Title: Of Back Rubs and Swamp Gas

Author: Lady Harvest (carryonkerion@hotmail.com)

Pairing: Pippin/Aragorn

Rating: G

Archive: Oh please, please do! Just lemme know.

Summary: Just a fluffy little piece of work. Pippin's

stiff, cold and hungry. Strider wants to help ^_^

Disclaimer: LOTR does not belong to me. It belongs to

Tolkien, and those spiffy movie people. But if only they'd

let me borrow Strider for a day...just one day... *dreamy

sigh*

Warning: None

Authors Note: This is set in the Midgewater Marshes, a

spiffy little scene on the Extended DVD. Just thought I'd

clarify.



~ Of Back Rubs and Swamp Gas ~



" You cant do this you know, its not right. " That was

Frodo's soft voice, and it sounded almost muffled by the

thick swamp air. Pippin just merely made a face, going back

to prowling through Strider's bags as quietly as he could.

" Pippin..." That was Frodo again. Pippin's eyes raised to

him, and he sighed, scampering away from the bag. " Fine,

fine. But I'm *hungry*. " There was a deep sigh in Pippin's

voice. It was a grievous thing to come between a hobbit and

his hunger. It just wasn't right. He curled up next to the

others, and watched Sam snuggle happily back into Frodo's

warmth. He wasn't worried about food, of course. He was

right giddy at having his "Mr. Frodo" close enough to lay

bodily with. But Pippin was happy for him. He knew he

himself was wishing for the comfort of someone, anyone...

and Merry was snoring away, snuggled to Sam's other side.

It was a hard thing, being the odd hobbit out.



As the moon rose full and pregnant with light over the

humid swamp, Pippin was roused from his light sleep by the

grumbling of his stomach. He rolled over, bringing his

knees to his chest in an effort to quell the diabolical

rumbles. But alas, this was the tummy of a hobbit, and it

didn't take well to missing supper. Sure, he'd had dinner,

but what about tea? Elevensies? Second breakfast for

Shire's sake! It was a hard thing to swallow. The thought

of swallowing sent another grumble through him, and he

stood, his mouth now grumbling in unison with his stomach.



" S' not fair...not fair at all, that Ranger is right

starving us! " He spoke in an indignified whisper to

himself. As quietly as he could, he crept over to the small

leather bag, his eyes darting up to watch the steady

movement of Strider's chest. If he just keep sleeping... "

Can I ask what you're doing, Master Took? " Pippin froze

guiltily, one tiny hand poised on the clasp of the leather

bag. Strider's voice was soft, and there was a vague sound

of amusement, floating in there somewhere. " I was...I was

just.. " He pursed his lips, bringing his hands together to

wring them in front of his small shirt. His lip pushed out

almost comically, his eyes filling with water. " I was

*hungry* ! " Pippin lowered his voice when he heard Merry

snort. Strider just watched him silently for a moment, his

head canted to a curious angle. " Do Hobbits only think of

their stomachs, even when followed with such danger? "



He didn't go into detail, trying not to scare the hobbit

too much. A healthy dose of fear was one thing, but

terrifying the poor lad just wasn't nessicary. Pippin's

gentle face took on an air of hurt, and Strider instantly

regretted his somewhat sharp tone. These poor little

creatures had the biggest hearts he had ever seen, and he

found himself regularly treading on proverbial toes, when

it came to their feelings. The hurt on Pippin's face seemed

to swell for a moment, and much to Strider's surprise, it

swerved quickly into anger. " Well, I wouldn't have to go

snoopin' through your things at night if you'd just let us

eat, right proper! " Strider only blinked for a long

moment, before a subdued smile touched his lips.



" Anger becomes you, Master Took. " His voice lowered a

notch, almost as if to make up for Pippin's raised tone.

Pippin faltered, and looked over at the Ranger, his eyes

full of bewilderment. The very thought of this man, this

Ranger flirting with him, was a concept just a little too

quick for the naive hobbit's mind. " Wh...What do you

mean?? " All traces of anger were gone from his smooth

little face. He was lost somewhere between innocent

confusion, and indignation. He wasn't quite sure how to

take the smile that Strider wasn't trying very hard to

hide.



" Nothing more than I said, little one. " His laid his

hands out, palms up in front of him in a placating gesture.

" You hobbits are such curious little creatures... "

Strider's voice took on a misty edge, like he was talking

more to himself, than to Pippin. " Able to wear any emotion

openly on such smooth...faces. " He'd had to stop himself.

The word beautiful had been dangerously close to leaving

his mouth. And as much as he enjoyed watching the emotions

fly across Pippin's sweet face, he wasn't sure if Pippin

was ready for such open honesty. Or if he, himself was, for

that matter.



Pippin watched the man, that look of bewilderment fading,

but slowly. He wasn't...he could of been...was

he...flirting? Pippin wasn't quite sure how to handle that

thought. Sure, he'd instantly been taken with the dashing

Ranger, but who wouldn't have been? It fascinated him to

watch someone with so much strength, speak with such a

gentle manner. A manner that Pippin believed, was natural

to Strider. He pulled his lower lip into his mouth,

worrying on it methodically with his teeth. He needed time,

a moment to collect himself, and decide what he should say

in return. But luckily, Strider seemed apt to wait.



After what seemed like hours, but what couldn't have been

more than a minute of two, the hobbit spoke. " You're

attractive, Strider. " He spoke with certainty, nodding his

head a bit to emphasize his point. Strider however,

couldn't bite back his amused chuckle. " Well, its quite

pleasing to hear that from you, Pippin. " At the moment,

the hobbit decided that he *really* liked the sound of his

name from those full, rosebud lips. He took a hesitant step

forward, and then another, until he was standing even with

the man's shoulder. He raised his face to the night sky,

his eyes dropping closed. " Say it again? " It was barely

more than a whisper in the air, and it took Strider a

moment to fully decipher the sultry request. He was too

busy being taken aback by the huskyness that had suddenly

invaded the young hobbit's voice. " Pippin. " If the sweet

huskyness of Pippin's voice wasn't enough, his own voice

cracked in a very un-manly fashion.



" Thats nice. I like it. " There was more, but suddenly

Pippin was silenced by the warm, heavy hand on his back. He

stood stock still for a moment, not even realizing he was

holding his breath. Then Strider's fingers started moving

across the smooth expanse of his shirt, his calluses

causing pleasing little ripples of electricity down his

spine. " Could you...a little lower? " Strider's breath

hitched in his throat, and after a moment, he cursed

himself mentally. The young one wasn't asking for *that*,

he simply wanted his back rub just a little further down.

So he lowered his hand inch by inch, still smoothing and

massaging, until he heard the tell tale " aah" . "

There...thats nice...I like it.."



The little hobbits face was still raised to the sky and he

was rocking backwards into the touch just slightly. All the

tenseness from sleeping on the ground, was fading slowly

out of his body. Strider's hand was warm, and with it

brought the security that Pippin had been seeking,

subliminally, if nothing else. It wasn't exactly torture to

the ranger either. Pippin's tiny body was smooth, and sweet

in a way that almost felt guilty. It reminded him of a doll

that his mother owned, when he was a child. It was the most

beautiful creature Strider had laid his eyes on, and

because of that very fact, he was terrified to touch it. It

had smooth, milky skin, and bright blue eyes. And he just

knew the moment his clumsy, young hands laid upon it, that

its stillness, and serenity would be broken.



" Strider? " Pippin was looking over his shoulder at the

ranger, a curled strand falling almost completely into his

eyes. The reassuring smile of the hobbit brought Strider

back out of his trance. Pippin wasn't a doll, and wouldn't

break, and Strider was no longer a gangly boy. His hands

had seen many wars, but they still knew the gentleness

women, and creatures such as hobbits, craved. Strider

reached out, almost without thought, and gently swiped the

curl away from Pippin's eyes. He didn't want anything to

obscure his view. " Does that make it my turn? " Pippin

asked eagerly. Strider wanted to kick himself at the moment

of hot glee that passed through him. It'd been too long

since he'd last had a lover, too long... " Your turn? " He

had one eyebrow raised, watching as the little one hopped

up on the rock behind him.



" My mum, I used to give her rubs all the time...only,

those were her feet, but there's not much difference. "

Pippin spoke with an easy confidence, as his small hands

began to work over the taut muscles of Strider's shoulders.

He wouldn't be able to give them the good hard squeeze they

needed to ease the knots, but the feeling was plenty

soothing. Little hobbit hands moved over his muscles in a

magical fashion, relieving aches he didn't know he had. "

Mm...you're doing wonderfully, Master Took. " Pippin took a

heady little thrill over the fact that Strider's head was

tipped back slightly, and his eyes were closed. He knew

there was no way the man was faking the cat-like look of

pleasure on his rugged features.



" Pippin. " Strider nodded, a small smile creeping up on

his lips as he spoke the word in return. "Pippin. "



~ End ~