Disclaimer: I do not own the works of J R R Tolkien. I am not profiting from writing this. I am intending no offense from the posting of this piece. I am not at all associated in any manner with any of the people or companies affiliated with J R R Tolkien and his work, or the movie based on his work. This story has nothing to do with the actors the portrayed J R R Tolkien's characters.
Author's note: I hope you enjoy this. Don't flame me about the Ring Wraith details not being marvelously high fidelity. I had to twist a few details to make this work.
My Enemy, My Lover
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It was in Bree that it happened.
That one night, when everything seemed so near to ruin, so implicitly hopeless, that a sudden redemption occurred.
So very unexpected, so very welcome.
Frodo was lying in bed, quivering and alone despite the company in the room. The cruel temperature of the night was freezing his small body to convulsions of fear and thermoregulation, and he wondered endlessly how he should even begin to face the terror that Strider had spoken on.
Those who hunted them, those who had followed and chased them mercilessly. Those who wanted both the ring, and the spillage of their blood.
They had heard the unholy shrieks beforehand, as the Ring Wraiths realized that they had been tricked, and had not killed the hobbits, but feather effigies instead.
It had pierced Frodo to the very core of his being. What it would affect in his personality and personal relationships in the future, he could not yet tell. It would be one of many scars gained during the course of their journey.
As he shivered and lamented, he felt a cold gust of wind on the back of his neck. Believing it to be one of the other hobbits or Strider breathing near, he did not look around.
"What are you after?" he asked, trying to contain the fright and apprehension in his voice.
"Let me show you, Baggins." Came the chilling, thin reply.
Frodo spun around in his bedding, coming very closely face to face with the ethereal and macabre face of a Ring Wraith.
He was about the scream and cry, to alert the other sleeping bodies he could see in his peripheral vision, when a cold hand was clamped over his soft mouth.
"Shhh…" calmed the Wraith, " Do not be so hasty, Frodo Baggins. Look around you. Your friends are unharmed. I am here alone. I have something for you. I am not after your ring. You can trust me."
Frodo looked about himself, and noted that the Ring Wraith was, indeed, telling the truth.
With a nod, the Ring Wraith let go of his mouth, as he could see that Frodo would not make noise.
"Why have you come here, if not for the one ring?" whispered Frodo, unconsciously lifting a hand to hide the jewel around his neck. Another thought occurred to him, which was peculiar indeed, so he added " And why is it that you are able to touch me?"
Strangely, the Wraith began to stroke him hair.
"Frodo… I have cast a spell upon myself, that my touch would not be poisonous to you. You are beautiful to me. I am not here for the ring, for there is a greater temptation. The temptation of the flesh. It is for you that I have come."
Frodo's eyes widened in disbelief. " What on earth do you mean?"
The Wraith slipped a finger delicately around Frodo's neck, pulling free the chain that the ring dangled from. He threw it onto the floor on the other side of the bed, out of his and Frodo's reach.
"You see, my darling, I don't care about it. It means nothing to me."
Without warning, the Wraith leaned forward and kissed Frodo with an exquisite gentility.
Despite himself, Frodo could not help leaning forward to reciprocate, as the touch was soft and loving.
"I saw you," said the Wraith quietly after pulling away, " First running through the woods. I could have killed you, and I would have been punished if my brethren had known that I let you escape, but your beauty astounded me. The gleam of your silken hair, the glitter of fear in those gorgeous eyes. My heart was won, by you, Baggins."
Suddenly, he pushed Frodo back onto the bed and pressed his entire weight into him.
Frodo, having never experienced such intimate contact with anyone, was initially too surprised to respond negatively or positively.
However, the Wraith's kisses were charming, and he felt himself drifting away into the world of wanton sexual activity.
He wound his arms around the Wraith's waist and pulled it closer, allowing his young and eager tongue to probe the delicious quarters of the other's mouth.
"Oh God Frodo," sighed the Wraith breathlessly into Frodo's ear " You are indeed, a prize."
Frodo could feel his member growing hard, and was alarmed at this unfamiliar occurrence, until he felt the Wraith push against him with a member equally as hard.
Frodo hissed with desire at the hardness he felt against his thigh, wishing that he knew what he should do to relieve this wonderful and wholly consuming tension he felt.
After a few furious minutes of impassioned kissing, the hobbit was topless. His tender young flesh was a morsel of heaven in the Wraith's eyes, and he could contain himself no longer.
"Frodo darling…" he said breathlessly, "I have to touch you… right now."
Without further ado, the Wraith slid his hand below the waistline of the hobbit's pants and began caressing his member with fervor.
As the hobbit's breathing quickened, he worked dexterously until the last pinnacle of sexual pleasure was felt by Frodo, and his labored breathing stumbled on the rhythmic waves of pleasure.
It was a first for Frodo, and the Wraith kissed him tenderly afterward.
"What can I do for you? How can I return this favor?" asked Frodo, not wanting to be selfish, and knowing that the pleasure should be shared between both parties.
"You are so very beautiful" sighed the Wraith, kissing his face tenderly.
At this affection, Frodo felt bold, and he turn the Wraith onto its back, pinning it to the bed.
"I have heard," he said to the willing body beneath him, " that the mouth can give great pleasure."
He started kissing down the chest of the Wraith, believing that his lips could affect as much pleasure as his partner's hand.
He felt a little apprehensive when his lips met with the hard member, but he continued blindly.
He guessed what might have felt good, and so he licked and sucked in a manner that he himself might have liked to be. From the noises and sighs and quiet moans that the Wraith was making, he supposed that he was doing something right.
The motion grew more furious and involved, and eventually the Wraith had its claws buried in Frodo's hair, and it pushed itself deeper into the hobbit.
In one ultimate hiss, the Wraith spilled its bitter seed into the hobbit's mouth.
They both lay there in silence, wondering at what had happened.
Suddenly, from a distant corner of the room, Strider stirred and put them on their guard.
The Wraith leapt silently from the bed, and turned to tuck Frodo under the sheets.
"I shall take my leave, Frodo." It said, patting that soft hair one more time, " Please do not forget me."
As it left, Frodo dangled his hand over the edge of his bed to retrieve the one ring from the floor.
Slipping it over his neck, he felt that the journey ahead of him might not be so reprehensible after all.
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