Shelter (implied Frodo/Strider) PG
Nov. 11th, 2011 05:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
moit_ficsTitle: Shelter
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
moit
Pairing: implied Frodo/Strider
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: PG
Genre: H/C
Warnings: implied slash, slight theft of canon-to-AU, character injury
Summary: slight AU, mid-quest, pre-Weathertop the Hobbits and Strider hit a snag when Frodo trips and hurts himself. Thankfully, Strider is a well-versed Healer.
Word Count: 883
Author's Note: This is dedicated tolovethosehobbit and claudia603 as a late birthday present to both of them. Hope you guys enjoy!!
The underbrush was too deep; Frodo never saw the hole until his foot stuck in it, sending him face-first into the mud with a cry and a sickening crack! The Hobbits rushed over to help him.
“Strider!” Sam called. “His ankle! I think it’s broke.”
When Strider got to them, Frodo was moaning and clutching his foot. It was already beginning to swell.
“I’ll have to set the bone,” Aragorn said, pushing Frodo’s hands away. “Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?
Sam’s chubby face wrinkled in thought. “Athelas?”
“Kinsfoil.”
“Aye, but it’s a weed.”
“I need you to find me some quickly.”
Sam scurried away and Strider turned to Merry and Pippin. “Can you two hold his arms? Hold him tight, now. This is going to hurt and he’s going to fight me.”
Dutifully, Merry and Pippin each took hold of one of Frodo’s arm. Pippin threaded his fingers through Frodo’s.
“It’s okay, Frodo. We’ve got you.”
Strider took ahold of the slight distraction and quickly snapped Frodo’s foot back into place. Frodo threw his head back and screamed.
Sam reappeared carrying a handful of plants.
“Good work, Sam,” Strider said, taking the Athelas. He ripped several strips of cloth from his shirt and used them to wrap Frodo’s ankle tightly with the Athelas tucked inside. He motioned for Merry and Pippin to release Frodo’s arms and placed a hand on the oldest Hobbit’s shoulder. “Are you still with us, Frodo?”
Frodo’s eyes narrowed and he blew out a breath. “It appears I am with you in body more firmly than I wish to be. All I can think about is the throbbing in my ankle right now.”
“The Athelas should begin to take affect soon. Come, we should find shelter for the night.”
Frodo rose awkwardly to his feet. He limped between Sam and Merry for about five steps before Strider took pity on him. He picked Frodo up in his arms and proceeded to carry him, earning a squeak of surprise from the Hobbit.
“Put me down!” Frodo shouted.
“With all due respect, Master Baggins, if we were to wait for you to hobble your way to shelter, we’d likely be waiting for the rest of the evening.”
Frodo harrumphed, but was otherwise silent.
They found cover in a small cave carved out of the hillside. Strider investigated it first to ensure they were not barging into the home of some creature. Assured they would be safe, Strider ushered the Hobbits inside.
Frodo propped himself up against the stone wall with his injured leg straight out in front of him. The other Hobbits scurried about, helping Strider build a fire. They ate a meager meal and Sam, Merry, and Pippin lay down for the night. Strider stayed awake to keep watch for a while.
Frodo, however, was in too much pain to sleep. As quietly as he could, he eased up onto his good leg and hopped to the entrance of the cave using the wall for support.
“You should be sleeping, little one,” Strider said softly.
“I can’t sleep,” Frodo replied. “My ankle hurts too badly.”
“Let me have a look.”
Frodo lowered himself down onto his bottom and stretched his leg out for Strider’s inspection. Strider carefully unwound the bandages, revealing Frodo’s ankle to be still-swollen, but not completely terrible. He prodded at the skin around the break, earning a hiss of pain from Frodo.
“It will heal, but we should get you to Rivendell as soon as possible.”
“Rivendell? But that’s where the Elves are.”
“Indeed.”
Frodo was quiet for a moment. “Are you an Elf?” He certainly wasn’t expecting the laughter that bubbled out from Strider’s lips.
“No, Frodo, I am not an Elf. I am of the ancient Numenorian Men. I have merely had numerous dealings with the Elves in my years. They will be able to heal you.”
“Sam has always wanted to see the Elves,” Frodo murmured, more to himself than Strider. “Before now, we’ve only ever seen other Hobbits.”
“And? Do you fear the Big People now?”
“Not you,” Frodo said, tilting his head to the side. “You come across rather gruff, but you do not frighten me.”
Strider grunted in reply.
“Have I offended you?” Frodo asked.
“Surely you are unaware that the Rangers of the North protect the lands of Eriador,” Strider said, by way of reply.
“I knew there was more to you than meets the eye,” Frodo said, giving the Man a small smile. He shifted himself against the stone wall and a shiver ran through him.
“Are you cold?” Strider asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.
“I’m fine,” Frodo replied,
Strider sighed, pulling himself to his feet. He pulled off the cloak he wore and wrapped it around Frodo’s thin shoulders.
“Thank you,” Frodo whispered, pulling the cloak tight about his body. The material was thick and warm from Strider’s body heat.
“With your injury, you are more susceptible to sickness from the cold. Is that better?”
“Very much, thank you.” Frodo yawned widely; he was finally growing tired.
“Rest, young Frodo. You are safe here.”
Frodo nodded, his eyelids growing heavy. He didn’t even protest when Strider encouraged him to rest his head on the man’s shoulder. Despite his injured ankle, Frodo slept soundly that night.
Author:
moitPairing: implied Frodo/Strider
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Rating: PG
Genre: H/C
Warnings: implied slash, slight theft of canon-to-AU, character injury
Summary: slight AU, mid-quest, pre-Weathertop the Hobbits and Strider hit a snag when Frodo trips and hurts himself. Thankfully, Strider is a well-versed Healer.
Word Count: 883
Author's Note: This is dedicated to
lovethosehobbit and claudia603 as a late birthday present to both of them. Hope you guys enjoy!!The underbrush was too deep; Frodo never saw the hole until his foot stuck in it, sending him face-first into the mud with a cry and a sickening crack! The Hobbits rushed over to help him.
“Strider!” Sam called. “His ankle! I think it’s broke.”
When Strider got to them, Frodo was moaning and clutching his foot. It was already beginning to swell.
“I’ll have to set the bone,” Aragorn said, pushing Frodo’s hands away. “Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?
Sam’s chubby face wrinkled in thought. “Athelas?”
“Kinsfoil.”
“Aye, but it’s a weed.”
“I need you to find me some quickly.”
Sam scurried away and Strider turned to Merry and Pippin. “Can you two hold his arms? Hold him tight, now. This is going to hurt and he’s going to fight me.”
Dutifully, Merry and Pippin each took hold of one of Frodo’s arm. Pippin threaded his fingers through Frodo’s.
“It’s okay, Frodo. We’ve got you.”
Strider took ahold of the slight distraction and quickly snapped Frodo’s foot back into place. Frodo threw his head back and screamed.
Sam reappeared carrying a handful of plants.
“Good work, Sam,” Strider said, taking the Athelas. He ripped several strips of cloth from his shirt and used them to wrap Frodo’s ankle tightly with the Athelas tucked inside. He motioned for Merry and Pippin to release Frodo’s arms and placed a hand on the oldest Hobbit’s shoulder. “Are you still with us, Frodo?”
Frodo’s eyes narrowed and he blew out a breath. “It appears I am with you in body more firmly than I wish to be. All I can think about is the throbbing in my ankle right now.”
“The Athelas should begin to take affect soon. Come, we should find shelter for the night.”
Frodo rose awkwardly to his feet. He limped between Sam and Merry for about five steps before Strider took pity on him. He picked Frodo up in his arms and proceeded to carry him, earning a squeak of surprise from the Hobbit.
“Put me down!” Frodo shouted.
“With all due respect, Master Baggins, if we were to wait for you to hobble your way to shelter, we’d likely be waiting for the rest of the evening.”
Frodo harrumphed, but was otherwise silent.
They found cover in a small cave carved out of the hillside. Strider investigated it first to ensure they were not barging into the home of some creature. Assured they would be safe, Strider ushered the Hobbits inside.
Frodo propped himself up against the stone wall with his injured leg straight out in front of him. The other Hobbits scurried about, helping Strider build a fire. They ate a meager meal and Sam, Merry, and Pippin lay down for the night. Strider stayed awake to keep watch for a while.
Frodo, however, was in too much pain to sleep. As quietly as he could, he eased up onto his good leg and hopped to the entrance of the cave using the wall for support.
“You should be sleeping, little one,” Strider said softly.
“I can’t sleep,” Frodo replied. “My ankle hurts too badly.”
“Let me have a look.”
Frodo lowered himself down onto his bottom and stretched his leg out for Strider’s inspection. Strider carefully unwound the bandages, revealing Frodo’s ankle to be still-swollen, but not completely terrible. He prodded at the skin around the break, earning a hiss of pain from Frodo.
“It will heal, but we should get you to Rivendell as soon as possible.”
“Rivendell? But that’s where the Elves are.”
“Indeed.”
Frodo was quiet for a moment. “Are you an Elf?” He certainly wasn’t expecting the laughter that bubbled out from Strider’s lips.
“No, Frodo, I am not an Elf. I am of the ancient Numenorian Men. I have merely had numerous dealings with the Elves in my years. They will be able to heal you.”
“Sam has always wanted to see the Elves,” Frodo murmured, more to himself than Strider. “Before now, we’ve only ever seen other Hobbits.”
“And? Do you fear the Big People now?”
“Not you,” Frodo said, tilting his head to the side. “You come across rather gruff, but you do not frighten me.”
Strider grunted in reply.
“Have I offended you?” Frodo asked.
“Surely you are unaware that the Rangers of the North protect the lands of Eriador,” Strider said, by way of reply.
“I knew there was more to you than meets the eye,” Frodo said, giving the Man a small smile. He shifted himself against the stone wall and a shiver ran through him.
“Are you cold?” Strider asked, his eyes narrowing in concern.
“I’m fine,” Frodo replied,
Strider sighed, pulling himself to his feet. He pulled off the cloak he wore and wrapped it around Frodo’s thin shoulders.
“Thank you,” Frodo whispered, pulling the cloak tight about his body. The material was thick and warm from Strider’s body heat.
“With your injury, you are more susceptible to sickness from the cold. Is that better?”
“Very much, thank you.” Frodo yawned widely; he was finally growing tired.
“Rest, young Frodo. You are safe here.”
Frodo nodded, his eyelids growing heavy. He didn’t even protest when Strider encouraged him to rest his head on the man’s shoulder. Despite his injured ankle, Frodo slept soundly that night.
