Newly Wed
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
1,897
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
8
Views:
1,897
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Shelter
Title: Newly Wed: II. Shelter
Author: Andarta Wildhearth
E-Mail: andarta_wildhearth@adelphia.net
Completed: Ongoing
Characters: Sam, Rose, and Frodo
Pairings: Rose/Sam, Frodo/Rose, Frodo/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Slash: Yes (Hints and character discussion)
Genre: Romance/PWP
Summary: A collection of stories about the honeymoon of Samwise and Rose Gamgee.
Disclaimer: I own none of what I am writing about nor am I being paid for any of it.
In front of the great room fireplace Rose was pulled from her reverie by the sound of her new husband’s laughter as he stood in the partially dark main hallway of the comfortable hobbit hole. He was speaking to Mr. Frodo as the half-light passed golden shadows across the gardener’s face. Sam and Frodo were saying their good-byes as Frodo had made plans to visit his cousins in Buckland (and leave the honeymooners to some privacy in their new home.) Sam’s eyes were drawn to his bride: he looked over Mr. Frodo’s shoulder and his line of vision connected with Rose’s. His attention strayed from his master to his new mistress as he tilted his head for a better view of her and drew in a slow, deep breath.
Frodo knew from the expression on Sam’s face that Rosie was standing behind him. Sam’s hungry look piqued Frodo’s curiosity; he had to see the sight that had so intoxicated Sam’s eyes. Frodo deliberately turned to look behind himself.
There she was: Mrs. Samwise Gamgee.
She stood by the fire with her hand against the slate wall above the hearth and her other arm lightly placed across her middle. Her heavily-lidded green eyes pierced Frodo and then drove into Sam as she slowly skimmed her hand down and across the stones and walked toward them. Sam’s eyes widened in amazement, for in that moment she belonged in the halls of Rivendell.
“By Elbereth, Samwise Gamgee, count your blessings. You are a lucky hobbit,” Frodo whispered as he watched her, a tinge of desire and envy marring his heart.
“I…I…I know, sir,” Sam stammered as Rose walked into the hallway and into better view. The candles in their sconces reflected strangely in her eyes and illuminated her dilated pupils (a look that neither Sam nor Frodo had ever seen in her before.) She came to a stop in front of them, still searching her husband’s and her master’s startled looks.
“Oh my!” Frodo gasped. No one had ever looked at him in that way before, not even Sam. He wondered if anyone ever would or could…
“Um, I um…I think, I will be going now. I am expected to meet Merry and all the Tooks at The Green Dragon to stay the night before setting off in the morning, and you know that Pip just has to have one more ale.” He bent over and slung his pack on his right shoulder.
Sam did not respond…
Frodo chuckled to himself, not accustomed to being so blatantly ignored, especially by Sam. “Don’t you two worry about me, I shall see myself to the door.” He laughed again and shook his head as he walked to the front entrance of Bag End. “I am going now,” he called to them with a grin as he further baited the oblivious couple, “Don’t do anything thatouldouldn’t do…”
He opened the large round door and turned to look back at them once more. They were still staring at each other, only now Sam had pulled his arms arounse’sse’s waist. A trace of jealousy and sadness plucked at Frodo.
“Goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Gamgee,” he whispered to himself as he swallowed hard to keep his emotions in check.
It was Rose who recovered at the sound of Frodo’s voice. With a look of surprise she quickly grabbed her husband’s arms and shook him.
“Mr. Frodo!” she exclaimed as they awoke from their gaze. In one fluid movement she gently left Sam’s arms and snatched the front of her gown. As she lifted the hem of her dress she swiftly walked to Frodo. His arms were extended and he received her in a generous embrace. No words were spoken as they smiled at each other. He turned to leave, but she tugged at his sleeve, diverting him.
Hadn’t she done that same thing nearly thirty years before, when she was only a tiny hobbit-child?
As Frodo turned to see the radiant hobbit-woman that she had now become, Sam stepped up behind his wife, sliding his strong arms around his bride. His chin and mouth came to rest in the crook of her neck with a soft kiss. Frodo thought to himself how truly breathtaking they were together. A trace of envy and sorrow was well hidden behind their master’s smile.
Rose looked intently into Frodo’s eyes as she mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and kissed him on his cheek.
“We love you, Mr. Frodo,” the whispered words hung in the air. He looked at Sam and then back at Rose as he exhaled with a heartfelt sigh and left Bag End.
After the latch on the front door clicked shut, there was silence in the main corridor of Bag End. Sam slowly nestled his face into the back of Rose’s curls and inhaled with a long, slow breath. Her scent inebriated his soul. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and…rose water. The fragrance of New Year’s Night and birthday parties and Yule’s Eve…
But this day was Beltane, the Festival of Passion. A flame had been lit inside of him not unlike the bonfires burning throughout the Shire’s countryside.
“Mmmmm,” she cooed as she tipped her chin upward and enclosed her own arms around his. How tightly his arms had enveloped her. His need had become painfully obvious, but he still shied from pressing to her, doubtful of her potential reaction. Besides that, he and Rose had never made love to each other before…
But sooner than he could finish his thought, she spun around in his arms, not breaking his hold. Her face and breath were against his and her nearness caught him off guard. She brushed her lips across his as her hands moved up to his broad shoulders, resting on either side of his face and neck, the tips of her fingers weaving into his wavy golden hair. She caught her breath. His was the scent of fertile land and morning rain and the autumn wind blowing across freshly harvested fields. At that precise moment her entire life lay before her in this gentlehobbit’s mahogany brown eyes.
At last the elements of the hearth and home, the earth and stars, were one in their nuptial union. Miss Rose Cotton and Master Samwise Gamgee were finally husband and wife.
His was a need that could no longer be overlooked and he made it known to her now by soothingly pulling her body to his own. She felt the hardness of his desire against her as she gasped and pushed her lips to his. How full and smooth his lips were… How gently his tongue explored her mouth… How timid hiss wes were when he drew back and looked at her with one desperate question on his face…
Rose’s gaze was that of a wild cat and a frightened kitten at once as she brought her mouth to his ear.
“Yes, me love,” she whispered, “Yes…”
She felt a sudden burst of movement as Sam lifted her from the floor and cradled her beneath her shoulders and knees, holding her like a sleeping child. Her hands instinctively encircled his neck. She was a light bundle in his arms as he turned and began to walk down the hallway.
Her breath quickened on his neck and ear.
“Oh Sam, it’s finally goin’ to happen,” she swooned as the shadows passed them ae moe moved toward their bedroom.
She regained her composure when she heard the door shut behind them. Sam was standing in their bedroom with Rose in his arms. Their bedroom. The thought made them both shudder in expectation.
“Rose-love, here is our room,” he spoke softly as he squeezed her body to his. “Welcome home, me lady.” He released her legs and gingerly set her feet upon the floor. Her eyes sparkled with an impishly shy smile as she looked around the room and her vision came to rest on the huge bed they would now share. She then looked directly into her husband’s eyes with a question of her own…
His earlier directness with her suddenly transformed into reticence as he broke her stare and looked at the bed. He had never made love to a girl before. Oh, he had kissed many lasses and had occasionally ended up in a breathless session of heavy petting, (even once, long ago, with Rosie) but never had he done what he knew was about to take place between them. There had only been Mr. Frodo. Mr. Frodo was the only one with whom Sam had ever been intimate. And now Sam’s suspicions had been confirmed: Rose had known all along.
His mouth unexpectedly went dry and a wave of uneasiness seized him. Only Mr. Frodo… Sam’s thoughts were fearful, what horrid ideas Rose must be having about him and their master. Would she ever be able to understand why her two hobben hen had needed each other so much over their years together?
Rose became concerned as his face paled. She clutched his arm as he swayed before her. She had to get him to the bed quickly, before he collapsed.
“And I thought that I’d be the scared rabbit,” she gently chided as she sat him on the edge of their bed. Then she realized that he really was anxious, and over something more than just her closeness. “Don’t be afraid,” she spoke as she knelt before him. She reached up and softly brushed a flaxen curl from his panicked eyes.
“Sam, oh my dearest Samwise,” Rose whimpered, tears welling in her eyes at the distant horror she saw in his. “It’s yer Rosie-girl. I’m here now Sam. I’m here with you, me love.” Her small hands clenched at his arms tightly and reassured him. “Be still, Samwise. I’m here to protect you.”
His expression softened and it was as if he had looked at her for the very first time.
He had been thinking of his Mr. Frodo and of how the two of them had discovered love so long ago…then how they had discovered fear and desperate comfort in each other not so long ago. The memories of Mordor and its terrors had engulfed him briefly. Why now, as he sat on a warm and comfortable bed with his beautiful new wife so near did his courage begin to fail him? Why now, in front of this gentle-hearted soul?
Little did he realize that it would be her compassion that would tear down his walls and defenses. He had been the strong one for so long. Sam had finally discovered that it would now be his Rose who would be fearless and strong for him as she saw the reflection of doom retreat from his eyes. At that precise moment, his entire life lay before him in the generous embrace of this humble lady.
The nightmare was over. He had found his shelter. He had finally come home.
Author: Andarta Wildhearth
E-Mail: andarta_wildhearth@adelphia.net
Completed: Ongoing
Characters: Sam, Rose, and Frodo
Pairings: Rose/Sam, Frodo/Rose, Frodo/Sam
Rating: NC-17
Slash: Yes (Hints and character discussion)
Genre: Romance/PWP
Summary: A collection of stories about the honeymoon of Samwise and Rose Gamgee.
Disclaimer: I own none of what I am writing about nor am I being paid for any of it.
In front of the great room fireplace Rose was pulled from her reverie by the sound of her new husband’s laughter as he stood in the partially dark main hallway of the comfortable hobbit hole. He was speaking to Mr. Frodo as the half-light passed golden shadows across the gardener’s face. Sam and Frodo were saying their good-byes as Frodo had made plans to visit his cousins in Buckland (and leave the honeymooners to some privacy in their new home.) Sam’s eyes were drawn to his bride: he looked over Mr. Frodo’s shoulder and his line of vision connected with Rose’s. His attention strayed from his master to his new mistress as he tilted his head for a better view of her and drew in a slow, deep breath.
Frodo knew from the expression on Sam’s face that Rosie was standing behind him. Sam’s hungry look piqued Frodo’s curiosity; he had to see the sight that had so intoxicated Sam’s eyes. Frodo deliberately turned to look behind himself.
There she was: Mrs. Samwise Gamgee.
She stood by the fire with her hand against the slate wall above the hearth and her other arm lightly placed across her middle. Her heavily-lidded green eyes pierced Frodo and then drove into Sam as she slowly skimmed her hand down and across the stones and walked toward them. Sam’s eyes widened in amazement, for in that moment she belonged in the halls of Rivendell.
“By Elbereth, Samwise Gamgee, count your blessings. You are a lucky hobbit,” Frodo whispered as he watched her, a tinge of desire and envy marring his heart.
“I…I…I know, sir,” Sam stammered as Rose walked into the hallway and into better view. The candles in their sconces reflected strangely in her eyes and illuminated her dilated pupils (a look that neither Sam nor Frodo had ever seen in her before.) She came to a stop in front of them, still searching her husband’s and her master’s startled looks.
“Oh my!” Frodo gasped. No one had ever looked at him in that way before, not even Sam. He wondered if anyone ever would or could…
“Um, I um…I think, I will be going now. I am expected to meet Merry and all the Tooks at The Green Dragon to stay the night before setting off in the morning, and you know that Pip just has to have one more ale.” He bent over and slung his pack on his right shoulder.
Sam did not respond…
Frodo chuckled to himself, not accustomed to being so blatantly ignored, especially by Sam. “Don’t you two worry about me, I shall see myself to the door.” He laughed again and shook his head as he walked to the front entrance of Bag End. “I am going now,” he called to them with a grin as he further baited the oblivious couple, “Don’t do anything thatouldouldn’t do…”
He opened the large round door and turned to look back at them once more. They were still staring at each other, only now Sam had pulled his arms arounse’sse’s waist. A trace of jealousy and sadness plucked at Frodo.
“Goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Gamgee,” he whispered to himself as he swallowed hard to keep his emotions in check.
It was Rose who recovered at the sound of Frodo’s voice. With a look of surprise she quickly grabbed her husband’s arms and shook him.
“Mr. Frodo!” she exclaimed as they awoke from their gaze. In one fluid movement she gently left Sam’s arms and snatched the front of her gown. As she lifted the hem of her dress she swiftly walked to Frodo. His arms were extended and he received her in a generous embrace. No words were spoken as they smiled at each other. He turned to leave, but she tugged at his sleeve, diverting him.
Hadn’t she done that same thing nearly thirty years before, when she was only a tiny hobbit-child?
As Frodo turned to see the radiant hobbit-woman that she had now become, Sam stepped up behind his wife, sliding his strong arms around his bride. His chin and mouth came to rest in the crook of her neck with a soft kiss. Frodo thought to himself how truly breathtaking they were together. A trace of envy and sorrow was well hidden behind their master’s smile.
Rose looked intently into Frodo’s eyes as she mouthed the words, “Thank you,” and kissed him on his cheek.
“We love you, Mr. Frodo,” the whispered words hung in the air. He looked at Sam and then back at Rose as he exhaled with a heartfelt sigh and left Bag End.
After the latch on the front door clicked shut, there was silence in the main corridor of Bag End. Sam slowly nestled his face into the back of Rose’s curls and inhaled with a long, slow breath. Her scent inebriated his soul. She smelled of vanilla and cinnamon and…rose water. The fragrance of New Year’s Night and birthday parties and Yule’s Eve…
But this day was Beltane, the Festival of Passion. A flame had been lit inside of him not unlike the bonfires burning throughout the Shire’s countryside.
“Mmmmm,” she cooed as she tipped her chin upward and enclosed her own arms around his. How tightly his arms had enveloped her. His need had become painfully obvious, but he still shied from pressing to her, doubtful of her potential reaction. Besides that, he and Rose had never made love to each other before…
But sooner than he could finish his thought, she spun around in his arms, not breaking his hold. Her face and breath were against his and her nearness caught him off guard. She brushed her lips across his as her hands moved up to his broad shoulders, resting on either side of his face and neck, the tips of her fingers weaving into his wavy golden hair. She caught her breath. His was the scent of fertile land and morning rain and the autumn wind blowing across freshly harvested fields. At that precise moment her entire life lay before her in this gentlehobbit’s mahogany brown eyes.
At last the elements of the hearth and home, the earth and stars, were one in their nuptial union. Miss Rose Cotton and Master Samwise Gamgee were finally husband and wife.
His was a need that could no longer be overlooked and he made it known to her now by soothingly pulling her body to his own. She felt the hardness of his desire against her as she gasped and pushed her lips to his. How full and smooth his lips were… How gently his tongue explored her mouth… How timid hiss wes were when he drew back and looked at her with one desperate question on his face…
Rose’s gaze was that of a wild cat and a frightened kitten at once as she brought her mouth to his ear.
“Yes, me love,” she whispered, “Yes…”
She felt a sudden burst of movement as Sam lifted her from the floor and cradled her beneath her shoulders and knees, holding her like a sleeping child. Her hands instinctively encircled his neck. She was a light bundle in his arms as he turned and began to walk down the hallway.
Her breath quickened on his neck and ear.
“Oh Sam, it’s finally goin’ to happen,” she swooned as the shadows passed them ae moe moved toward their bedroom.
She regained her composure when she heard the door shut behind them. Sam was standing in their bedroom with Rose in his arms. Their bedroom. The thought made them both shudder in expectation.
“Rose-love, here is our room,” he spoke softly as he squeezed her body to his. “Welcome home, me lady.” He released her legs and gingerly set her feet upon the floor. Her eyes sparkled with an impishly shy smile as she looked around the room and her vision came to rest on the huge bed they would now share. She then looked directly into her husband’s eyes with a question of her own…
His earlier directness with her suddenly transformed into reticence as he broke her stare and looked at the bed. He had never made love to a girl before. Oh, he had kissed many lasses and had occasionally ended up in a breathless session of heavy petting, (even once, long ago, with Rosie) but never had he done what he knew was about to take place between them. There had only been Mr. Frodo. Mr. Frodo was the only one with whom Sam had ever been intimate. And now Sam’s suspicions had been confirmed: Rose had known all along.
His mouth unexpectedly went dry and a wave of uneasiness seized him. Only Mr. Frodo… Sam’s thoughts were fearful, what horrid ideas Rose must be having about him and their master. Would she ever be able to understand why her two hobben hen had needed each other so much over their years together?
Rose became concerned as his face paled. She clutched his arm as he swayed before her. She had to get him to the bed quickly, before he collapsed.
“And I thought that I’d be the scared rabbit,” she gently chided as she sat him on the edge of their bed. Then she realized that he really was anxious, and over something more than just her closeness. “Don’t be afraid,” she spoke as she knelt before him. She reached up and softly brushed a flaxen curl from his panicked eyes.
“Sam, oh my dearest Samwise,” Rose whimpered, tears welling in her eyes at the distant horror she saw in his. “It’s yer Rosie-girl. I’m here now Sam. I’m here with you, me love.” Her small hands clenched at his arms tightly and reassured him. “Be still, Samwise. I’m here to protect you.”
His expression softened and it was as if he had looked at her for the very first time.
He had been thinking of his Mr. Frodo and of how the two of them had discovered love so long ago…then how they had discovered fear and desperate comfort in each other not so long ago. The memories of Mordor and its terrors had engulfed him briefly. Why now, as he sat on a warm and comfortable bed with his beautiful new wife so near did his courage begin to fail him? Why now, in front of this gentle-hearted soul?
Little did he realize that it would be her compassion that would tear down his walls and defenses. He had been the strong one for so long. Sam had finally discovered that it would now be his Rose who would be fearless and strong for him as she saw the reflection of doom retreat from his eyes. At that precise moment, his entire life lay before him in the generous embrace of this humble lady.
The nightmare was over. He had found his shelter. He had finally come home.