Title: Enough
By: RavenWolf
Rated: PG-13
Pairing: F/?, F/S implied
Disclaimer: They are not mine. If anything, they own me.
Summary: Someone loves Frodo. And sometimes, it's enough.
A/N: This is my second fic in this fandom. I'm not sure if I like the way
it flows, or if it's too maudlin, but after going over it about ten times,
I figured, what the hell. I'll post it and see what you all think. (
He melts into the shadows, trying to avoid his pain. It doesn't work, of course, but it allows him to relax his guard, even if only for a second. It lets him show the pain and love on his face without worrying who might see. Frodo is too preoccupied with Sam to notice his absence from his side.
Sam, who will get all the attention that he never will. He tries so hard to accept it and let go, but he can't. He knows that he loves the Halfling, and it is hard to give up. He is a warrior, and it is in his nature to fight for the things that he wants and loves.
But this one time, that won't help him. He can't fight for Frodo, because Frodo isn't his. The shadows in the hobbit's eyes are overcome only by the love he feels for Sam. And if that eases his journey, than he cannot begrudge him that.
He only wishes to heal. To destroy the darkness that has descended on Frodo and taken away his life. His light. His happiness. He remembers the first time he saw the Halfling smile, and realizes that his smiles occur far too rarely. A smile is a beautiful expression on the face of Frodo Baggins.
Sometimes it's only the hope of seeing another one of those smiles that keeps him going from day to day. The memory of the happiness that shines in his eyes sometimes, and the warm feeling it gives him, like he is being blanketed by his love for Frodo. It's a good feeling, one that he wouldn't give up for much of anything. But sometimes he wonders if it's enough.
And sometimes, he dreams of Frodo. Whispers of caring that find their way to him as if by accident. But he can't tell if he's asleep, or if he's awake, when he feels his love's warm breath at his throat.
It's night, and the stars are out. They illuminate everything in a way that merely distorts it more. He can't tell if he's strayed into a dream, or if the world has merely changed whilst he slept.
"Frodo." he begins, but his breath is taken away by the halfling's soft lips.
"Don't speak." Warm, dry hands find their way across his face. He shivers. Frodo nibbles on his ear.
The line has blurred between reality and the dream world, and if this is a dream, then he wishes not to wake up. And if it isn't, well...
Tears begin to run down his face, crying for what he may or may not have. And simply for the beauty of the moment when Frodo's hands, small but masculine, trace their way down his chest and towards his breeches. Frodo kisses the tears away softly.
"Shhh. It's alright. I love you---"
It's enough.
He melts into the shadows, trying to avoid his pain. It doesn't work, of course, but it allows him to relax his guard, even if only for a second. It lets him show the pain and love on his face without worrying who might see. Frodo is too preoccupied with Sam to notice his absence from his side.
Sam, who will get all the attention that he never will. He tries so hard to accept it and let go, but he can't. He knows that he loves the Halfling, and it is hard to give up. He is a warrior, and it is in his nature to fight for the things that he wants and loves.
But this one time, that won't help him. He can't fight for Frodo, because Frodo isn't his. The shadows in the hobbit's eyes are overcome only by the love he feels for Sam. And if that eases his journey, than he cannot begrudge him that.
He only wishes to heal. To destroy the darkness that has descended on Frodo and taken away his life. His light. His happiness. He remembers the first time he saw the Halfling smile, and realizes that his smiles occur far too rarely. A smile is a beautiful expression on the face of Frodo Baggins.
Sometimes it's only the hope of seeing another one of those smiles that keeps him going from day to day. The memory of the happiness that shines in his eyes sometimes, and the warm feeling it gives him, like he is being blanketed by his love for Frodo. It's a good feeling, one that he wouldn't give up for much of anything. But sometimes he wonders if it's enough.
And sometimes, he dreams of Frodo. Whispers of caring that find their way to him as if by accident. But he can't tell if he's asleep, or if he's awake, when he feels his love's warm breath at his throat.
It's night, and the stars are out. They illuminate everything in a way that merely distorts it more. He can't tell if he's strayed into a dream, or if the world has merely changed whilst he slept.
"Frodo." he begins, but his breath is taken away by the halfling's soft lips.
"Don't speak." Warm, dry hands find their way across his face. He shivers. Frodo nibbles on his ear.
The line has blurred between reality and the dream world, and if this is a dream, then he wishes not to wake up. And if it isn't, well...
Tears begin to run down his face, crying for what he may or may not have. And simply for the beauty of the moment when Frodo's hands, small but masculine, trace their way down his chest and towards his breeches. Frodo kisses the tears away softly.
"Shhh. It's alright. I love you---"
It's enough.