FIC: ECHO OF THE GLADDEN FIELDS 18/? 
 
Author: Lily Baggins 
 
PAIRINGS: Frodo/Aragorn 
 
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.  
 
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.  
 
*** 
 
It was fully dark outside when Aragorn and Frodo left the camp.  
Reaching the woods, Aragorn carried the Phial of Galadriel in front  
of them so that he and Frodo would have some light to see by.  
Carefully, they picked a path through the thick trees and  
undergrowth, in the direction Legolas had indicated. After ten  
minutes or so they were rewarded with the sound of running water. 
 
 
"Ah, it appears we have finally found the hot spring," Aragorn said  
softly with a glance at his hobbit companion. Frodo had been  
unusually quiet on the way, and now he turned and looked at the  
ranger with a face filled with part fear and part longing, his eyes  
shining in the light of the star-glass.  
 
 
"Come," the ranger urged him, lightly taking the hobbit's arm as he  
stepped forward and held the Phial aloft. 
 
 
Both he and Frodo raised their eyebrows at the sight. The hot spring  
was small but quite beautiful---a crystal-clear pool deeply set  
within walls of rocks, to afford privacy, and bordered by thick trees  
and clumps of bushes. On its far side rose a shelf of higher rocks  
through which a tiny waterfall trickled, and here and there the  
spring was dotted with large flat rocks jutting out of the water.  
Suddenly thoughts ran through Aragorn's mind that he figured he  
oughtn't to be pondering, and he shook his head to clear it. He  
didn't want Frodo to think his sole purpose in bringing him to the  
spring was to bed the hobbit---better to go slowly than to frighten  
Frodo with his intentions. 
 
 
Clearing his throat, the ranger walked up to the edge of the water  
and gently set the star-glass down so that it subtly illuminated the  
entire area. Bending, he trailed a hand in the water, finding it  
extremely warm, but very pleasantly so. He turned to Frodo with a  
smile. 
 
 
"The water feels very good. I don't know when I've been last enjoyed  
a soak such as this."  
 
 
The Ring-bearer smiled back. "It does indeed look very inviting." He  
stared at the ranger, feeling a bit nervous. Frodo had never been  
with a man before, and he wasn't sure he'd be altogether pleasing to  
Aragorn.  
 
 
Aragorn, seeing his look, mistook it for hesitancy, and his eyes  
turned troubled. "Look, little one, we are simply availing ourselves  
of the warm water. Nothing more. There does not have to be anything  
more." 
 
 
Frodo's eyes widened and he smirked, deciding to play with the  
ranger. "Very well. Then you must stay on your side of the pool, and  
I will stay on mine." So saying, he removed his waistcoat and began  
to unbutton his weskit, looking up at Aragorn with a curve of his  
lips. "And you must promise not to look." 
 
 
"I told you earlier that you were incorrigible," the ranger said in a  
mock huff. "All right then, I shall not look---but keep in mind---I  
have seen it all before. And more, if I recall correctly our time in  
the canoe." 
 
 
At these words the hobbit blushed, casting his eyes down while he  
realized his bandaged arm and hand would give him some difficulty in  
removing the rest of his clothing. He sighed. And what was he to do  
with the bandages? Leave them on or take them off? 
 
 
Seeing Frodo's dilemma, Aragorn knelt before him, taking the small  
arm and hand and gently unwrapping the dressings.  
 
 
"It will be good healing therapy for your injuries to soak in the  
warm water," he told Frodo, "and will help with the soreness. When we  
get out of the water, I will wash it well with athelas and rebandage  
it for you." 
 
 
Frodo nodded and grimaced as the bandages came away. The arm was  
healing, but still looked ugly, and he hated the sight of it. Looking  
at the stitches just seemed to make the arm begin aching, so he  
looked away.  
 
 
A gentle hand trailed down his cheek, turning his face back to  
Aragorn's. "All right, Frodo, let's get you out of these clothes so  
that you may partake of the water." *Among other things, hopefully,*  
a small voice in Aragorn's head said.  
 
 
With nimble fingers the ranger finished unfastening the hobbit's  
weskit, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt, ruefully recalling how many  
layers of clothing the hobbit always seemed to be wearing. Removing  
Frodo's shirt, he managed to wrangle the mithril coat off and then  
the soft leather shirt under that, revealing at last the pale expanse  
of the hobbit's chest and shoulders.  
 
 
Still kneeling in front of Frodo, the ranger swallowed hard and began  
to unbutton Frodo's breeches, looking up every few seconds at the  
blue eyes gazing so seriously at him. If he looked close enough, he  
could just see the faint dewy sheen of sweat on Frodo's brow and  
lips. And it was fairly evident, even before the ranger pulled the  
breeches off, that the hobbit harbored a full erection. 
 
 
Finally the breeches were unfastened, and in one smooth movement  
Aragorn pulled them down with Frodo's underbreeches until they were  
in a pool at his feet. Then the hobbit stepped out of them and  
Aragorn cast them aside, leaving Frodo entirely unclothed, wearing  
only the Ring on its silver chain around his neck.  
 
 
Quickly Aragorn stood away from the hobbit before he lost control and  
pulled Frodo to him. He had seen Frodo unclad, of course, but never  
standing like a marble statue in the moonlight--and it was almost  
maddening. The hobbit was the most perfect thing Aragorn had ever  
seen---small yes, but masculine and ideally proportioned---except for  
the feet, of course. But that was part of being a hobbit, and even  
those, the ranger found rather endearing.  
 
 
"You'd better get into the water before you catch a chill, Frodo,"  
the ranger advised, even though he was the one shivering.  
 
 
The hobbit nodded slowly, then turned and made his way to the pool,  
Aragorn's eyes following the outline of his rounded backside, as he  
dipped a toe into the water.  
 
 
Instantly, Frodo looked back at the ranger with a huge grin on his  
face, his eyes crinkling. "You were right, Aragorn. It *is*  
delightfully warm!" With that, Frodo took a few more cautious steps  
and sunk down up to his chest in the water, closing his eyes and  
arching his head back against a rock with a low moan of pleasure.  
 
 
Tearing his eyes away, Aragorn began divesting himself of his own  
clothing. He first removed his weapons---laying down his sword, his  
dagger, and his smaller knife on the rocks near the far edge of the  
spring, well within his reach if some unexpected Enemy came up.  
Although, the ranger admitted to himself, Sauron could turn up at the  
pool and Aragorn would likely not budge if Frodo were in his arms.  
 
 
Pulling his boots off, Aragorn began to unlace his tunic, stopping  
for a moment when he caught site of two blue eyes gazing at him from  
the edge of the spring. The ranger laughed softly as he removed the  
last of his upper clothing, revealing his bare chest, and watched the  
huge eyes grow even larger.  
 
 
Frodo finally spoke. "Aragorn . . . I would help you unlace your  
breeches, were it not for my injured hand." 
 
 
"Ah . . . I would have enjoyed that, Frodo. If I ever see Gollum  
again, he will be lucky if he escapes with his soul intact, much less  
his life." Aragorn continued to work at his leggings, finally pulling  
them off and throwing them aside, now totally nude.  
 
 
Frodo gasped slightly. Aragorn's body was beautiful---toned and  
sleek, his broad chest, covered with a smattering of hair, tapering  
into narrow hips and long legs. And in the middle of it all, his  
erect member---glistening and huge, as Frodo had known it would be.  
 
 
Seeing the hobbit's eyes turned into saucers, Aragorn laughed. "Well  
Frodo, what do you think now? Does my foulness still outweigh my  
fairness, or do you think you can stand me?" he teased.  
 
 
Frodo blushed again. "Hmmmph. You will never let me forget that, will  
you? Well . . . . let me say that I take back anything I *ever* said  
regarding your . . . foulness. On the contrary, I find that I . . .  
might have a difficult time staying on my side of the pool." The last  
was said in a rather breathless voice as Frodo's eyes followed the  
ranger as he walked toward the water.  
 
 
"And I did not keep my earlier promise not to look, either, so we are  
even," Aragorn said. Gingerly, the ranger stepped into the pool,  
sighing as he felt the warm water envelop his body. It was indeed  
pleasant, and the bottom of the spring was thick sand---neither  
grossly muddy nor painful to his feet.  
 
 
Once immersed waist-deep, Aragorn turned to the hobbit soaking at the  
edge. Frodo's eyes were closed and he looked utterly relaxed. For a  
moment, Aragorn cursed the water that held the hobbit's nude body  
hidden from him. Then he realized he must not pressure, and strode  
out further into the pool, immersing himself deeper, until the water  
was up to his chest.  
 
 
They sat just that way for a few minutes, simply taking in the warmth  
and comfort and trying not to stare at each other across the pool.  
After a while, Aragorn grew restless and decided to wade about and  
explore the hot spring a bit more. 
 
 
Hearing slight splashing noises, Frodo opened his eyes and spotted  
the ranger standing under the cascade of the tiny waterfall, letting  
it soak his face and hair. Watching him, Frodo gulped and tentatively  
began to work his way toward the waterfall, but stopped with dismay  
when he realized the water would be over his head. And as the hobbit  
had not had good experiences with water lately, he decided to stay  
put.  
 
 
"Little one," Aragorn called, seeing Frodo hesitating at the edge of  
the spring. "Will you come with me and enjoy the deeper water, where  
it is even warmer? It is very pleasant to stand under the cascade and  
let it soak your face and hair." 
 
 
The hobbit's face fell and the rosebud lips trembled slightly. "But I  
cannot, Aragorn . . . it is too deep, and I do not think I should  
like to go in water over my head."  
 
 
The ranger laughed softly. "That is why I said `come with me.' Never  
fear, I will hold onto you."  
 
 
Aragorn made his way over to the hobbit, standing in front of him for  
a moment in the water, as they gazed at each other silently. Then  
Aragorn broke the silence, "Frodo," he urged, holding his arms  
out, "put your arms about my neck."  
 
 
"Aragorn, somehow I do not think we're staying on our own sides of  
the pool anymore." 
 
"No, we are certainly not, are we? Damn our earlier decision to do  
so." 
 
Frodo clasped his arms about the ranger's neck, clinging to his broad  
chest, as Aragorn waded backward into the deeper water. And Aragorn  
did not think he imagined that, despite the serenity of the hot  
spring, both he and Frodo were breathing quite a bit faster than  
normal.  
 
To be continued