FIC: ECHO OF THE GLADDEN FIELDS 3/? 
 
Author: Lily Baggins 
 
PAIRINGS: Frodo/Aragorn 
 
RATING: NC-17 violence, Angst, h/c, 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, or whoever has the rights now, and I only give them  
interesting---and usually unpleasant---ways to spend their time.  
 
As usual, I'm messing with canon and taking some mighty creative  
license. Things happen here that definitely did NOT happen in the  
book or the movie--- I'm sure Tolkien would lock me up in Barad-dur  
and throw away the key if he read this. 
 
Feedback: Sure. Archiving: Feel free.  
 
*** 
 
Aragorn turned to Boromir and Legolas. "The fire is going well now.  
Let's move them closer to it while we finish getting their wet  
clothing off. And let us make sure they do not have any injuries we  
have missed." He gently lifted Frodo while Boromir took Sam, and both  
of them laid the hobbits down close to the campfire Merry and Pippin  
had built. Frodo and Sam were still breathing raggedly and shivering,  
although their faces did not look quite so blue as they had earlier. 
 
 
Aragorn began to quickly undo Frodo's sodden clothes, shaking his  
head at the umpteen layers of garments the hobbit seemed to possess.  
Frodo's coat had already been removed, but that still left two cloaks  
he had been bundled up in, followed by his brown vest containing the  
Ring, suspenders, and his white shirt. Taking the Ring out of Frodo's  
vest, Aragorn restrung it on its silver chain about the hobbit's 
neck. 
 
 
Once the ranger had removed these items, he still had the shimmering  
mithril coat to contend with---and a light leather shirt under that.  
Aragorn had a bit of trouble getting the mithril coat off of Frodo  
and had to lift the hobbit partly off the ground to get it over his  
head. Once done, Gimli happily took charge of looking after it.  
Nearby, Boromir had nearly finished with Sam's clothing. 
 
 
Aragorn then unfastened Sting from Frodo's hip and began to unbutton  
the hobbit's breeches, which were secured by four buttons in front.  
Strange clothing the hobbits wore, Aragorn thought to himself.  
 
 
Listening to Frodo's labored breathing, Aragorn stopped for a moment  
to turn Frodo onto his side. He patted the hobbit's back several  
times to facilitate further clearing of Frodo's lungs and airway, but  
nothing came up. Aragorn sighed and caressed the pale cheek gently,  
rolling Frodo back over. 
 
 
Aragorn slid Frodo's breeches off and paused a moment before removing  
his underpants---curious linen-like shorts which were actually very  
soft to the touch. Like the rest of the hobbit's clothing, they were  
wet, so Aragorn went ahead and slipped them off, averting his eyes as  
best he could from Frodo's flaccid member resting softly in a nest of  
dark curly hair. It would not do at all, Aragorn thought, to ogle his  
small patient when he was vulnerable and unconscious. He had seen  
Frodo unclothed before---privacy on a long journey such as this was a  
rare thing---but that didn't make resisting lustful urges any easier. 
 
 
Taking soft cloths from his pack, he handed one to Boromir and the  
two men proceeded to rub the hobbits briskly from head to toe to warm  
them up and improve circulation. Aragorn first began drying Frodo's  
hair, knowing that it would chill the hobbit as long as it was wet,  
then gently dabbed at the delicate pointed ears and face. He quickly  
moved down the whole of Frodo's body, rubbing briskly, businesslike  
and stern, making sure he had not overlooked any injuries. 
 
 
And Aragorn ruefully considered it a good sign---and managed to keep  
his face perfectly straight---when Frodo's penis rose a bit in  
response to the ranger's rubbing motions. 
 
 
He quickly moved down to Frodo's legs and feet. As he finished and  
grabbed for cloaks and a bedroll to wrap the shivering hobbit in,  
Frodo whimpered and his eyelids fluttered, then he coughed slightly.  
Aragorn turned Frodo toward him on his side as the coughing spasms  
grew worse. The ranger lightly thumped Frodo's back with one hand as  
he spoke soothing words to the hobbit in Elvish.  
 
 
After a few minutes, the coughing subsided a bit and Frodo moaned,  
his breathing still ragged.  
 
 
"Frodo, wake up," the ranger implored, cupping the hobbit's face with  
his hands and willing him to consciousness. "Come, little one,"  
Aragorn said in a sterner voice. "Wake up now . . . open your eyes.  
Can you hear me, Frodo?" 
 
 
Slowly the eyelids lifted to reveal the bright blue eyes, which  
stared straight ahead, seemingly unseeing. 
 
 
"Frodo?" Aragorn called again, concerned. He patted Frodo's cheek  
briskly and the hobbit sighed.  
 
 
"Strider?" Frodo asked in a raspy voice. "Where . . . am I?  
What . . . happened?" He coughed a bit with the effort of speaking  
and shivered with the cold. 
 
 
"Yes, it's me, Frodo," the ranger told him, draping a bedroll over  
the hobbit for warmth. He laid a large hand on Frodo's cheek and  
brushed the still-damp hair back from a pointed ear. Aragorn's mouth  
was slightly turned up in what was for him extreme joy at seeing the  
hobbit awake. "You nearly drowned, Frodo . . . Gollum attacked you." 
 
 
Suddenly the hobbit's eyes grew hugely wide and a look of panic came  
over his face. He tried to reach up, wincing at the pain in his  
injured arm. Aragorn knew what he was seeking and lightly jostled the  
chain around Frodo's neck. 
 
 
"You still have the Ring," the ranger told him. "It's there about  
your neck." The blue eyes simply stared at him and then relaxed, half  
closing, before they opened up again.  
 
 
"How do you feel?" the ranger asked him as Merry and Pippin came over  
to stand by the two, tears in their eyes at seeing Frodo awake.  
 
 
"Hurts," Frodo whispered wearily, coughing.  
 
 
"What hurts?" the ranger asked. "Your arm? You were wounded by an  
arrow, Frodo. It will heal, but will be painful for a time, I'm  
afraid."  
 
 
"Mmm..." the hobbit murmured. "Chest and . . . ears . . . hurt." 
 
 
Aragorn understood. Frodo probably still had river water running  
around in his inner ears that would take awhile to come out. He was  
dismayed to hear that Frodo's chest hurt, although it was probably to  
be expected given the circumstances.  
 
 
"I'm sorry, little one . . . I'll see what I can do about easing your  
pain," Aragorn said as he rubbed Frodo's shoulder briskly through the  
bedroll to ease his shivering. Although with his limited stock of  
supplies, the ranger wasn't certain what more he could do. 
 
 
Next to them, Boromir was wrapping Sam up in his bedroll, and seeing  
Sam's curly golden hair, Frodo's eyes widened and he started  
breathing more quickly. "S . . sam?" he asked, his voice wavering,  
his eyes moving back to Aragorn. "Aragorn, is Sam . . . ?" he trailed  
off, his lower lip quivering with fear, tears welling up in his eyes. 
 
"No, little one, Sam is alive. He's still unconscious, but he doesn't  
seem to have any permanent injuries. We're watching him carefully and  
I'm sure he will wake up soon. Now, you rest." 
 
 
Frodo nodded, opening his mouth to speak, but he was still weak from  
his near-drowning and blood loss form his arrow wound. He sighed and  
closed his eyes in exhaustion, giving back in to sleep. Aragorn  
turned to Merry and Pippin, handing them Frodo's and Sam's wet  
clothes to lay out by the fire to dry. Boromir looked at the ranger. 
 
 
"Maybe we should wrap them up together, so they may share body heat  
and warm up faster?" Boromir asked him. 
 
 
Aragorn shook his head. "For now, neither has enough body heat to  
help the other. It would be better if we held them for awhile near  
the fire and shared a bedroll with them later." The man of Gondor  
nodded, wrapping his charge warmly.  
 
 
Aragorn gently bundled Frodo tightly in two dry cloaks and two  
bedrolls, covering his head so that only his face peeked out. The  
ranger caressed the soft cheek gently, lingering a moment over the  
lips, then looked to see how Boromir was faring with Sam. As he  
glanced up, Aragorn saw Legolas watching him, a kind but knowing  
expression on his fair face. The ranger quickly looked away as he  
prepared to lift Frodo onto his lap. 
 
 
"Aragorn?" Legolas's voice called to him. "Aragorn, you should eat  
something. The other hobbits have already begun to cook a meal." 
 
 
"I will in a while, Legolas."  
 
 
"Aragorn, I know how stubborn you can be, and you also, Boromir," the  
elf went on. "Gimli and I can look after Frodo and Sam while you two  
go have something to eat. If only for a few minutes." 
 
 
Boromir nodded, but Aragorn was extremely reluctant to give Frodo up  
to someone else. Looking at Legolas's concerned face, however, and  
not wanting to appear ungrateful, he gave in.  
 
 
"Very well," the ranger told him, "but you two shall need to hold  
them so they do not lay on the cold ground." Picking his well-wrapped  
burden up, Aragorn carried Frodo over to Legolas and set him in the  
elf's arms. Legolas took the hobbit and held him snugly, resting  
Frodo's cloak-covered head against his shoulder. Gimli did the same  
with Sam.  
 
 
Merry and Pippin had just finished preparing sausage and other  
sundries from their supplies, and the food smelled good to those who  
had not had a hot meal in many long days. Aragorn found it slightly  
tasteless, however. He could not really concentrate on eating---his  
eyes kept straying to the wrapped figure in Legolas's arms. The elf  
and Gimli sat near one another, holding their charges and engaging in  
light conversation. Aragorn had finished his meal and was about to  
reclaim Frodo when Gimli called out.  
 
 
"I think Sam is waking up!" he called gruffly as he felt the hobbit  
shift slightly in his arms. Setting their tins of food down, Aragorn  
and the others ran to Gimli's side. Sure enough, Sam's eyelids  
fluttered and he opened them slightly. The ranger spoke softly to  
him.  
 
 
"Sam, you're all right. Sam, wake up," he called gently.  
 
 
"Aye, Sam, we want you to open your eyes now," Gimli told him.  
 
 
Sam coughed slightly and moved his lips a bit. "Smells . . . good,"  
was all he said, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep. The  
rest of the company looked at each other, smiling. 
 
 
"I'd say that's a good sign," the ranger told them. "Hopefully when  
he wakes we can persuade him to drink a bit. He and Frodo need to  
take some water and food, but we can ill afford to have them choke on  
it." He sighed, then straightened and looked at the others. "I'd say  
it's high time we all got some rest. We must rise early and figure  
out our travel plans. We shall have to see how Frodo and Sam are  
faring in the morning before we can decide when to move on." 
 
 
"Aye," said Boromir, "I can't see taking these two sick things on the  
boats---that seems folly to me."  
 
 
The ranger nodded. They needed to move on---it was dangerous to stay  
in any one place for too long---but he was not willing to risk the  
hobbits' health to do so if they were still feeble come the morrow.  
 
 
Going to Legolas, Aragorn peered down at Frodo's face. "Go and have a  
rest, Legolas," Aragorn told him as he felt Frodo's forehead to check  
his temperature. "I'll take Frodo. Gimli is taking the first watch,  
and Merry and Pippin have already volunteered to look after Sam." 
 
 
Legolas nodded and gave up his charge to Aragorn's waiting arms.  
Deciding he should try to get some sleep, the ranger spread a bedroll  
on the ground and lay Frodo down on it. He unwrapped Frodo from his  
wad of coverings so the hobbit lay wrapped in only a dry human-sized  
cloak.  
 
 
Although Frodo's skin was warmer to the touch than it had been  
earlier, Aragorn was taking no chances of the hobbit becoming  
chilled. Lying down on his side next to Frodo, Aragorn turned Frodo  
to face him and drew him close so the hobbit's head rested against  
the man's warm chest. The ranger knew it was important to keep a  
person's head warm to prevent heat from escaping, so he wrapped the  
bedrolls snugly about the two of them up to his own neck, so that  
Frodo's head was completely covered. An observer would not have been  
able to see the hobbit wrapped up with Aragorn. 
 
 
A few feet away by the fire, Merry and Pippin had curled up with Sam  
tucked tightly between them, sharing their body heat. 
 
 
The ranger sighed as he felt Frodo's curly hair---still a tiny bit  
damp---tickling his chest where his shirt lay open. Pulling the  
hobbit into an even closer embrace, Aragorn closed his eyes and  
simply enjoyed the feel of the smaller body pressed against his own.  
And he admitted to himself, as he felt his member become slightly  
aroused, that his protective instincts toward Frodo did not stem  
solely from his duty as the leader of the Company. 
 
To be continued