attempted to scale up his side. Catching her up Aragorn swung Primula above his head until her shrieks of pleasure near split his ears. “I knew you would. Did you bring me a pony?”
“You must wait for tomorrow until you have your present,” Aragorn promised, “For now I am very hungry and need you to run to the kitchens for me and see if there is anything to eat.”
Primula grabbed Bilbo’s hand and hauled him from the bench. “Come on Uncle Bilbo. Let’s see if there are any mushrooms left.”
As the two figures made their way out of the garden, Primula dancing around her Uncle Bilbo, Aragorn turned to the third hobbit.
“Frodo!”
“Estel!”
They were in each others arms in a moment.
“Oh I missed you so much this time,” Frodo gasped as the breath was squeezed from his body. His small hands reached to trace the man’s face. “I love you so.”
“As I missed you, and love you too, my most precious of hobbits,” Aragorn reluctantly pulled away so he could look at Frodo. “You look well, and beautiful.”
“I am well, now you are back with me,” Frodo laughed and moved back into the man’s embrace. They looked into each others eyes for a moment before their lips came together in a kiss which stole both their breaths. Aragorn pulled Frodo until the hobbit was standing between the mans legs and he could feel the hardening length of the hobbits eager erection against his stomach.
Aragorn groaned. “I need you so, my beloved one.”
For moments they were frozen to the spot as they held each other and kissed with desperate passion. Aragorn opened his mouth and welcomed in the hobbit’s tongue, running his hands all over Frodo’s body until the hobbit was shaking.
“Will Primie mind if I am not here when she gets back with food?” Aragorn asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“Bilbo is a very wise hobbit,” Frodo replied between kisses. “He will keep her occupied for a while.”
Aragorn stood, still holding Frodo in his arms. “Then come, my delectable hobbit, for I desire you more than the greatest elven feast. I am going to strip your clothes from you and kiss you all over, and make love to you until we both starve to death.”
Frodo laughed. “Oh dear,” he said, “And I rather fancied a plate of mushrooms.”
The end
Lots of warnings, slash, AU.
Three years later.
Aragorn was returning to Rivendell after two months of patrols around the borders of the Shire. As usual his horse sensed when they were reaching the elf kingdom and no matter how long had been their ride she pricked up her ears and stepped out at a livelier pace. Aragorn smiled. He too was eager to be home.
They crossed the bridge and the dwellings of the last homely house were spread out before them, the music of waterfalls and elven voices reached them.
Aragorn called out greetings to friends as he past but he did not pause for conversation. Laughter and jokes were called out to him but he only laughed back.
“We know why you are in such a hurry,” called out one merry voice.
“And envy you,” laughed another.
At the stables Aragorn was met by Figwit who took the mare with an indulgent smile and sent the Ranger on his way. As was his new custom Aragorn had bathed in a stream that morning and changed into a tunic of silver grey so he made his way straight down a familiar path which lead into the heart of Rivendell, and the place which was also the heart of the man.
Laughing voices again greeted him, but these were of a higher pitch. He came round a passageway which opened out onto a small rose garden. A small figure, wrapped in a grey shawl sat on a cushioned bench, grey haired head nodding as he laughed at the antics of two other figures who were chasing each other around a fountain.
“Good afternoon Bilbo,” Aragorn greeted the hobbit.
“My dear friend,” Bilbo clapped his hands in delight. “And right on time too. I have a new poem I am reading in the hall of fire tonight and you can give your opinion on it.”
“Gladly my friend.”
“Estel!” Aragorn heard the glad cry and was able to brace himself in time as the two other hobbits, both dressed in shimmering blue silk and both with long, wild dark curls and sparkling blue eyes, raced to his side and flung themselves into his arms.
“You came back for my birthday!” cried the little girl child hobbit as she attempted to scale up his side. Catching her up Aragorn swung Primula above his head until her shrieks of pleasure near split his ears. “I knew you would. Did you bring me a pony?”
“You must wait for tomorrow until you have your present,” Aragorn promised, “For now I am very hungry and need you to run to the kitchens for me and see if there is anything to eat.”
Primula grabbed Bilbo’s hand and hauled him from the bench. “Come on Uncle Bilbo. Let’s see if there are any mushrooms left.”
As the two figures made their way out of the garden, Primula dancing around her Uncle Bilbo, Aragorn turned to the third hobbit.
“Frodo!”
“Estel!”
They were in each others arms in a moment.
“Oh I missed you so much this time,” Frodo gasped as the breath was squeezed from his body. His small hands reached to trace the man’s face. “I love you so.”
“As I missed you, and love you too, my most precious of hobbits,” Aragorn reluctantly pulled away so he could look at Frodo. “You look well, and beautiful.”
“I am well, now you are back with me,” Frodo laughed and moved back into the man’s embrace. They looked into each others eyes for a moment before their lips came together in a kiss which stole both their breaths. Aragorn pulled Frodo until the hobbit was standing between the mans legs and he could feel the hardening length of the hobbits eager erection against his stomach.
Aragorn groaned. “I need you so, my beloved one.”
For moments they were frozen to the spot as they held each other and kissed with desperate passion. Aragorn opened his mouth and welcomed in the hobbit’s tongue, running his hands all over Frodo’s body until the hobbit was shaking.
“Will Primie mind if I am not here when she gets back with food?” Aragorn asked, his voice a little hoarse.
“Bilbo is a very wise hobbit,” Frodo replied between kisses. “He will keep her occupied for a while.”
Aragorn stood, still holding Frodo in his arms. “Then come, my delectable hobbit, for I desire you more than the greatest elven feast. I am going to strip your clothes from you and kiss you all over, and make love to you until we both starve to death.”
Frodo laughed. “Oh dear,” he said, “And I rather fancied a plate of mushrooms.”
The end