FIC: A HOBBIT, CAUGHT OFF HIS GUARD 8/8 
 
AUTHOR: Lily Baggins 
 
PAIRING: Frodo/Aragorn/Arwen 
 
WARNING: Het content 
 
RATING: NC-17 Sex.  
 
Disclaimers. The usual. I make no money off of this and do not own  
these characters, much to my chagrin. They belong to Tolkien  
Enterprises and New Line Productions, and I only give them  
interesting---and usually unpleasant---ways to spend their time. 
 
*** 
 
Frodo lay under the ranger, shivering with anticipation. Whatever he  
wanted to do? Oh, he could think of so many things, but there was one  
activity in particular he most wanted to indulge in. Not even Fatty  
Bolger had ever done this, although Frodo had read about it in some  
of the more risque Elvish tomes.  
 
 
He tried to speak up, but felt his face turning red as a beet. How  
could he tell Aragorn what he actually wanted? The man might laugh at  
him, or think he was a "mad Baggins" like many in the Shire . . .  
perhaps he would be turned off or disgusted . . .  
 
 
"I would . . ." He bit his lip, chewing it thoughtfully while trying  
to decide how best to convey his thoughts.  
 
 
Arwen's voice cut in, almost as if the elf-maid could read Frodo's  
mind (however, she *had* likely noticed the hobbit's unwavering gaze  
upon Aragorn's manhood, Frodo thought to himself). "Perhaps he would  
like to have you come inside of him, Estel." She turned and looked at  
Frodo, her eyes gentle. "It will be uncomfortable at first, but I  
will help you control the pain. It is rather glorious and I think  
you would like it." 
 
 
Frodo turned and looked at her. "You . . . have done it? That  
way . . . with Aragorn?" 
 
 
She nodded. "You learn to be creative when you have been together for  
more than thirty years, as Estel and I have. Yes, it is quite  
amazing . . . and I, being a female, do not even have the sensitive  
organ inside that adds to the sensation."  
 
 
"An organ inside of there? What does it do?"  
 
 
"Questions, questions," she teased. "You hobbits are indeed too  
curious. I am not altogether certain, but if you stimulate it, seed  
is released, so it must have a purpose having to do with that. Trust  
me, Frodo, you will find such stimulation quite enjoyable." 
 
 
He nodded nervously, thinking to himself of the education he was  
receiving all in one night. "Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I wanted,  
but was uncertain of whether to say so . . ."  
 
 
"You need not have been, for that is what I have desired to do with  
you for a very long time," Aragorn murmured. His lips quirking  
upward, he lowered his mouth to the hobbit's belly and gently trailed  
kisses from there all the way to the dark hair around Frodo's member.  
Frodo gasped at the wet butterfly sensations against his flesh and  
tangled his hands in the ranger's dark hair.  
 
 
"Oh . . ." was all Frodo could manage as he felt Aragorn's hand wrap  
about his erection. The ranger glanced up, smiling, and gingerly  
licked his lips before taking in the pearly-wet tip and sucking.  
Almost at once Frodo groaned and bucked, so thrilling was it. He  
moved his hands to grip the sheets tightly, sweat breaking out anew  
as he fought to maintain control. He was spiraling----spiraling  
downward----all the sensation in his body centered on that one small  
area between his legs.  
 
 
But then Aragorn drew away and the wonderful suction was gone. Frodo  
hardly had time to realize it before the ranger was once more  
stretched out atop him, careful not to crush him with his weight as  
he ran his long fingers through Frodo's hair and kissed his neck and  
collarbone.  
 
 
"So sweet, Frodo . . ." he murmured, and in response the hobbit  
wrapped his legs about the man's hips, reveling in the feel of the  
warm, tanned skin rough against his own. Clutching Aragorn's  
buttocks, Frodo scooted down to use his tongue to do to Aragorn what  
he had down to Arwen---gently play with his nipples---and from the  
sounds he elicited, he determined that the ranger liked it very much  
indeed.  
 
 
And when Frodo slid his hands down Aragorn's belly toward the man's  
member, Aragorn arched his back, breathing heavily. "Arwen, the oil,"  
he managed, and she handed him a small bottle of massage oil he had  
brought in for Frodo earlier.  
 
 
"Let me," Frodo said, allowing Aragorn to pour the oil out on his  
hands. With slow, languorous movements he swirled his small hands  
about the man's member, enjoying its silky softness and girth while  
spreading the oil liberally. The ranger groaned, clearly nearing the  
end of his tolerance. "Lie back, Frodo," he said urgently.  
 
 
Frodo quickly complied, reclining near the head of the bed next to  
Arwen. She took one of his hands in hers, soothing. The hobbit knew  
he was trembling---he wanted this badly---so badly---but he was more  
apprehensive, if possible, than when he had been with Arwen.  
Probably, he reflected, because he had fantasized about this moment  
for days on end. And never thought it could possibly come to pass.  
 
 
Aragorn's eyes were gleaming as he knelt on the bed and gently pushed  
Frodo's knees up and apart. The hobbit shivered as warm hands touched  
his most sensitive areas, opening his buttocks more and coating the  
cleft liberally with the oil. He gasped loudly at the unexpected  
sensation of one long finger entering his opening, gently massaging  
the tight ring of muscle.  
 
 
"Just relax, Frodo. I'm stretching the muscle a bit---you will enjoy  
it more that way, trust me." 
 
 
Frodo nodded, unable to speak as another finger was added to the  
first. It was slightly painful, but every time he felt a twinge it  
seemed to be soothed by Arwen's touch, guiding him through.  
 
 
Then suddenly Aragorn's hand went deeper and Frodo's eyes flew wide  
open---what *was* that?  
 
 
The ranger grinned, and Frodo realized he'd spoken aloud. "I  
am . . . sorry," the hobbit gasped, "but I have never felt anything  
quite . . . like that." He squirmed a bit as he spoke, pushing  
himself down more on Aragorn's fingers, disappointed when the hand  
withdrew. 
 
 
"Aragorn, why did you stop . . . I need that again . . . please . . 
." 
 
 
"Ssshhh, little one . . . there is something better in store . . .  
just wait." 
 
 
Grasping Frodo's knees, which in itself caused the somewhat ticklish  
hobbit to shudder, Aragorn scrambled into position and placed his  
member at the tip of Frodo's entrance. Frodo whimpered a bit and  
squeezed Arwen's hand, his fingers white, as Aragorn slid into him  
very slowly. It hurt a bit, yes, but the elf-maid's soothing touch  
helped, and the pain was second to the delicious feeling of that hard  
heat spreading his body apart. 
 
 
"All right, Frodo?" Aragorn's voice from above him, spoken through  
somewhat clenched teeth.  
 
 
"Yes, oh yes . . . go on . . ." 
 
 
Thanks to Arwen the pain was fleeting and soon gone, replaced by only  
a satisfying---indeed quite wonderful---fullness as the ranger pushed  
his penis into Frodo as far as possible. Frodo groaned and lifted his  
legs, wrapping them about the man's waist as Aragorn pulled out and  
pushed back in, hitting that same sweet spot his fingers had earlier.  
The hobbit gently disengaged his hand from Arwen's and clutched  
Aragorn's sweat-soaked shoulders, burying his head against the firm  
flesh.  
 
 
"Aragorn . . ."  
 
 
"Hold on, Frodo."  
 
 
The ranger pumped, trying to be as gentle as possible but quite  
losing himself in the moment. Frodo didn't care---the sensation of  
the huge, hard penis buried inside of him, moving through tightened  
muscles and hitting deeply was unbelievable. Then Aragorn's hand  
moved down to wrap about Frodo's shaft and the hobbit thought he  
would surely fly off the bed at any time.  
 
 
"Oh, I'm . . ."  
 
 
"Yes . . ." 
 
 
The sensation built up to an incredible crescendo, and Frodo bit his  
lip to keep from crying out and waking the others in the household.  
But as he felt the explosive climax, it was impossible to keep quiet  
and he did call out Aragorn's name---quite loudly---as his seed  
soaked his and Aragorn's bellies. A moment later the ranger came,  
also making a good bit of noise, and Frodo felt himself fill with the  
man's warmth.  
 
 
Then it was over, leaving two sweat-slick bodies collapsed on one  
another. Leaning up a bit, Aragorn kissed Frodo's face---his eyelids,  
nose, lips, all over---grinning. "So, Frodo, did it meet your  
expectations?"  
 
 
"Mmmm . . . I believe a repeat performance is in order in the  
morning."  
 
 
The ranger laughed, tweaking the hobbit's nose as Arwen grabbed a  
towel for them to clean up with. The elf-maid gently wiped Frodo's  
damp face and chest while Aragorn pulled his flaccid member out of  
the hobbit, making sure Frodo was undamaged, and wiped the oil off of  
both of them.  
 
 
Frodo felt quite wonderful---he felt sure he would be sore the next  
morning, but a nice long soak in a hot bath would take care of it. He  
yawned widely as Aragorn and Arwen finished their ministrations,  
suddenly feeling extremely sleepy. Scrambling for his pillow he  
plopped down, curling up and pulling the blankets over him.  
 
 
Aragorn and Arwen slipped in on either side, Aragorn spooning up  
behind Frodo and wrapping his arms about the hobbit's chest as he  
drew him close. Content, Frodo sighed, enjoying the warmth of being  
tucked under Aragorn's chin. And Arwen lay close, her long hair  
spilling about Frodo and her sweet scent permeating the air. Suddenly  
Frodo chuckled a bit as an earlier memory from the evening rose  
unbidden. 
 
 
"What is so amusing?" Aragorn asked. 
 
 
Frodo smiled. "I was only thinking of Fatty Bolger---a good friend  
who used to torment me for being inexperienced. And wondering what he  
would think of me now."  
 
 
"Ah. In bed with a man and an elf. I'm sure he would be surprised." 
 
 
"Yes." The thought amused Frodo no end. His eyelids growing heavy, he  
reached down to lightly stroke the arms clasped so lovingly about  
him, quite thankful he had a relaxing day ahead of him and did not  
have to worry about rising early.  
 
 
"Aragorn?" 
 
 
"Yes?" 
 
 
"What time are you leaving for your journey?" 
 
 
"I am not certain. Probably mid-morning, while you slugabed hobbits  
are still asleep."  
 
 
"I fear I have kept you awake, then," Frodo said in a worried voice. 
 
 
Aragorn laughed as he momentarily tightened his arms about the hobbit  
in a gentle squeeze. "Then fear not, Frodo. I am a ranger---I survive  
on very little rest. And trust me, this evening did much more to  
prepare me for a journey than a bit more sleep. I feel  
extremely . . . refreshed." 
 
 
"I shall miss you. Wake me before you go, please." 
 
 
"No, Frodo . . . you need your rest to fully recover from your  
injury. If you are asleep, I will leave you to it. Fret not---I will  
return soon enough. And while I am gone Arwen will be here."  
 
 
At this the elf-maid smiled and reached out to brush back Frodo's  
bangs. "Indeed, seek me out whenever you desire, Ring-bearer. I shall  
be here for you."  
 
 
He nodded gratefully, closing his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered,  
but they barely heard it before he let sleep take him.  
 
*** 
 
EPILOGUE 
 
Many months later . . .  
 
 
Frodo woke to dawn breaking in Minas Tirith, taking in the deep green  
velvet curtains strung about the gigantic bed and the ornate gilt  
patterns decorating the ceiling. He stretched, grimacing as he  
accidentally hit a warm body with his hand. He did not wish to wake  
them up----the king and queen would be rising soon enough for a  
diplomatic breakfast, leaving Frodo to sleep and then meet with the  
other hobbits to spend the day.  
 
 
Frodo listened to their quiet, even breathing, fingering the Evenstar  
pendant about his neck---a promise of peace if he so desired it. He  
did not know yet what his choice would be, but he was certain that  
the quest had been made more bearable simply by spending the cold  
nights curled up around Aragorn in one bedroll. And when privacy  
afforded, sharing more than sleep.  
 
 
When Frodo had finally come to himself again in Ithilien, it was  
Aragorn's face he saw just after Gandalf's. And after that the king  
spent many a night and day with him, tending to Frodo and helping him  
to forget the fires of Mordor.  
 
 
And yet the hobbit had never been so delighted to see two people wed  
as Arwen and Aragorn---both had waited many years for such happiness.  
He was no longer inexperienced, but many times he was content to  
simply watch the two of them, or to be held in their arms until he  
drifted off into a dreamless slumber. If anyone noticed the Ring- 
bearer disappearing each night they simply reckoned that he had found  
great favor with King Elessar and Queen Arwen Undomiel and made no  
mention of it.  
 
 
And now Frodo lovingly touched his pendant, thinking back to the  
queen's words when she had bestowed it upon him, "But wear this now  
in memory of Elfstone and Evenstar with whom your life has been  
woven!" 
 
 
And in bed between them, Frodo smiled as he turned over and curled  
up, indeed weaving small arms about Aragorn's waist as a silver  
trumpet sounded faintly in the distance. 
 
~The End~