Disclaimer: LOTR is not mine. If it were, Frodo and Sam would be together, as would Merry and Pippin, Boromir and Haldir would be alive, Arwen wouldn't be so wimpy, and Denethor would've died a LOOOOONG time before he did.
Jeez, it's been forever since I wrote LOTR. But I just felt the need to write this. It's been a possibility for a while, so I finally decided to go for it.
SAVE ME FROM MY SOLITUDE
Frodo was lying up in a tree, trying to sleep. Surprisingly enough, the trees in Lothlorien were quite comfortable, not unlike those back in the Shire. There was just something about being in a tree that made Frodo feel safe. A feeling he hadn't had for ages.
What he had seen last night in the Mirror of Galadriel was still haunting him. It made him regret taking on this Quest even more. To think that if he didn't succeed, his Sam would be captured- no, enslaved- along with the rest of the world! And that was something that he couldn't bear to think about. Not now, anyway.
The bushes beneath his tree rustled. Frodo opened his eyes, startled. He thought he was alone! Standing up, he stepped backwards in the tree, pushing himself as close to the branch as possible. He did not want to be seen.
Whoever or whatever it was that had come out of the bushes had either left or was on the other side of the tree. Hoping it was the first option, Frodo eased himself back into a sitting position, breathing a sigh of relief.
But where he was turned out not to be the best place to sit, as Frodo tilted towards the side, falling out of the tree. He panicked, his hand grabbing at the tree, but it was pointless. He cried out, and let himself go, landing…
Right in the arms of Aragorn. "Hello, Frodo," said the Ranger.
"Hello," Frodo replied, eyes wide. What was he doing here?
"Do you fall out of trees often?" Aragorn asked, one eyebrow raised.
"No, this would be the first time," Frodo muttered, blushing furiously. "Now if you would please put me down, I'd like to get out of here."
"Why do you want to be alone?" Aragorn was still not putting him on the ground.
"Because I just do, okay?" Frodo replied, somewhat heatedly. "Surely there are times in the day when you want to be alone, Aragorn?"
"Definitely. But you've been avoiding us for the past two days. What is it?" Now Frodo was on the ground, and Aragorn was on his knees, eye to eye with the Ringbearer.
Frodo looked away. "I don't want to talk about it." He started to walk away, but Aragorn grabbed him by the shoulder. The left shoulder no less. Instinctively, Frodo buckled at the touch, and gasped out, "Don't…touch…me."
Aragorn, realizing what he had done, took his hand off immediately. "Does it still hurt?"
"Only when you touch it." Frodo shivered. It suddenly seemed very cold to him.
"How does it look?" Aragorn snaked his hand around to the front of Frodo's shirt, but Frodo's hand grabbed his.
"I am not taking my shirt off for you!" Frodo stormed away, and, unfortunately, tripped on a tree root a few feet away. He tripped and landed on the ground, his face smashed into the earth. He moaned, as he rolled over and lay face up, arms and legs spread. Aragorn came running, and bent beside him, checking him for damage.
"Oh, perfect," Frodo muttered. He tried to push himself up, and drew back his hands with a hiss, falling back against the ground once more. His pale hands were bruised heavily, particularly around the tips of his fingers.
Aragorn was inspecting them for further damage, which was nonexistent. Taking Frodo's left hand in his, he looked at the fine lines that ran along the small palm. The hobbit's skin felt like silk. He ran one of his fingers along Frodo's palm slowly, taking in the softness and smoothness of it.
"What are you doing?" Frodo asked, trying to get his hand away, but Aragorn grabbed him by the wrist.
Aragorn was now looking at a tiny, faintly broken line on the hobbit's palm. "You're really stressed," he said softly.
"How can you tell?" Frodo inquired, staring at the same line as well.
"I can read palms," Aragorn replied. "See this line?" He traced his finger along the line they were looking at. "That's the stress line. The more stress you have, the more broken the line will be. As you can see, you're somewhat stressed out. And that's not good."
"Well, it's not like I can do anything to bring my stress levels down," Frodo replied, his knees drawn up to his chest.
The Ranger stood, walked around so he was behind Frodo, and then sat down, pulling the Ringbearer against his chest. "I can help," he whispered huskily, breathing on Frodo's neck. He began massaging the back of that spot with even, delicate strokes, making use of his healer's skills.
Frodo's eyes closed involuntarily, his breathing quickening, as Aragorn loosened his muscles up, swiftly becoming very relaxed. Nobody had ever touched him like this but Sam, and even he wasn't this good! He sighed, letting his hands relax and fall into his lap, unmoving.
Aragorn smiled, pleased with the way Frodo was reacting. He hated to see his friend suffering, and this was just what he needed. A chance to relax, some food, and a nice long sleep. Slowly, he moved down to Frodo's shoulder blades, working the muscles there as well. He continued to move down, until Frodo was completely and utterly relaxed, lying against his chest, eyes closed. Then, he lifted the hobbit into his arms, and walked under the tree that he had found Frodo in earlier, sitting there with Frodo in his arms and lap.
When they were positioned comfortably, he yawned. It was time that both of them had a nice long nap. He leaned down, and kissed Frodo on the forehead. The hobbit stirred, leaned in closer to the Ranger, and then lay quiet once again. Aragorn smiled, and closed his eyes as well, letting himself fall into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.
Solitude was long gone.
Some hours later, Aragorn awoke, and found himself sitting in the same position. His legs were tingling like they had a thousand ants crawling up and down along them, but at least he was feeling well-rested.
He gently shook Frodo by the shoulder, waking him. "Frodo, we should head back," he whispered.
Frodo's eyes opened slowly, their brilliant color growing brighter as they opened further. "Do you have the time?" he asked, sitting up and stretching.
"Sorry," Aragorn replied. "It's impossible to keep track of time in this place."
Frodo smiled. "No kidding." He planted his feet on the ground, and pushed himself up off of Aragorn. "Sam will worry if we don't head back now."
"Yes," Aragorn said. "He'll probably take my head for keeping you here so long." He laughed, and Frodo replied in kind, a high tinkling laugh like bells ringing.
"Thank you," Frodo said, still smiling at Aragorn.
"For what?" Aragorn inquired.
"You know what," Frodo replied, his smile becoming all the more secretive.
"Oh," Aragorn said, looking away as a slight reddish tinge touched his cheeks.
"Let's keep it a secret, okay?" Frodo stood beside Aragorn, an imposing expression on his face. "Sam worries about me enough as it is. I won't have him worry further."
"He only acts like that because he loves you, you know," Aragorn replied.
Frodo nodded, already knowing the depth of Sam's and his relationship. "Yes. Is it that obvious to you?"
"A little. It's just that he's always looking out for you." Aragorn smiled.
"I know." Frodo smiled in a somewhat melancholy way, but it was beautiful.
"Come. Let's return to our camp." Aragorn started and, taking Frodo by the hand, they walked back to their encampment within Lothlorien, with a joyful secret burdening their hearts.
Well, what do you think? It's not my best work, but I like it. Constructive criticism is welcome and flames will be used to keep my furnace alive. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!