The Language of Kisses by Marauder

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Warning: This is slash. All flames will be used to cook Sam's taters.

Chapter One: Dreams and Discussions

He was naked, naked in the dark, and a cold wind was sweeping around him. A horrible feeling of loneliness and hopelessness had settled on him, and he despaired of it ever lifting. A desolate scream filled his lungs and burst out of his mouth. The darkness was unpierced by even the smallest ray of light. He could not even see a glimmer of the golden ring. "Sam!" he cried, tears springing from his eyes. "Sam!"

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"He's calling for him again," said Pippin, his eyes large with worry. "Do you think we ought to wake Sam up? He'd be angry to know that Frodo was calling for him and no one told him."

"That's why no one's going to tell him," Merry retorted. "Have mercy on the poor lad, for pity's sake. He hasn't gotten any sleep for almost two days straight."

Indeed, it was true. Sam had been next to Frodo's bedside ever since he was brought to Rivendell, moving only to get out of the way of the elves. Both Bilbo and Gandalf had pleaded with him to go and get some sleep, but he had stubbornly refused. "I won't do him no good asleep in bed," he'd said. It had only been in the last hour that Sam had finally collapsed from exhaustion.

There was a small noise at the door. The two hobbits turned to find Elrond standing there with a bowl of soup in his hand. "He has not woken yet, I see."

"No, he hasn't," said Pippin sadly. "Elrond, you don't suppose he'll – "

"I do not know if he will die," said Elrond, saying the words so that Pippin wouldn't have to. "But I am fairly certain that he will live. That he has held on this long is good news indeed."

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The Eye was watching him, and there was no place to hide. He felt a sharp pain in his wound. "Sam!" he cried again. In the back of his mind he knew that Sam would be no help against the powers of the Dark Lord but that did not matter. If he was going to die, he wanted Sam with him in his last moments. "Sam!" he wailed. "I never told you…" But the screaming had sapped his strength, and he collapsed onto the ground.

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"What do you suppose he never told him?" Pippin whispered fearfully as Elrond departed. "Oh, if Frodo died, and there was something he never got the chance to say…"

"Hush!" said Merry, a bit too harshly. He made sure to soften his tone when he spoke again. "Pippin, have you ever heard tales of Frodo's uncle Dodinas Brandybuck?"

Pippin shook his curly head. "Nothing except his place in the family tree," he said. "What of him?"

Merry hesitated. He wasn't sure he wanted to be telling the tale to someone who wasn't of age yet. Then again, he himself had heard the full story when he was twenty-nine, only a year older than Pippin. And Pippin had already seen and heard so much more of the world that he had at his age. "Well," he began, "to start off with, Dodinas was Frodo's mother Primula's older brother."

"I knew that," said Pippin, a little irritable from both stress and lack of sleep. "That can't be why you're talking about him."

"And he fancied lads."

"What?"

"He fancied lads. In the way that most lads fancy lasses."

"You mean…like he wanted to marry one?!"

"Yes. And he did, in a fashion. He lived in Buckland with Colbo Hornblower for years until he died. Colbo was his seventh cousin twice removed, if you follow me."

"And they were like husband and wife?"

"Yes. They slept in the same bed and everything. I remember visiting them sometimes when I was a child, before Dodinas died."

Pippin seemed to be digesting all of this. "So what does old Dodinas have to do with our Frodo?"

Merry rolled his eyes heavenward. "There may be some that call you a fool, Peregrin, but I know you've got a good head on those shoulders. Think about it for a bit."

Pippin's eyes widened. "You think…you think Frodo fancies Sam?"

"Well, I don't know. But I've often wondered why Frodo never married – "

"Because everyone thinks he's odd, that's why!"

" – and I've noticed that he's more happy around Sam than he is around anyone else in the world. And Sam's positively devoted to him."

"It's strange," said Pippin, standing up. "It's strange and I don't like to think of it."

"It wouldn't hurt anything if they were, Pippin!" Merry cried. The thought of Pippin being bothered by Frodo and whatever he might be was more than he could stand at that moment. "Name me one thing or person it would hurt!"

Pippin turned around and sighed. "You're right, Merry, it wouldn't hurt anyone," he said. "And I would like to see Frodo happy…he's been so melancholy since Bilbo went away."

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A pair of arms encircled him and pressed him close. He looked and, through the tears, saw Sam's broad face. "Sam," he whispered. "You came."

"Of course I did," Sam whispered back. And then their lips met in a sweet union of caring and passion.