Claudia's drabble request: "Poetic Justice" PG-13 Frodo/Aragorn mpreg
Okay... *grin* I did this for Claudia as an almost-end-of-the-school-year gift. She requested Frodo in jail in Bree, and Aragorn angry over the way his love was mistreated. It was supposed to be just a drabble, but... *giggles* The first person to figure out which passage in the story inspired the title will win a drabble with pairing and scenario of their choice. Who knows, perhaps that one will actually be a drabble.
Oh, and one more thing: read the warnings. This might not be everybody's cuppa.
"Poetic Justice"
by BUNNY!
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, and...as much as I hate to spoil it...mpreg
Disclaimer: LOTR not mine. No money. More's the pity.
Summary: Frodo is jailed in Bree.
Beta: none.
Feedback: Please! tougakiryuugroupie@yahoo.com
Archive: If you wanna.
Author's note: Per Claudia's request. Hope it doesn't disappoint, honey!
"Poetic Justice"
Frodo was tired. And hungry. His stomach twisted with nausea from the stink of the jail. It reeked of old filth and mold. The air was hard to breathe. He’d asked for a chamber pot, but the guards, who were ill-natured and cruel, had laughed and told him to pick a corner.
He was separate from the others, so he didn’t have to worry about some Man molesting him. Oh, he’d heard the stories of what happened to Halflings who were so unfortunate as to land themselves in this horrid jail.
He stroked his stomach wistfully, comforting the baby he couldn’t yet feel. All he’d done was fall in love with Aragorn. Was that a reason to be locked up? Frodo didn’t think so.
This adventure had been so different from what he’d hoped for. Bree was a cruel place, where wickedness was rewarded, and the good put away.
Frodo had spurned a Man’s advances at the Prancing Pony a few days earlier. He and Aragorn had only gone there to meet a friend. Aragorn had stepped out for a moment, and that was when the unknown Man had approached him from the crowd and made his offer. He’d thought Frodo a common whore. After setting him down quite firmly for assuming such a thing of a gentlehobbit, Frodo had taken Aragorn’s hand as he came in the door, and requested that they leave.
When he’d learned what had happened, the Ranger had been angry. Frodo could hardly keep him from returning to the Pony and tracking down that Man. He did the first thing he could think of, and told him of the through tongue-lashing the brute had received. Lobelia couldn’t have done better. That had made Aragorn roll on the floor with laughter, and the cloud passed. Nothing had come of it for a couple of days.
Then the sheriff had come to the house early one morning. Aragorn hadn’t been there. Apparently there was a law, rarely enforced, that stated those of the same sex could not take up together. Such things were rampant in Bree, but his joining with Aragorn was rooted in love. The whores in the inns and streets only cared for the money. That was the defining point, and the one that had him in trouble. Sex for money was acceptable, but to be together for love…unthinkable. And so they had taken Frodo from his home and locked him in this jail.
He knew Aragorn would find him. It was only a matter of time.
A commotion came from down the hall. It sounded like a fight. The Hobbit wasn’t much interested at first, for fights were common things in this place, until he heard a voice that he knew as well as his own.
“Tell me where he is! I know you have taken him!” Aragorn’s voice was an enraged roar. A smirk crossed Frodo’s mouth, even as his heart swelled with love and relief. He felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that his captors, who had bullied and starved him so, now faced a Ranger’s wrath. Near helpless to them he might have been, but they were helpless to defend themselves now. How did they like it, he wondered.
Footsteps drew closer, and he saw Aragorn’s face in the small barred window. “Frodo! I will get you out. Keep away from the door.” His face disappeared. There was a sound of scuffling, and a pained cry.
“Aragorn!” Frodo called out, running to the door and wishing he could see out the window, half-afraid that a guard had hurt his rescuer.
“I’m fine, Frodo. Stand away,” the Man called. Frodo did as he was told, and Aragorn broke the door open. It wasn’t a particularly strong door, having been made with the intention of holding Hobbits inside. A Hobbit wasn’t strong enough to have broken it down, but a Man could.
He was in Aragorn’s arms within seconds, breathing in the warm scent of the Man’s skin. He fought back tears of relief, now that this ordeal was finally over. Not once had he shed even a single tear in all these long days, refusing to shame himself in front of the cruel guards.
Aragorn kissed him, covering his face and cheeks with kisses. Frodo went limp in his arms for a moment, relishing the safety he found there, then pulled away. They had to get out, run as far away from this twisted place as possible.
“Aragorn, let’s go. I want to leave Bree,” the Hobbit said.
“We will go anywhere you wish to, Frodo.” Aragorn’s hand was warm in his.
“Good,” he said. His free hand rested across his flat stomach. When they got to their new home, he would have something to tell the Man he loved.
As they left, Frodo did not spare a glance back for the cell that had been his living nightmare for the last several days. His face and mind looked to the future, and all the joy that was to come their way.
End.
Oh, and one more thing: read the warnings. This might not be everybody's cuppa.
"Poetic Justice"
by BUNNY!
Part: 1/1
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: angst, and...as much as I hate to spoil it...mpreg
Disclaimer: LOTR not mine. No money. More's the pity.
Summary: Frodo is jailed in Bree.
Beta: none.
Feedback: Please! tougakiryuugroupie@yahoo.com
Archive: If you wanna.
Author's note: Per Claudia's request. Hope it doesn't disappoint, honey!
"Poetic Justice"
Frodo was tired. And hungry. His stomach twisted with nausea from the stink of the jail. It reeked of old filth and mold. The air was hard to breathe. He’d asked for a chamber pot, but the guards, who were ill-natured and cruel, had laughed and told him to pick a corner.
He was separate from the others, so he didn’t have to worry about some Man molesting him. Oh, he’d heard the stories of what happened to Halflings who were so unfortunate as to land themselves in this horrid jail.
He stroked his stomach wistfully, comforting the baby he couldn’t yet feel. All he’d done was fall in love with Aragorn. Was that a reason to be locked up? Frodo didn’t think so.
This adventure had been so different from what he’d hoped for. Bree was a cruel place, where wickedness was rewarded, and the good put away.
Frodo had spurned a Man’s advances at the Prancing Pony a few days earlier. He and Aragorn had only gone there to meet a friend. Aragorn had stepped out for a moment, and that was when the unknown Man had approached him from the crowd and made his offer. He’d thought Frodo a common whore. After setting him down quite firmly for assuming such a thing of a gentlehobbit, Frodo had taken Aragorn’s hand as he came in the door, and requested that they leave.
When he’d learned what had happened, the Ranger had been angry. Frodo could hardly keep him from returning to the Pony and tracking down that Man. He did the first thing he could think of, and told him of the through tongue-lashing the brute had received. Lobelia couldn’t have done better. That had made Aragorn roll on the floor with laughter, and the cloud passed. Nothing had come of it for a couple of days.
Then the sheriff had come to the house early one morning. Aragorn hadn’t been there. Apparently there was a law, rarely enforced, that stated those of the same sex could not take up together. Such things were rampant in Bree, but his joining with Aragorn was rooted in love. The whores in the inns and streets only cared for the money. That was the defining point, and the one that had him in trouble. Sex for money was acceptable, but to be together for love…unthinkable. And so they had taken Frodo from his home and locked him in this jail.
He knew Aragorn would find him. It was only a matter of time.
A commotion came from down the hall. It sounded like a fight. The Hobbit wasn’t much interested at first, for fights were common things in this place, until he heard a voice that he knew as well as his own.
“Tell me where he is! I know you have taken him!” Aragorn’s voice was an enraged roar. A smirk crossed Frodo’s mouth, even as his heart swelled with love and relief. He felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that his captors, who had bullied and starved him so, now faced a Ranger’s wrath. Near helpless to them he might have been, but they were helpless to defend themselves now. How did they like it, he wondered.
Footsteps drew closer, and he saw Aragorn’s face in the small barred window. “Frodo! I will get you out. Keep away from the door.” His face disappeared. There was a sound of scuffling, and a pained cry.
“Aragorn!” Frodo called out, running to the door and wishing he could see out the window, half-afraid that a guard had hurt his rescuer.
“I’m fine, Frodo. Stand away,” the Man called. Frodo did as he was told, and Aragorn broke the door open. It wasn’t a particularly strong door, having been made with the intention of holding Hobbits inside. A Hobbit wasn’t strong enough to have broken it down, but a Man could.
He was in Aragorn’s arms within seconds, breathing in the warm scent of the Man’s skin. He fought back tears of relief, now that this ordeal was finally over. Not once had he shed even a single tear in all these long days, refusing to shame himself in front of the cruel guards.
Aragorn kissed him, covering his face and cheeks with kisses. Frodo went limp in his arms for a moment, relishing the safety he found there, then pulled away. They had to get out, run as far away from this twisted place as possible.
“Aragorn, let’s go. I want to leave Bree,” the Hobbit said.
“We will go anywhere you wish to, Frodo.” Aragorn’s hand was warm in his.
“Good,” he said. His free hand rested across his flat stomach. When they got to their new home, he would have something to tell the Man he loved.
As they left, Frodo did not spare a glance back for the cell that had been his living nightmare for the last several days. His face and mind looked to the future, and all the joy that was to come their way.
End.