FIC: ECHO OF THE GLADDEN FIELDS 17/? 
 
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: Iffin you wanna.  
 
*** 
 
"We will rest here," declared Aragorn two hours later as they spied a  
suitable spot of riverbank. The sky was rapidly growing darker, and  
the ranger was eager to tend to Sam and remove the bandages from  
Frodo's arm and hand---as well as dry his own clothes out a bit more  
by the fire. He was still rather damp from falling in the river.  
 
 
Sam was improving more each day, Aragorn was pleased to note. He was  
fully conscious for longer periods of time now, although he was  
usually quite drowsy from Aragorn's continued doses of medicinal  
brew. At any rate, he was out of danger as long as he was allowed to  
rest, the ranger pronounced, which considerably lightened everyone's  
spirits.  
 
 
A fire was a bit risky, but since Frodo and Sam had gotten ill, they  
had lit one every night and had become accustomed to it, and Aragorn  
had not the heart to stop the practice until Sam was healthy again.  
He needed to be kept warm at all times to avoid a possible relapse.  
 
 
While Merry and Pippin started supper, with some help from Boromir,  
Aragorn turned his attention to Frodo's hand and arm, sitting next to  
the hobbit while he unwrapped the soggy bandages and trying to avoid  
dwelling on what had happened---and almost happened---earlier in the  
canoe. Just one look at the hobbit's rosebud lips made the ranger's  
groin tighten, and he shifted uncomfortably as he examined Frodo's  
injuries.  
 
 
The wounds looked much better than the ranger had anticipated,  
although it was obvious from the way Frodo grimaced at his touch that  
they were still quite painful. Indeed, the hobbit rarely used that  
arm for anything, usually holding it close and favoring it. 
 
 
"As soon as it is healed more, we need to make sure we exercise your  
arm and hand to avoid the muscle becoming too weak and stiff,"  
Aragorn told him.  
 
 
Frodo nodded, watching as the ranger grabbed a flask of oil from his  
pack and opened it.  
 
 
"What is that for?" Frodo asked, certain it was something bad- 
smelling or foul-tasting. 
 
 
"It is linseed oil. It will help the wound heal faster, with less of  
a scar. I would have applied it earlier, but the wound was not closed  
enough and I feared it would make it more painful."  
 
 
"I see." The hobbit paused for a moment. "I am sorry for what  
happened earlier today. And your clothes are still damp---I think you  
have tended me enough. Please, sit by the fire and dry out a bit." 
 
 
"I will in a moment. But first I need to finish wrapping your arm up  
well. And as for earlier today . . . well, I quite enjoyed what time  
we did have together, little one." The ranger's blue-gray eyes grew  
wistful as they rose to gaze into the hobbit's. "And as for the rest  
of it . . . well . . . as I said, someday." 
 
 
Frodo looked down and bit his lip, wondering whether to ask the next  
question. "Aragorn . . . do you think the others know . . . uh, what  
we were doing in the boat?"  
 
 
"If they do, I do believe I'm beyond caring. If your cousins can  
engage in such activities, I don't see why we must hide."  
 
 
Frodo gulped. "My . . . cousins? As in . . . my cousins Merry and  
Pippin? With each other?"  
 
 
Aragorn laughed. "How could you have failed to notice? Ahhh . . . I  
believe it started after you and Sam had your accident. You were in  
no shape to notice. They think they're being discreet, but it is  
obvious." 
 
 
Frodo coughed, his eyes wide, trying to take it all in.  
 
 
"Of course . . . they are two hobbits," Aragorn reminded. "Some might  
frown upon a man and a hobbit." 
 
 
"Let them," Frodo answered. "I do not care---what difference does  
size make, anyway? We're not so different, Aragorn." 
 
 
"No, indeed we're not. But there are some areas in which size  
differences, Frodo, could cause . . . certain difficulties. It is  
only practical to think about such things." 
 
 
The hobbit just looked at him, his blue eyes wide. "I'm not worried,  
Aragorn. If the time ever comes, I will do whatever it takes to give  
you pleasure, as you gave me today." 
 
 
Aragorn grimaced as he felt himself becoming aroused. "Well, I think  
we'd best change the direction of this conversation before----" his  
words were cut short by Pippin exclaiming that "supper was now ready,  
and all who didn't come eat immediately were going to find no food  
left."  
 
 
Sighing, both Frodo and Aragorn walked over to the fire and served  
themselves. During their meal, Frodo kept glancing at his cousins,  
watching them to see if the ranger was correct. After viewing their  
secret glances and simple touches, and feeling quite like a voyeur,  
Frodo concluded that Merry and Pippin had indeed discovered the  
pleasures of a relationship with each other. Looking at Legolas and  
Gimli and remembering the exorbitant amount of time the two had spent  
alone with each other in Lothlorien, Frodo began to wonder if there  
was something between them as well. *Stop that, Frodo Baggins,* he  
told himself, *you are becoming fixated.* 
 
 
When supper was over, the Company sat passing a sleeping Sam around  
to hold and comfort while discussing the next day's plans. The stars  
were out and the weather had cleared up considerably, leaving the air  
a tad muggy and comfortably cool without being chilly. Boromir again  
tried to give Merry and Pippin sword-fighting lessons, until Aragorn  
kindly asked them to stop as he wasn't in the mood to stitch another  
hobbit up this century. Legolas, as usual, was not to be found---he  
was off exploring, or communing with nature, as elves were wont to 
do. 
 
 
A good while later, they found themselves growing drowsy and decided  
to retire for the night. Frodo lay curled on his side in his bedroll  
facing the fire, gazing at the night sky and thinking about Aragorn.  
He found he was not sleepy at all---likely due to his having taken  
quite a long nap in the boat. And, he was recovering his strength,  
finally, from his near-drowning and nasty infection. Nearby, Merry  
and Pippin lay with Sam between them, sharing their body heat.  
 
 
As usual, Aragorn had first watch---but he found himself wishing it  
were over so that he could go off into the woods and release the  
pressure, so to speak, from the day's events---or lack thereof. As it  
was, he had to fight to keep his glance from straying to Frodo in his  
bedroll and noticing how the reflection of the campfire flames bathed  
the hobbit's dark hair and delicate features.  
 
 
Suddenly, the ranger became aware of a presence next to him. He  
looked up at the tall form of Legolas.  
 
 
"It is my watch, Aragorn," the elf stated simply.  
 
 
"Legolas, we agreed I would take the first watch. It has barely been  
a half-hour. . ." 
 
 
"Nay, I would rather watch than stand about . . . I find myself full  
of too much energy at present to rest. And after me, Boromir and  
Gimli shall take the watch." Legolas raised an eyebrow and crossed  
his arms. "I do believe you are free to go spend your time as you  
wish."  
 
 
He stood and looked at the ranger as Aragorn eyed him with puzzlement  
and a bit of suspicion. Seeing he was getting nowhere, Legolas  
continued.  
 
 
"Aragorn, I have been out scouting the area, and there is a natural  
hot spring that way"---and here Legolas pointed with his slender arm-
- 
-"quite shallow, but extremely warm and soothing. Your clothes are  
still quite damp from the river---it would certainly not do for you  
to catch a chill as the hobbits did, and a long soak in the spring's  
warmth would refresh you. As an elf, I am immune to such, therefore  
it is only logical that I take the watch while you go avail yourself  
of this good fortune." 
 
 
Aragorn nodded but remained seated. He *was* a bit chilly with his  
damp clothes on. "Very well, Legolas, if you are certain . . ." 
 
 
"Yes, my friend," Legolas answered, "quite certain---with one  
condition." He paused. "I believe I did see Frodo shivering just a  
bit in his bedroll only a moment ago. It would greatly benefit him to  
go with you and share the warm water." 
 
 
The ranger raised his eyebrows slightly, a look of amusement coming  
to his face, but said nothing. 
 
 
"Go, Aragorn," the elf urged again, his eyes merry. "Trust me, no one  
will bother you for a long time---I will see to it."  
 
 
This time, the ranger rose, clasping Legolas briefly on the shoulder,  
and slowly walked to Frodo's bedroll with a nervousness he was  
surprised to feel.  
 
 
As Aragorn approached, he saw that Frodo was indeed shivering in his  
bedroll, although he had the blankets pulled up to his chin. The  
hobbit's brows knitted together in a frown. "Aragorn, is everything  
all right? I thought you were supposed to be on watch."  
 
 
"Legolas relieved me. Are you cold, little one?"  
 
 
The hobbit frowned. "Only a bit, as my clothes are still a bit damp  
feeling from the rain earlier today. But it is a pleasant evening---I  
don't feel a chill wind in the air." 
 
 
The ranger knelt by Frodo's bedroll, rubbing the hobbit's shoulders  
through the blanket and reaching out to tenderly stroke the soft  
hair. He was warring with himself---a few words and Frodo would  
likely accompany him to the hot spring. And Aragorn knew something  
would happen between them if he did. Perhaps, the ranger reflected,  
it was best to simply go by himself and forget what he and Frodo had  
shared earlier---what he had yearned for many times over the course  
of the last weeks. It would probably be best in the long run, Aragorn  
ruefully conceded, to avoid complicating things.  
 
 
Frodo was gazing up at him with wide trusting eyes, and the ranger  
suddenly knew what his decision would be.  
 
 
"Frodo," he said gently, "Legolas has spotted a natural hot spring  
nearby---just within the privacy of the woods. I am going to soak a  
bit in its warmth. The water would probably do you good, as well. You  
are welcome to accompany me, if you wish it." 
 
 
"Do *you* wish it?"  
 
 
"Yes, Frodo. I do indeed. Very much." 
 
 
"Then I shall go with you." The hobbit's words were matter-of-fact  
and spoken without hesitation.  
 
 
Aragorn's lips curved upward in a slight smile. Grabbing the Phial of  
Galadriel, his pack, and some things nearby, he helped Frodo rise and  
together, they set off toward the waiting water.  
 
 
From his place by the tree, Legolas watched them leave with a  
grateful sigh, muttering something about "a plague on men and hobbits  
and their stiff necks."  
 
 
To be continued