HEALING HANDS

Written in 2004 for Claudia's birthday

Frodo took a deep breath of fresh air, and the sweet, living fragrance of trees and grass made him smile. As he lay, slowly growing more aware, he realized that someone was rubbing his right foot in a most delightful way, strong yet gentle fingers kneading and pushing just right. He sighed, and the rubbing stopped suddenly. Opening his eyes, he beheld someone sitting on the bed next to him.

Frodo blinked in confusion and looked around at the open-air pavilion. Majestic green boughs swayed overhead, a warm breeze touched his face, and there was no pain... only peace, and the smiling face above him.

“Good morning, Frodo,” Aragorn said softly, smiling with joy and relief. “Merry said that would be just the thing to bring you all the way back to us.”

“Aragorn...”

“What do you require, Frodo? Are you hungry? Thirsty?”

“Don’t...”

Aragorn leaned close. “Tell me.”

Still not quite awake after his long, deep sleep, thoughts blurred and drifting, Frodo could think of only one thing he required. He instinctively inched his left foot closer to his right, hoping that the fingers would resume the wonderful massage. A low, rich chuckle filled his ears, and both feet were swallowed by warm hands and gently caressing fingers.

Frodo closed his eyes again and sighed blissfully.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered.

HOPE

On LiveJournal, Claudia asked for... a friendship fic between Frodo and Aragorn ... It can be prequest (AU), or it can just be some special moment between them on quest, or post-quest.

Aragorn came across Frodo standing alone by the White Tree, looking troubled.

“What ails you, my friend?” he asked, coming to Frodo’s side. The king knelt, and looked into the hobbit’s blue eyes.

“Aragorn, remember that dream Boromir spoke of? About ‘the sword that was broken’?”

“Of course.”

“I know he was referring to your sword, but...”

“What is it, Frodo?”

“I feel like I’m the sword that was broken,” Frodo sighed. “Once strong and useful, but now...”

Aragorn said nothing, but wrapped his arms around Frodo. He felt the hobbit sag against him, weary and spent, and was honored at having earned this trust.

“We will find a way,” Aragorn promised. “You, too, can be made whole again, my brave friend.” Arwen is right, he realized. She wishes to offer Frodo passage to the West, and we must not delay any longer in telling him. She believes her mother has found healing there, and that Frodo would, as well. He wishes no reward for his deeds, no treasure or title; but this much we can do for him.

“We will find a way,” he repeated softly. “Trust me in this.”

“I do,” Frodo whispered. He rested a moment in the arms of his king, with hope rekindled in his heart.