Larrkin (larrkin2) wrote,

Go On (1/1) - fanfiction

I'm still working on some multi-chapter stories, but I'm sorry to say that my writing time seems to have become more and more limited. This little ficlet is something of departure for me. You'll see what I mean. If it isn't to your liking, please ignore it. It's just for fun, not really part of my canon. Le Muse wanted to play with it a while back, so I wrote it and tucked it away. But, what the heck. Here it is.

 photo GoOn_zpsqmi9s6th.jpg

Sam encourages Frodo to comfort himself.

For my patient, awesome readers. Thanks for your loyalty.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This story is not meant to violate the rights held by New Line, Tolkien Enterprises, nor any other licensee, nor is any disrespect intended. I don’t own Tolkien’s original characters, however, my OC’s, Gwinthorian, Garrick, Devon and several other Rangers are exclusively my own.

Go On (1/1)
by Larrkin

"Go on, Mister Frodo."

"Sam, no," I whispered.

"Go on. No one can see you under our blankets here. It's private. Just a'tween you and me. 'Sides, Gandalf is on watch and the others are all sleeping. No one will know."

Sam lay snuggled up against my back. He drew his fingers through my curls, trying to lull me, but I just . . . "I can't."

"Go on," he murmured in my ear. "I know you want to."

"Sam, I can't. It's been less than a week since the Fellowship left Rivendell. I can't start doing . . . that. It's a bad habit and I . . . I'm trying to stop."

"Nonsense. It's not a bad habit. You love it. And it helps you go to sleep."

"Well, yes, but I don't want anyone to know I do it."

"Merry and Pippin already know. They've known for years and years."

"That's different. I don't want all these warriors to know."

"They're right nice warriors."

"They are, but still . . .."

"They won't care."

"I care, Sam!"

"Even if they somehow found out, they'd understand," he said, a grin in his voice. "They'd prolly just think it was cute."

I huffed.

"I think it's cute."

"Sam!" I gave a sound of disgust.

He chuckled low and kissed the back of my head. "No need to make your 'ick' sound at me, love. They're just warriors, and they're all fond of you."

"I don't want to appear weak in front of them."

I really didn't. I already felt inadequate to the task I'd volunteered for in a rash moment at the Council. If even one of these brave, strong warriors found out about this . . ..


Uh-oh. Sam's stern voice.

"I can't let you say that, Frodo."

And he'd dropped the 'Mister.' Yup, my Sam was Serious.

"It's got nary a thing to do with weakness. None of this calling yourself weak. Understand?"

"But, you don't think it would reflect poorly on me if they knew that I . . . that I . . .."

"'Course not." Sam scoffed. Quietly. We were supposed to be asleep. "Why, I never heard of anything so silly. Besides which, Strider already knows."

My face flushed hot. "He does not."

"Does, too."

"Does not!"


"Blast it, Sam! Why do you think so?"

"Just makes sense. After Bree? When we were on the way to Rivendell? Strider stayed up all night watching over us. He likely saw you do it then."

"Oh, nooo."

"Or heard you."

"Oh, nooooo! Sam! You said nobody would know!"

"Well . . . nobody 'cept maybe Strider."

I groaned.

"Shhh, hush now. No need to fuss," Sam said in his firm, tender tone. "He likely thought what I think."

My eyes popped open. "You're saying that Isildur's Heir thinks it's --" I winced. "-- cute?"

"Well, maybe not 'cute.' Adorable, more like."


"Or maybe 'sweet.'"

"Stop." I wriggled, but he chuckled again, his soft puffs of breath warm against my neck.

"All's I'm saying is, it's nothing to feel bad about, my Frodo. No one's like to notice, and even if they do they sure as sunrise won't care. Nary a one in this Fellowship would deny you your small bit of special comfort."

I thought that over. Was Sam right? He usually was right. And he always wanted what was best for me.

"Don't think I haven't noticed what you're doing --" he'd said a little while ago when he'd thrown our blanket over us and curled up behind me, "-- or what you're trying to not do, that is. So we're going to talk this over here and now. I've had enough of you denying yourself, Mister Frodo. It's just not on, and no mistake."

He nuzzled my ear and said, "How does it make you feel when you do it?"

I couldn't admit this to anyone other than my Sam. "It makes me feel like I'm being cuddled from the inside out."

"Awwww." And there was his voice that made my insides go all warm and soft. My Sam has many voices. "Everyone here would want that good feeling for you. You know it's true, dearling."

He hadn't called me that in a long time. My already fragile willpower crumbled further. I did so want to do this! "But what if they hear me? What if they figure it out?"

He reached around, covered my left hand with his, drew it to his lips and kissed my palm. "I reckon they'll think what Strider does, that it's downright adorable."

I blinked. A little grin tried to pull at the sides of my mouth. "Sam. You don't know that Aragorn thinks it's adorable."

"'Course I do." He guided my hand around to my front. "And who knows? Maybe the others'll take it up themselves."

I giggled.

"Can't you just see Boromir--"

I giggled louder. "Sam!"

"Or Legolas? Or how's 'bout Gim--"

"Stop!" Now I was close to a giggling fit.

"Frodo. Sam." Aragorn's voice sailed out of the darkness and under our blanket. Aragorn has many voices, too. This was his 'that's enough' voice.

"Aye, Strider?" Sam called back.

"That's enough."

"Sorry, Aragorn," I said, swallowing down the giggles.

"Must I come over there?"

"No sir, Strider. We'll be good."

"Because if I need to come over there--"

"No, please, Aragorn. You don't need to. We really will be good."

"Very well then. Settle down, both of you. I shan't warn you again. Go to sleep."

"Yes, sir," Sam and I answered together.

"There now," Sam purred in my ear. He squeezed my hand. "You heard him. Settle down. And you and I know what settles you down and makes you sleepy. Of all the folk in this Company you're the one who deserves comfort the most. Leastways, that's how I see it. And there's nary a reason why you should feel embarrassed about doing what helps you. If'n it was me, what would you tell me?"

Well, that was it. And Sam knew it. He could always win a disagreement with me by asking that question. He actually should've just started with that question and saved himself the trouble of the dispute. But sometimes I think Sam likes to make me try to see reason before he decides to win his argument.

"Alright, my Sam," I whispered, rubbing my face against his hand. "You win."

"Awww. There's my sweet Frodo." Sam's rough fingers gentled across my knuckles. He leaned over and kissed my cheek, then he picked up my thumb and touched it to my lips. "Open," he said. I obeyed him, and Sam slid my thumb into my mouth. I closed down and sucked. Mmmm. My limbs melted.

"Ahhhh." Sam wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer. "Thaaat's it. Go on then, love. I want to hear the pretty little sucking sound you make. Helps me sleep, too. Go on, my sweet Frodo. Go on."

And I did.
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