Not Quite the End of ... 2 The Long Road Home

Title: Not Quite the End of All Things 2/3: 2: The Long Road Home

Author: Squigglesquared

Pairings: (Deep Breath!), Actual – Frodo/Merry, Sam/Pippin. Implied – Frodo/Aragorn, Merry/Eowyn, Sam/ Faramir, Pippin/Faramir. (Whew!!)

Feedback: Yes please!! I thrive on it!!

Rating: NC-17

Warning: Het allusions! Graphic sex! Yay!

Archive: If you like them. Just let me know where.

Summary: The hobbits are on the last leg of their journey home. They rest a night in a quiet wood, swapping tales of lovers lost and lovers missed. They share food, strong wine, memories, and each other.
Author’s note: This one sort of wrote itself. Acts as a linking piece between “King In Waiting”, and “The Parlour Game”

Disclaimer: The characters are not mine, never will be, but I LURVE havin’ fun with ‘em!!! Sorry Mods: I own no part of the LOTR universe, neither the stories nor the characters. I make no money from this tale.


2: The Long Road Home

Early evening. The sky is darkening, the sun setting redly in the West. The night promises to be mild with no rain. Trees and woodland surround four tired hobbits walking four tired ponies.

They are two days out from Rivendell. Slowly wending their way back along the Great East Road, Weathertop can just be made out on the horizon, in between gaps in the trees. They leave the Road a little way, walking on soft, springy grass, hearing nothing but the hunting call of an owl, the trickle of water, and the breeze in the branches overhead.

Merry sees a likely spot and pipes up, “I think we can camp here tonight, it looks sheltered enough. I think I hear running water close by”. Sam tied the ponies together on long reins, as the others unloaded their packs.

Pippin scouted the ground around and began to gather wood. He collected a reasonable pile, and set to work building a fire.

Sam busied himself with pots and pans. Merry helped with food preparation and fetched water. Frodo rolled out the bedrolls at the base of a large tree. Between the roots would accommodate two hobbits each.

After completing their tasks, and a fine repast of stew, they all flopped on the ground around the fire. The mood was somewhat subdued amongst the four. None of them felt particularly inclined to chatter, and they smoked their after dinner pipes in silence, each absorbed in his own thoughts.

Frodo broke the silence, “I don’t know what this mood is that has come over us all, but I reckon we could all do with a little cheering up”. With that, he rose, made his way to the packs and rummaged in his own. He returned carrying a sealed jug. Uncorking it he poured everyone a generous cupful. “I was sent this up, while I was ill in Minas Tirith. It is a special blend reserved for the steward’s, and now the King’s, household”.

They drank, tasting the finest mead, but with an indefinable something just beyond the knowledge of their palettes. Pippin giggled, “I don’t know if I feel better or worse. I want to laugh, but I may burst into tears instead”.

Frodo threw some more wood on the fire. He gazed into it, thinking hard. He said in a low voice,” I think… that we are all missing someone this night, someone close to each of our hearts……perhaps we need to drink and tell of these things… it may help… I don’t know…”, his voice trailed away.

Merry said, his voice sounding a little trembly, “I will go first, if I may have a little more…?”, he held his hand out for the jug. Frodo passed it to him, noticing his cousin’s eyes were wet. Merry poured and drank, swallowing hard. As he felt the wine coursing through him, he allowed himself a small smile. “There is a lady in my thoughts. I know.. I know…. don’t laugh. I never even had a remote idea…”
The tears that had welled, spilled. He took a deep breath, “…..that she thought of me…. that way”.

“She had always stood up for me, helped me arm myself, rode with me into battle. We were two people that, supposedly should not have been there, she, as a woman, and me, well, as a ‘too small’ person”. Merry sneered slightly at the memory, more tears falling. “Then we smote the Witch-King between us. You should have seen that”, Merry stared into the fire, then looked around at his companions, smiling, despite his tears. “It was about the only thing we had in common, that we had, at different times maybe, been both struck with the Black Breath, the only ones deliberately left out of the battle….our perceived weaknesses turned out to be our biggest strengths”, he smiled ruefully.

“After the battle, you know I was taken to the Houses of Healing thanks to Pip. I was in the next room to my Lady. Her injuries were far worse than my own, so I took to keeping her company during her long swoon. I would sing her bits of hobbit songs, tell her tales”.

“Afterwards, when she finally awoke fully, she thanked me. She had heard every word, but they seemed from the far end of a long tunnel. When she felt a little more restored, she sent for me, for she would have me tell my own tale. I went to her chamber, and she bade me sit. Food and drink were brought. I remember some wine. It loosened my senses somewhat”, Merry looked down and blushed, “I will admit, I opened my heart to her. She had not been privy to counsel concerning the Ring, and quizzed me at length for what I knew. As this was after the event, so to speak, I gave her all the knowledge I had, such as it was. But there was something else….. we had been through so much….together. I… we laughed and remembered the battle, for the first time without pain, we could at last laugh…”.

His voice became small , “We sealed a warrior’s bond. We joined”, he flushed, bravely continuing “We…. I… She…. I will always remember her kisses, her hands on me, that beautiful hair, her…breasts, her cool white throat”. Merry’s voice was filled with longing, his eyes staring at a spot beyond the fire. “She and I spent just two wonderful nights and one glorious day….”. He looked around again, “The Lady Eowyn it is I miss tonight. What of the rest of you?”. Merry wrapped his arms about his pulled up knees and laid his head down, weeping.

Frodo poured himself a fortifying cup of wine. “The person I miss tonight, I think you all know”, he swallowed several gulps. The warmth crept through his veins. “Aragorn…Strider”, he added softly “It seemed that everyone knew…”, he smiled sheepishly, looking down. “I had no idea… I thought we were being discreet”. Frodo gulped some more wine. “At first, he simply kissed me when he knew no-one was about, in the Houses of Healing”. Frodo’s face brightened at the memory.

“ The first night after we were brought to Minas Tirith, I was having nightmares and he comforted me. That first night, we spent in chaste slumber”, he laughed, “although I knew he wanted me. He held me, stroked my hair, while I had my bad dreams”.

“ It was after the feast…”, his voice faded, the memories returning, “he found me in the bath. I had..erm…taken care of myself. I was asleep…. He came upon me…. “, he glanced at Sam, “Sam left some of his famous salve outside my door”. He looked really bashful and fell silent. Pippin spoke, a little breathless, “Then what?”. Frodo uttered a low moan. “He has experience… but not in all ways….. I took him. I wanted….. to teach him. I somehow knew he was a giver, not a taker….I could not believe my ….cheek….my audacity,….my luck…...but wanting to have him ….it was so strong. …. I took him… he had never been taken before”. He chuckled softly at the memory. “ We had three amazing days and three …”, he paused, his voice throaty, “incredible nights”. Frodo sank his head into his hands, laughing and crying all at once. Between his fingers, he muttered, “He it is I miss tonight, I have tried so hard not to. I knew his destiny, so did he, but if only…if only I could….”, his voice tailed into sobs.

Merry moved over to his cousin, and threw his arms around him. They cried together. Pippin spoke next. “I think Sam and I are in agreement here, we are missing the same person”. Frodo and Merry looked up. Sam had his arms around Pippin, and nodded as the others’ eyes searched for his. “Aye, it seems the same person ‘as wrought ‘is…..magic on the pair of us. At diff’rent times, you understand. We are both missin’… Captain Faramir”.

Merry had only met the man briefly, at the feast, when Pippin had introduced them, but Frodo remembered with less charity, his interrogation by Faramir. .He was quite surprised at Sam, who had undergone the same treatment at the man’s hands.

As if he read Frodo’s thought, Sam said, “It were the night of the feast, I ‘ad been partakin’ of the particularly fine ale. Lord Faramir apologised for his behaviour, most courteously, beggin’ your pardon, Frodo. ‘e sat me by ‘im, askin’ me about Shelob, of all things. Well I filled ‘im in, like, you know, what ‘appened, and, well bless me, the nex’ thing I know, we’re ‘eading for my chamber, an’ I sort of lost the bit in the middle, if you take my meanin’. That ale were awful strong, nothin’ like the Green Dragon’s. Any’ow, nex’ thing I know, we were rollin’ around like pups on ‘eat….. ‘e was real gentle, when it came to it, like”, Sam’s voice faded, he was grinning. “We spent that night and the next together. We ‘ad all sorts of fun”.

Pippin spoke, his head on Sam’s shoulder. “Faramir gave me his uniform. That of the tower guard. It was given to him as a boy. He was terrified. His father was so hard on him. Denethor had always favoured Boromir, I think Faramir reminded his father of his dead wife”, Pippin sighed, swallowing tears. “He …he would have made a better protector for you Frodo, he had more strength….more mettle than his older brother. I…I have the feeling that he should have been the one on this quest. He was no soldier, although he tried his best, but he thought and cared deeply about stuff, if you understand me.”

“It was before his futile last trip to Osgiliath. Denethor challenged him. He was evil, you had to be there”. Pippin’s eyes filled with tears ,”I saw it all. I wanted to run after him. I knew his father was insane. He was sending his now only son to certain death! The look of hopelessness in his eyes……”. Pippin’s head bowed, tears falling. Sam passed him a cup of wine, he drank deeply.

“He came to me”, Pippin murmured, at length. “I was brooding in a quiet corridor, he sat beside me, his bitterness and anger were plain to see. “Why didn’t the bastard just run his damned sword through me and have done”. He was weeping. I put my arm around him. My heart went out to him. I offered him what comfort I could… He took me right then and there, …..over that marble bench….he hurt a bit. After he had finished, he was so apologetic, he was concerned that in his anger, he had caused pain….. he had, but I didn’t mind. He carried me to his own quarters, laid me in his bed, and made love to me again, this time slowly and with real passion”. Pippin’s eyes closed at the thought. “He had a lot of tenderness in him….little things he did……”. Pippin swallowed hard and smiled weakly.

Sam rubbed Pippin’s back. Pippin sighed and looked into his friend’s face. “Sam”, he whispered. “Mmm”. “Did he do that wicked thing with your lower lip, the little biting thing?”. Sam nodded. “I think so, drove me nuts, as I recall”. “A bit like this?”. Pippin pulled Sam closer. They kissed. Pippin nipped and sucked at Sam’s bottom lip, eliciting a groan. “Arr, somethin’ like that, or maybe more like this”, he gently pushed Pippin down into the grass, their mouths locked together again.

Merry looked at Frodo, his eyebrows raised. Frodo’ s eyes blinked languidly, as he returned the gaze. Looking away briefly , he poured more wine for them both. He passed Merry his cup. Merry closed his hands around Frodo’s. “Stay with me tonight, Merry, neither of us should be alone”. Merry giggled, ”I don’t think I could just lie there listenin’ to those two, not without some relief”. Their foreheads touched. They laughed softly. Frodo rose, extending his hand. Merry took it and allowed Frodo to pull him up. The look of invitation on Frodo’s face made Merry gasp and catch his lower lip with his teeth. “Let us play together, and leave these two to their games”. Frodo’s voice was low and hoarse with desire.

He led Merry over to his bedroll, and taking him in his arms, kissed him long and hard. His hands roaming down Merry’s back and clutching his bum. With a mounting sense of urgency, he pulled Merry toward him, grinding their hips together, their erections rubbing each other through cloth. Merry moaned, his neck arched, .Frodo sank his mouth to the upturned throat, sucking hard. Their hands were fumbling with each other’s clothes, there was a tearing sound as Merry dragged Frodo’s shirt over his head. They giggled. Merry collapsed on to the blankets, tugging at Frodo’s hand. Frodo fell on top of him. They kissed again, fumbling and laughing, until both were naked, their clothes cast carelessly away

Frodo glanced back toward the fire. Sam and Pippin were perfectly silhouetted against the light. Pippin was on all fours, his legs spread, his backside lifted high into the air. His head rested on his arms, he was biting his knuckle. Sam knelt behind him, his cock in one hand, his other in the small of Pippin’s back. Frodo nudged Merry, his eyes straying back. The two of them watched

Sam eased his cock into Pippin. Pip’s little face screwed up in ecstasy. He took a deep breath, as Sam slid all the way in. Leaning over Pippin’s back, Sam reached around for Pippin’s cock, grasping it firmly, and began pumping in time with his own thrusts.

Their breath came fast and hot, Pippin making little cries. Frodo could see Sam was close to orgasm. He was driving hard now into Pippin, his face contorting, his head thrown back. Pippin pushed his back against Sam’s chest. Sam held them tightly together, sweat beading his brow, eyes glazed with passion, the rhythm of his thrusts quickening. Pippin’s head lowered, his back arched into Sam. He grimaced, eyes squeezed shut. “Sam… Yes… Don’t stop now… please…Take me…have me.….”. A long loud cry, and Pippin came into Sam’s hand, shuddering and laughing.

They were still a short while, while Pippin got his breath back a little. “Pippin”, Sam whispered, “Come up onto all fours, just for a moment, I’m nearly there meself”. Pippin moved as requested. Sam still deep inside him, until his arms were braced beneath his shoulders. Sam could kneel up then, for more leverage. He gripped Pippin’s hips tightly, and plunged in and out mercilessly, his balls bumping Pippin’s cheeks, he gasped, “ O Pip… O… I cannot stop now…I….I’m coming..coming….”. One big thrust, and he shot his joy deep into Pippin.

Frodo and Merry exchanged a long look. Their eyes were bright, cheeks flushed, arousal written on their features. “I do not think they knew that they were giving us such a fabulous show”, Merry chuckled. “No, indeed, and now…?”. Frodo let the question hang between them. They moved together and kissed. Their hands roaming over back, chest, belly. Frodo moved his mouth over Merry’s chest, nipping and suckling at his nipples. Merry moaned, his head thrashing about. Frodo continued to bite and kiss his way along Merry’s body, placing a tickly lick or two in Merry’s navel. With a fluid movement, he was kneeling between Merry’s legs, taking Merry’s cock in one hand, pulling the foreskin back, to reveal the swollen head. He regarded the weeping tip, licking his lips, and, leaning forward removed the gleaming bead with his tongue. Merry gasped, sinking his hand into Frodo’s hair, tugging a little. Frodo looked up, relishing the look on Merry’s face, and teased him some more with tiny licks and nibbles to that sensitive tip. “Frodo, please… I can barely take any more… I want you… I want you now!!”. “So you shall, lover, so you shall. Be patient”.

Merry moaned, and cried out in frustration. Frodo just smiled. He loved to watch his lover’s face, gauge the reactions of his ministrations. He loved to see the passion, the abandon, the sheer wantonness of a lover past the point of composure, when reason fled, and need and desire were all that were left.

Frodo wet two fingers, making Merry watch him slide them lasciviously in and out of his mouth. Merry watched through lidded eyes.
“Would you like me to turn over?”, he whispered.
“No, I want to see your face”. Frodo grabbed the nearest garment, wadding it into a cushion. “Lift up a minute”, and slid it beneath Merry’s hips. He parted Merry’s thighs, lifting his legs so Merry’s feet rested flat. He licked his fingers again, and, not breaking eye contact, slid them as far into Merry as they would go. Merry groaned, crying out. He tensed around the fingers. Pleasure followed pain across his face. Frodo withdrew, just a little, then plunging in again to the knuckles, feeling the little hardness deep inside. Merry writhed, his groin lifting to drive Frodo deeper. “Gods!! Frodo…Now…Now”

Frodo withdrew his fingers, he licked his palm, and wet his shaft, making himself ready. He lowered himself over Merry, guiding himself carefully in. He drew in and out slowly a few times. Merry was tight about him. He felt Merry relax, and pushed hard. Merry gasped, as Frodo’s hard length filled him. Frodo began to rock. He could feel the tip of his cock touch Merry’s sweet spot.
“Hold me Merry”. Merry’s hands wrapped around Frodo’s back. Leaning on one elbow, Frodo reached behind him and shifted Merry’s hand to his buttock. Merry got the idea, and the other hand gripped the other cheek. “Hold me open”, Frodo murmured, “Pull me into you”. Merry needed no further encouragement.

Frodo lowered his mouth and took a swollen nipple in. Gripping Merry’s shoulders, he pushed again, and again. He could feel Merry’s hardness between their bellies, his balls tightened, as Merry’s breathing quickened, a rivulet of sweat running into his hair. Merry’s hands tightened around Frodo’s arse, pulling the cheeks apart, his head thrashing, his back arching .With a strangled cry and clenched teeth, Merry came in gushes between them.
Frodo felt hot stickiness, his desire raging. He was so near. He gasped, as he felt Merry’s fingers enter him. “Yes, like that…more…more”, he pounded into Merry, losing himself in his lover’s heat, filling him, bigger and bigger. His eyes squeezed shut, his face twisted. He could not stop now, even if he wished to. A long low moan, a few more fevered strokes, and he came, shuddering, deep into his lover.

Collapsing forward onto Merry’s chest, Frodo could feel the fluttering of their hearts, the shakiness of their breaths. Merry’a arms moved over his back to clasp loosely around his shoulders. He felt Merry sigh deeply. He looked down. Merry’s face was a picture of serenity. He slowly withdrew himself, smiling, noting Merry’s wince as he did so, and rolled off to one side. He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at Merry’s spent smile, laughing softly. He kissed Merry tenderly. “That, Master Brandybuck, was amazing”. “Speak for yourself, Baggins”. Merry laughed aloud, ”We never did it like ‘that’ when we were ‘tweens!”.

Easing the shirt out from under him, Merry wiped them both down. “Lucky I have a spare in my pack”, he grinned. He rolled Frodo toward him, holding him close, looking into his eyes. “Thank you Frodo. My bad mood of earlier tonight is quite gone”, he murmured. “Mine too, thanks to you”. Merry reached up and brushed a stray curl from Frodo’s damp face. They kissed, long and sweet. Gathering Frodo to him, he laid Frodo’s head on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms about him, covering them both with bedding. He kissed Frodo’s hair, mumbling unintelligibly. Frodo nuzzled against Merry’s chest feeling warm and drowsy, soon soft snores issued from his slightly parted lips. Merry peeked across Frodo. Sam and Pippin were deeply asleep in a jumble of bedding curled tightly together. Merry smiled, feeling his lashes droop over his tired eyes, he laid his cheek in Frodo’s hair,and with a small contented sigh, slept.


Finis

Continued in “The Parlour Game”

written August 2005