The Last Day at Rivendell

Sam smiled at Frodo as he got dressed. He wished Aragorn hadn’t said that, and he hoped he wasn’t still blushing. He sat down on the bed next to Frodo. “Mr Frodo, would you like me to help you get dressed?” he asked. Frodo looked so fragile. A hobbit shouldn’t be so thin, he thought.

“Not just yet, Sam,” he said. “Can you help me have a bath later? My hair’s gone all greasy.” He ran his good hand through it, smiling shyly at Sam, thinking of how it had got that way.

“Of course, Mr Frodo”, Sam said, cupping Frodo’s cheek in his hand. Frodo caught his eye, and he took Sam’s hand down, looking at him intently.

“What’s wrong with me, Sam?” he asked

Sam took Frodo’s good hand in both of his, stroking it as he was thinking of what to say. When he was ready, he looked up and met Frodo’s piercing blue eyes.

“You’ve been affected by all the things that have happened to you,” Sam said, and Frodo sort of nodded. “But don’t you worry, Mr Frodo,” Sam said, trying to sound lighter than he felt, “any time you’re scared, or your frightened, or,” he tried to think of the right words, “or anything, I’ll always be here for you, right by your side.” And he took his hand and squeezed it, but he felt so useless somehow.

Frodo smiled weakly. “Samwise,” he said, “come and live with me at Bag End!”

“Oh, I’d like that so much, Mr Frodo", Sam said, and he jumped into Frodo’s lap, sitting on his heels with one leg each side of him, laughing as he kissed him playfully, but he had to jump off quickly as there was a knock on the door. A pair of serving elves came in with the breakfast, and Sam couldn’t help a smile at the sight of real food again.

Sam quickly helped Frodo to some water. He held the glass to Frodo’s lips as he gulped it down fast. Sam smiled as he remembered that this was what he had wanted to do when all their water had run out. He smiled to see Frodo finally quenching his thirst, and then he had to turn away as memories came back of when he had been so dehydrated Sam had thought he was going to lose him.

“Sam,” Frodo said, giving him a start. He had finished the whole glass. He motioned to the glasses in front of them. “You must have some.”

Sam poured himself a glass and drank it down as slowly as his thirst would allow, savoring the cool liquid as it soothed the back of his throat. It even tasted good.

As he put the glass back down he saw Frodo reach over to take a bowl of porridge, but his hands were shaking so much that Sam had to take it from him. “Let me help you,” he said.

Sam sat on his bare heels on the bed next to Frodo and fed him in little spoonfuls. Sam had known he would have to do this, and he thought he would find it embarrassing, but he found it quite sensual. He rested the bowl in his lap so he had both hands free, and he stroked Frodo’s hair at the back of his head as he gently fed him bit by bit. He realized how deeply, and indeed how tenderly, he loved Frodo.

Frodo finished the entire bowlful, and then Sam helped him to some tea. “You must eat now, Sam” Frodo said, concerned.

Sam took some porridge but as soon as he had a spoonful he realized it had gone cold. “Oh, I think I’ll just have some tea and toast, Frodo,” he said. The tea was still hot, and it soothed his parched throat. He took some toast and ate it hungrily. He offered some to Frodo, but he just smiled and shook his head.

When Sam had finished, he took Frodo’s hand, and said, “I’ll just go and ask for some hot water and clean clothes for you. I won’t be long.” He hated the thought of leaving Frodo after what had happened last night, and he cursed himself for not asking when the breakfast was brought in.

“I’ll be fine,” said Frodo, smiling at him. “Don’t worry.”

Sam left, taking the tray with him. He had to cross the dining hall to find some serving elves in the kitchen, and he found Merry and Pippin there. He smiled on seeing them. They had both finished eating, and Merry was holding Pippin’s hand across the table in both of his. They were talking intently, their heads close together. Sam wondered what they were talking about, and he wished Frodo was well enough so that they could sit with them.

Merry noticed him first, and called out to him. Sam greeted them, looking closely at Pippin. He seemed brighter, but there was definitely something different about him, like a kind of sadness hanging over him. However, he looked excited when he said “Aragorn told us we could go home today!”

Sam smiled at the thought of home, even though he wasn’t going home, not really. He was dying to see his dad, and to tell him about Frodo before anyone else did.

“Do you think Frodo’s up to traveling?” Merry asked, concerned.

“I don’t think he can ride,” Sam said. ‘I don’t think he can walk’ he thought, but he didn’t say it. “Maybe we could borrow a wagon,” he said uncertainly.

“I’ll sort something out,” Merry said. Sam noticed dark shadows under his eyes. He looked weary. Sam wanted so much to talk to him, but Pippin was there, and he didn’t know what to say, and besides, he had to get back to Frodo.

“Thanks, Merry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say to him. Sam felt sad as he made his way to the kitchen, and even the sight of so many elves working there failed to lift his spirits.

On the way back from the kitchen, Sam saw Merry and Pippin get up and leave the table. Merry had his arm protectively around Pippin’s waist, and Pippin had his arm around Merry’s. They were both wearing dark trousers and light shirts, and Sam smiled as he thought it was hard to tell where one hobbit ended and the other began.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Mr Frodo,” Sam said, as he walked through the door. “Rivendell’s a big place for a hobbit, but I was as fast as I could.”

Frodo reached his arms out to him. “Oh, come here, Sam,” he said.

Sam sat astride Frodo’s lap while Frodo embraced him. He wrapped his arms around Frodo, and he would have enjoyed the feel of his little body in his arms, but his skin felt cold.

“Oh, Mr Frodo, I should have pulled the blankets up for you,” he said, attempting to do it then and cursing himself for not thinking of it earlier.

“I’m not an invalid, Sam,” Frodo said. He was looking at Sam intently, but his voice was kind.

“I know you’re not, Frodo,” Sam said, stroking the soft skin of his cheek, “but you look exhausted.”

“I feel better for some food,” Frodo said. He looked at Sam, shyly, and smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

Sam kissed him gently. As he melted into Frodo’s arms, he felt Frodo break the kiss and move his mouth closer to his ear.

“How long till they bring the hot water?” he asked

“Long enough,” Sam said, smiling.

Frodo would have chuckled, but he realized his breath was coming short and fast, and it came out funny. He kissed Sam hard, hungrily, urgent now. Sam moaned as Frodo kissed down his neck. He was conscious of Frodo’s nakedness, the feel of his smooth, delicate body. He pushed the blankets off Frodo, exposing him.

Not bothering with the buttons, Frodo pulled Sam’s shirt off over his head, and flung it across the room. Sam felt Frodo’s hand slinking under his waistband, and he helped Frodo pull the trousers from his hips, and he took them off himself, flinging them across the room.

Sam felt Frodo’s naked body against his, and Frodo’s warm, soft lips kissing around his collarbone. He went up on his knees as Frodo kissed his chest, and he gasped as he felt Frodo lick his erect nipple, and Sam could feel he was digging his nails into Frodo’s shoulders. He crouched down as Frodo kissed him again, and heard himself moan as he felt Frodo’s hands, one smooth and one bandaged, grasp his buttocks, his fingers digging in. He felt one hand slip between his buttocks, and he broke the kiss suddenly.

“Sam?” Frodo said, his voice high, his breath coming short and fast.

Sam took the bottle of oil from the side of the bed and took Frodo’s good hand. Frodo was watching him, with a knowing little smile, as he poured the oil into his palm, and then slicked it over his first two fingers. Sam was breathing hard as he felt the smooth, delicate little fingers, the little hard knuckles, imagining them inside him.

He settled himself astride Frodo’s lap, and Frodo drew his knees up and apart, lifting him slightly. Sam moved closer to Frodo, and he gasped as he felt that little oiled hand slip between his buttocks. He felt the slim, delicate fingers slip over his passage, oiling around his little entrance, and he gasped Frodo slipped one finger inside.

Frantic now, Frodo pulled Sam even closer to him and kissed him, hard. Sam could feel his body relaxing as Frodo’s tongue entered deep in his mouth, and he moaned into Frodo’s mouth as he felt him slip a second finger inside.

Frodo regretted that his other hand was bandaged and he couldn’t pleasure Sam, but he whispered in Sam’s ear, “rub against me,” his breath harsh. Frodo felt his own hips begin to rock as he felt Sam’s hardness push into his belly. Sam was so hard it was almost hurting him, and Frodo’s breath came quick and fast as he felt Sam leave a wet, silvery trail across his belly. Sam’s arousal was spurring him on, and he slipped his fingers higher and Sam moaned loudly. Frodo felt a hard little spot deep inside, and he massaged it gently as Sam cried out, louder and louder. Frodo could feel him leaving even more wetness on his belly, and his fingers were burning as he felt so hot inside. He wondered what it felt like to thrust into that warmth, and he realized that he was moaning, too.

Sam arched his back and dug his fingers into Frodo’s shoulders as he felt his fingers deep inside him. Frodo’s hands were so gentle. He could feel himself stretching and opening, relaxing. He was more than ready.

“Frodo,” Sam said, and he moaned as he felt Frodo’s fingers slipping out. He felt open, and somehow empty suddenly. He longed to be filled and stretched again, to feel Frodo inside him, almost as part of him. He was desperate now with longing, as he took the bottle of oil again, and poured it straight on to Frodo’s erect member.

“Sam!” Frodo said, his voice high. He grit his teeth in frustration as he felt the oil drip all the way down, but Sam still didn’t rub it in. He thought he would explode with pleasure as he felt Sam’s strong had grasp his oiled cock. He was tempted to take Sam’s hand, to make him rub and give him pleasure like he had done last night, but Sam was already lining his still-oiled passage up to it, and he heard him gasp as he slid slowly down it’s length. Frodo cried out, a deep, low groan that caught Sam by surprise with its intensity. Sam’s breathing was harsh as he settled down into Frodo’s lap, his full weight making Frodo penetrate him deeply.

Frodo wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders and looked up at him, smiling. “You alright?” he asked.

“Mmmm….” Sam groaned, as he moved his mouth closer to Frodo’s ear. “No wonder you liked it!”

Frodo would have laughed, but he was too aroused. He put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and pulled him down as he thrust upwards, penetrating him deeper.

Sam was surprised to see Frodo so urgent, so frantic, and he let go and let Frodo take control as he thrust harder and harder, faster and faster. Sam squeezed his muscles tight around him to increase his pleasure, and pushed down with each of Frodo’s thrusts. Frodo broke out into a sweat as he thrust so hard and so deep that by rights it should hurt, but Sam was so well oiled he felt nothing but deep, deep pleasure as Frodo kept hitting that spot deep inside him, over and over again. Sam was groaning so loudly the whole of Rivendell must have heard, but he couldn’t help it. He moved his ear closer to Frodo’s mouth and he heard those little high pitched moans again, those ones that drove him mad with desire. He could feel he was wetting Frodo’s smooth little belly, and he heard Frodo shout out again, loud and deep and with a force that surprised him. Sam’s head was spinning as he felt Frodo throb deep inside him, and it took him a while to realize what was happening as he felt hot liquid soaking his tender belly. He was throbbing and throbbing, and it just kept coming, until he and Frodo were both soaked with it.

He kissed Frodo hungrily, and felt Frodo kiss him back, wide mouthed in his sleepiness. He reached between them and rubbed the warm liquid into Frodo’s little belly. He heard Frodo moan in surprise, and felt him stiffen again ever so slightly inside him. He felt Frodo’s little hand snake between them as he did the same, and Sam shuddered as he felt Frodo’s wet hand slip over his still sensitive nipples, and then moaned as Frodo took the wet nipple in his little mouth, licking and sucking the wetness off of it. Sam smiled at Frodo as he got dressed. He wished Aragorn hadn’t said that, and he hoped he wasn’t still blushing. He sat down on the bed next to Frodo. “Mr Frodo, would you like me to help you get dressed?” he asked. Frodo looked so weak. A hobbit shouldn’t be so thin, he thought.

“Not just yet, Sam,” he said. “Can you help me have a bath later? My hair’s gone all greasy.” He ran his good hand through it, smiling shyly at Sam, thinking of how it had got that way.

“Of course, Mr Frodo”, Sam said, cupping Frodo’s cheek in his hand. Frodo caught his eye, and he took Sam’s hand down, looking at him intently.

“What’s wrong with me, Sam?” he asked

Sam took Frodo’s good hand in both of his, stroking it as he was thinking of what to say. When he was ready, he looked up and met Frodo’s piercing blue eyes.

“You’ve been affected by all the things that have happened to you,” Sam said, and Frodo sort of nodded. “But don’t you worry, Mr Frodo,” Sam said, trying to sound lighter than he felt, “any time you’re scared, or your frightened, or,” he tried to think of the right words, “or anything, I’ll always be here for you, right by your side.” And he took his hand and squeezed it, but he felt so useless somehow.

Frodo smiled weakly. “Samwise,” he said, “come and live with me at Bag End!”

“Oh, I’d like that so much, Mr Frodo, Sam said, and he jumped into Frodo’s lap, sitting on his heels with one leg each side of him, laughing as he kissed him playfully, but he had to jump off quickly as there was a knock on the door. A pair of serving elves came in with the breakfast, and Sam couldn’t help a smile at the sight of real food again.

Sam quickly helped Frodo to some water. He held the glass to Frodo’s lips as he gulped it down fast. Sam smiled as he remembered that this was what he had wanted to do when all their water had run out. He smiled to see Frodo finally quenching his thirst, and then he had to turn away as memories came back of when he had been so dehydrated Sam had thought he was going to lose him.

“Sam,” Frodo said, giving him a start. He had finished the whole glass. He motioned to the glasses in front of them. “You must have some.”

Sam poured himself a glass and drank it down as slowly as his thirst would allow, savoring the cool liquid as it soothed the back of his throat. It even tasted good.

As he put the glass back down he saw Frodo reach over to take a bowl of porridge, but his hands were shaking so much that Sam had to take it from him. “Let me help you,” he said.

Sam sat on his bare heels on the bed next to Frodo and fed him in little spoonfuls. Sam had known he would have to do this, and he thought he would find it embarrassing, but he found it quite sensual, and he stroked Frodo’s hair at the back of his head as he gently fed him bit by bit. He realized how deeply, and indeed how tenderly, he loved Frodo.

Frodo finished the entire bowlful, and then Sam helped him to some tea. “You must eat now, Sam” Frodo said, concerned.

Sam took some porridge but as soon as he had a spoonful he realized it had gone cold. “Oh, I think I’ll just have some tea and toast, Frodo,” he said. The tea was still hot, and it soothed his parched throat. He took some toast and ate it hungrily. He offered some to Frodo, but he just smiled and shook his head.

When Sam had finished, he took Frodo’s hand, and said, “I’ll just go and ask for some hot water and clean clothes for you. I won’t be long.” He hated the thought of leaving Frodo after what had happened yesterday, and he cursed himself for not asking when the breakfast was brought in.

“I’ll be fine,” said Frodo, smiling at him. “Don’t worry.”

Sam left, taking the tray with him. He had to cross the dining hall to find some serving elves in the kitchen, and he found Merry and Pippin there. He smiled on seeing them. They had both finished eating, and Merry was holding Pippin’s hand across the table in both of his. They were talking intently, their heads close together. Sam wondered what they were talking about, and he wished Frodo was well enough so that they could sit with them.

Merry noticed him first, and called out to him. Sam greeted them, looking closely at Pippin. He seemed brighter, but there was definitely something different about him, like a kind of sadness hanging over him. However, he looked excited when he said “Aragorn told us we could go home today!”

Sam smiled at the thought of home, even though he wasn’t going home, not really. He was dying to see his dad, and to tell him about Frodo before anyone else did.

“Do you think Frodo’s up to traveling?” Merry asked, concerned.

“I don’t think he can ride,” Sam said. ‘I don’t think he can walk’ he thought, but he didn’t say it. “Maybe we could borrow a wagon,” he said uncertainly.

“I’ll sort something out,” Merry said. Sam noticed dark shadows under his eyes. He looked weary. Sam wanted so much to talk to him, but Pippin was there, and he didn’t know what to say, and besides, he had to get back to Frodo.

“Thanks, Merry,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say to him. Sam felt sad as he made his way to the kitchen, and even the sight of so many elves working there failed to lift his spirits.

On the way back from the kitchen, Sam saw Merry and Pippin get up and leave the table. Merry had his arm protectively around Pippin’s waist, and Pippin had his arm around Merry’s. They were both wearing dark trousers and light shirts, and Sam smiled as he thought it was hard to tell where one hobbit ended and the other began.

“I’m sorry I took so long, Mr Frodo,” Sam said, as he walked through the door. “Rivendell’s a big place for a hobbit, but I was as fast as I could.”

Frodo reached his arms out to him. “Oh, come here, Sam,” he said.

Sam sat astride Frodo’s lap while Frodo embraced him. He wrapped his arms around Frodo, and he would have enjoyed the feel of his little body in his arms, but Frodo’s skin felt cold.

“Oh, Mr Frodo, I should have pulled the blankets up for you,” he said, attempting to do it then and cursing himself for not thinking of it earlier.

“I’m not an invalid, Sam,” Frodo said. He was looking at Sam intently, but his voice was kind.

“I know you’re not, Frodo,” Sam said, stroking the soft skin of his cheek, “but you look exhausted.”

“I feel better for some food,” Frodo said. He looked at Sam, shyly, and smiled. “Thank you,” he said.

Sam kissed him gently. As he melted into Frodo’s arms, he felt Frodo break the kiss and move his mouth closer to his ear.

“How long till they bring the hot water?” he asked

“Long enough,” Sam said, smiling.

Frodo would have chuckled, but he realized his breath was coming short and fast, and it came out funny. He kissed Sam hard, hungrily, urgent now. Sam moaned as Frodo kissed down his neck. He was conscious of Frodo’s nakedness, the feel of his smooth, delicate body. He pushed the blankets off Frodo, exposing him.

Not bothering with the buttons, Frodo pulled Sam’s shirt off over his head, and flung it across the room. Sam felt Frodo’s hand slinking under his waistband, and he helped Frodo pull the trousers from his hips, and he took them off himself, flinging them across the room.

Sam felt Frodo’s naked body against his, and Frodo’s warm, soft lips kissing around his collarbone. He went up on his knees as Frodo kissed his chest, and he gasped as he felt Frodo lick his erect nipple, and Sam could feel he was digging his nails into Frodo’s shoulders. He crouched down as Frodo kissed him again, and heard himself moan as he felt Frodo’s hands, one smooth and one bandaged, grasp his buttocks, his fingers digging in. He felt one hand slip between his buttocks, and he broke the kiss suddenly.

“Sam?” Frodo said, his voice high, his breath coming short and fast.

Sam took the bottle of oil from the side of the bed and took Frodo’s good hand. Frodo was watching him, with a knowing little smile, as he poured the oil into his palm, and then slicked it over his first two fingers. Sam was breathing hard as he felt the smooth, delicate little fingers, the little hard knuckles, imagining them inside him, touching him.

He settled himself astride Frodo’s lap, and Frodo drew his knees up and apart, lifting him slightly. Sam moved closer to Frodo, and he gasped as he felt that little oiled hand slip between his buttocks. He felt the slim, delicate fingers slip over his passage, oiling around his little entrance, and he gasped Frodo slipped one finger inside.

Frantic now, Frodo pulled Sam even closer to him and kissed him, hard. Sam could feel his body relaxing as Frodo’s tongue entered deep in his mouth, and he moaned into Frodo’s mouth as he felt him slip a second finger inside.

Frodo regretted that his other hand was bandaged and he couldn’t pleasure Sam, but he whispered in Sam’s ear, “rub against me,” his breath harsh. Frodo felt his own hips begin to rock as he felt Sam’s hardness push into his belly. Sam was so hard it was almost hurting him, and Frodo’s breath came quick and fast as he felt Sam leave a wet, silvery trail across his belly. Sam’s arousal was spurring him on, and he slipped his fingers higher and Sam moaned loudly. Frodo felt a hard little spot deep inside, and he massaged it gently as Sam cried out, louder and louder. Frodo could feel him leaving even more wetness on his belly, and his fingers were burning as he felt so hot inside. He wondered what it felt like to thrust into that warmth, and he realized that he was moaning, too.

Sam arched his back and dug his fingers into Frodo’s shoulders as he felt his fingers deep inside him. Frodo’s hands were so gentle it was a real pleasure. He could feel himself stretching and opening, relaxing. He was more than ready.

“Frodo,” Sam said, and he moaned as he felt Frodo’s fingers slipping out. He felt open, and somehow empty suddenly. He longed to be filled and stretched again, to feel Frodo inside him, almost as part of him. He was desperate now with longing, as he took the bottle of oil again, and poured it straight on to Frodo’s erect member.

“Sam!” Frodo said, his voice high. He grit his teeth in frustration as he felt the oil drip all the way down, but Sam still didn’t rub it in. He thought he would explode with pleasure as he felt Sam’s strong had grasp his oiled cock. He was tempted to take Sam’s hand, to make him rub and give him pleasure like he had done last night, but Sam was already lining his still-oiled passage up to it, and he heard him gasp as he slid slowly down it’s length. Frodo cried out, a deep, low groan that caught Sam by surprise with its intensity. Sam’s breathing was harsh as he settled down into Frodo’s lap, his full weight making Frodo penetrate him deeply.

Frodo wrapped his arms around Sam’s shoulders and looked up at him, smiling. “You alright?” he asked.

“Mmmm….” Sam groaned, as he moved his mouth closer to Frodo’s ear. “No wonder you liked it!”

Frodo would have laughed, but he was too aroused. He put his hands on Sam’s shoulders and pulled him down as he thrust upwards, penetrating him deeper.

Sam was surprised to see Frodo so urgent, so frantic, and he let go and let Frodo take control as he thrust harder and harder, faster and faster. Sam squeezed his muscles tight around him to increase his pleasure, and pushed down with each of Frodo’s thrusts. Frodo broke out into a sweat as he thrust so hard and so deep that by rights it should hurt, but Sam was so well oiled he felt nothing but deep, deep pleasure as Frodo kept hitting that spot deep inside him, over and over again. Sam was groaning so loudly the whole of Rivendell must have heard, but he couldn’t help it. He moved his ear closer to Frodo’s mouth and he heard those little high pitched moans again, those ones that drove him mad with desire. He could feel he was wetting Frodo’s smooth little belly, and he heard Frodo shout out again, loud and deep and with a force that surprised him. Sam’s head was spinning as he felt Frodo throb deep inside him, and it took him a while to realize what was happening as he felt hot liquid soaking his tender belly. He was throbbing and throbbing, and it just kept coming, until he and Frodo were both soaked with it.

He kissed Frodo hungrily, and felt Frodo kiss him back, wide mouthed in his sleepiness. He reached between them and rubbed the warm liquid into Frodo’s little belly. He heard Frodo moan in surprise, and felt him stiffen again ever so slightly inside him. He felt Frodo’s little hand snake between them as he did the same, and Sam shuddered as he felt Frodo’s wet hand slip over his still sensitive nipples, and then moaned as Frodo took the wet nipple in his little mouth, licking and sucking the wetness off of it. Sam felt he could almost get aroused again as he put his fingers to Frodo’s lips, and Frodo looked at him shyly as he opened his mouth to suck gently on Sam’s two wet fingers, tasting him.

Frodo, shy all of a sudden, turned away and rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder. Sam was conscious of Frodo still inside him, but the way Frodo’s arms were wrapped tightly around his shoulders told him that he didn’t want him to get off just yet. Sam wrapped his arms around Frodo’s shoulders, and rested his chin on his shoulder, his cheek pressing against Frodo’s.

Each was lost in his own thoughts as their breathing fell in time. Frodo didn’t want Sam to move, not now, not just yet. He felt that as long as Sam was there, with his arms wrapped around him, giving him his strength, then nothing, real or imaginary, could harm him.

As Sam felt the warm, soft skin of Frodo’s cheek against his, Aragorn’s words came back to him. ‘Only one who loves him with all his heart could heal him.’ Sam moved his head slightly to steal a glance at Frodo. His eyes were closing, he was starting to doze. Sam kissed his cheek, and he murmured sleepily. Sam was overcome with love for him as he rested his chin on his shoulder again and held him gently in his arms. Frodo looked peaceful and calm, and a tiny hope grew in Sam’s heart, like the smallest candle lit in the darkest room, that maybe, just maybe, the healing had already started to begin.