Better Tonics


Frodo slid cool arms around Sam's neck, laying his head on the broad chest. "Oh... Sam," he whispered, even as arms bowed around his waist.

"You're not feeling better?" Samwise flushed with warmth, holding gently onto the ill hobbit.

Frodo, medicated thoroughly, only sighed noncommittally and drew himself further into Sam's big warmness. "I don't know."

"Do you..." he rested his chin on Frodo's curls, "want more tonic?"

Frodo listened to the younger's heartbeat affectionately, lulled between its rhythm and the fire, "I just want you, Sam."

"Oh..."

"So don't you let go of me, Samwise Gamgee," Frodo mumbled, drifting.

Sam smiled, "Of course."