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All he felt was searing pain scorching across his body. He took a chance and looked at the blade being plunged into his shoulder and then up to the face of its master. Nothing in its eyes, the stature of a king brought down to a mindless puppet.
He pulls the ring off of his finger to find Aragorn fighting off the last of them. Sam rushes to his side chanting “Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo, are you alright?” Merry and Pippin not far behind to check on their dear cousin.
His consciousness ebbs and weaves for the next several days. Each rise of the sun brought forth more pain in his chest. His sweat felt like an ooze he couldn't wash off, a stickiness to his skin that had sunk into him too deep. Like tree sap you would try to wash off but would only get on to more parts of your body. Even with the elvish healing that Aragorn had done to him, he felt every twitch and flick of the poison seep into his body.
The rest of the party had done their best to try and soothe Frodo in his pains. Making sure he had water for he was in too much torment within himself to eat. They did their best to travel faster than they had before. The hobbits would try to ask him questions to make the hours pass by faster to which he could only whine and moan at.
It wasn't until the wraiths were upon them and the elf that Frodo would later know as Arwen had made herself known to him that he felt warm again. He couldn't tell if he was dying, if his body had finally given up the fight as Aragorn put him on top of her horse. Bilbo had told him at one point that some believe that a beautiful woman was the transporter from the world of the living to the world of the dead.
“Hold on Frodo. Don’t leave me.” She whispers in his ear. He could feel her voice echo in her chest as he felt the horse sway back and forth, dodging several attacks from the wraiths.
He couldn't help but close his eyes, trying to keep himself calm and conscious as he feels the horse tromp through what he assumes to be a river. He’s barely awake as she mumbles in a language that is familiar but out of his reach now before he feels himself fall. He wouldn't stop falling as everything goes white.
He couldn't move as he moves his eyes from one end of his peripheral to another. A darkly clad wraith approaches him, a heavy cloud of smoke following his every step as the white place becomes darker. The wraith stops in front of him and plunges a finger into his wound as Frodo tries to pull the finger out by its wrist with no avail. The gleaming helmet showed no change in expression as the creature whispered to him. A heavy black language he felt sifted into his heart and flowed through his body in surges of pain that caused him to stay frozen in shock.
“You will never forget this feeling. You may have escaped your fate for now but you are not without scars that mark you. You will walk these lands feeling separate from all until you have sated yourself with another's life force and even then it won't be enough. It will never be enough until you touch him once again, Frodo Bagginsssss.” His last name echos in his mind as he closes his eyes as one final surge waves through him and then nothing.
His eyes feel heavy as he tries to open them against the bright space. The room was tall and obviously not of any hobbitcraft. They had made it to Rivendell sparked his next thought as he felt along his body. Lighter clothes and heavy bandaging around his wound. He didn't even dare to touch it as Gandalf took over his attention. A face he had been hoping to see in Bree had finally made his appearance.
“Frodo thank goodness you’re awake!” the joyous voice makes him turn to see Sam shrunken by a tall arched doorway, his face slightly puffy from what he can only assume is from crying earlier. The hobbit quickly makes his way to his side and clutches his hand. He's warm, so warm. Frodo stops himself from pulling the other into the bed with him to have more of his warmth.
“He has barely left your side since you arrived.” Gandalf smiles at the two. His gleam was enough for Frodo to know he wanted to compliment the resilience of Hobbits once again.
Frodo hears another lighter pair of steps approach the room from the other doorway. A tall elven man cloaked in red with two strands of hair framing his face and ending in ringlets of three. He introduced himself as Lord Elrond and formally welcomed him to Rivendell.
“Now that Frodo is awake, let's all head to the hall and feast.” He smiles, his eyes however shift ever so slightly as he looks at Frodo. The wizard and Sam left the room and he spoke once again to the hobbit as he slowly got out of the large bed. “You understand that it will never heal fully, correct? I’m sad to say that you will carry this for the rest of your life.” He places a soothing hand on Frodo's other shoulder.
Frodo for the first time reaches his hand up to touch the cloth shielding his wound. “The wraith… It spoke to me.” He looks into Elrond's eyes. If anyone were to have an answer to what his dream could mean, he had faith and elf would. “ It spoke to me in my dream.”
Elrond didn't say anything as his face morphed into one of surprise. “It is hard to shake a wraith in your dream. Perhaps Gandalf was correct on the strength of the forest folk. I know not if that will soothe your worries but I haven't heard of such an occurrence, but again you are an incredible outlier for a Morgul knife wound survivor. It was a very close call but you will regain your strength soon.”
It did soothe him for a little while. It soothed him when the warm food seemed to have little taste to it. It soothed him when he took the ring upon his neck once again. It soothed him when the fellowship had made their way out of the only safe haven he knew was on this journey.
Lady Galadriel was more than he ever expected. A staggeringly tall elf woman with long wavy hair that reminded him of wheat the way it glimmered in the light around them. Something about her still brought a shiver down his spine. As she spoke directly into his mind, he thought she might be someone who would know more about his wound.
As the group had been resting for a couple of hours Frodo awoke to the woman crossing his path, her body shrouded in an unnatural light. He followed her down sweeping staircases once again not built for his kind and into a small enclosed garden.
“Your nights have started to become restless, haven't they?” She didn't turn her body but followed him with her eyes deep peripheral.
“How do you know that?” Is all Frodo says. His heart feels lighter, the secretness of this meeting feels like he could spill everything to her. Everything he had tried to keep secret from the rest of the group seemed written on his face to her.
“ I have seen someone like you before. A survivor of being pierced by a Morgul blade. Being so close to being a wraith the body seemed to not have completely stayed the same. A dizziness under the bright sun. A chill from the skin that never goes away, the wraith coming again and again when you do fall to sleep. A blandness to food and…” She looks into Frodo's eyes. “A lust for the warmth of others.”
“N-no… It can’t… I can’t.” Frodo mumbles. “I haven't felt many of these conditions but some have held true right after I awoke from my attack.”
She turns her back to the hobbit and fills a silver basin with water. “As Sauron's power grows stronger I do believe you will start to feel more. Even if Elrond did not fully understand the deepness of your wounds. You have fought and won against the dark forces once, there is hope you can resist them once again.” She pours the water into the basin between them, gracefully lifting it and lowering it. The water inside bubbling and becoming harsher the higher it was from the basin.
“How do you know so much of this curse?” He asks, even Elrond didn't seem to fully understand his woes.
“I have seen it before. A long time ago. One so close to being in the clutches of the dark lord will fight him until they cannot anymore. But you will always be yourself, even when you wish you were not.” Her eyes downcast as she seems to look into the basin and mumble. “There is not much of a future left for me in these lands.” She looks at Frodo once again. “You will always be yourself ringbearer, even when the calls become too much to handle, when the dark lord calls out to you for the ring..”
She arches a finger at the piece of jewelry around his neck. Seemingly finding its way out of his shirt once again. “You have not become a wraith but something else entirely. One that he had named a vampire. While you are not a living corpse, he did give it the best description he could at the time.” The only thing physically separating them was the basin, yet she seemed so far away. Like she was trying to revive another person in her memory as she spoke.
“When you find the one you love it will never be a problem for them. They will help you bear the burden of it all. And then… it will start to feel nice.” She smiles and touches her ring. “Always surprising how many pleasures he left in things.”
Frodo wanted to ask about who she was referring to. Who seemed to take a small gleam from her eyes, to make her feel so distant. But he didn't, somehow he understood her pains.
“There have been tales. That there were some that tasted the blood of the mortal and were able to become who they once were.” She pauses, “But I cannot tell you if that is the truth or not since I have not seen it. I don’t know if there ever has been a future for you like that with the burden you carry.”
Frodo knows she is doing her best to not give his hopes up. He had started to become accustomed to everyone trying to not get his hopes up but put all their hope into him.
“Would you like to see?” She speaks to him in a normal voice for the first time since they had entered this garden, it sounded almost booming.
“See what?”
She peers down at the basin, pouring more water into it.
The cliffs were jagged and uneven as the two did their best to find their footing down the steep slope. Every step they took knowing they were getting farther and farther away from their fellowship.
“I think we should rest here for the night, Mr. Frodo. I only see more and more mountains we have to climb and just the thought of it makes me more exhausted.” The pots attached to Sam's bag make a small jingling sound.
Frodo can't help but smile at the request. Even in monumental moments Sam always found a way to put a smile on his face. “Of course Sam, let's set up a fire.”
“And I’ll get right on makin’ us some supper. I know we can't have all the meals we’re used to but by right I’ll try and make the once we can have so good it makes us forget the others.” He grabs at a small pan from his bag, spinning the handle in his hand.
The dull coals of the fire warmed them as they readied their sleeping rolls for bed. For the first time in a while, they both seemed to fall into a light sleep.
It doesn't take long for Frodo to stir as he usually does. While his body craved the rest his mind always seemed to have other plans. Most nights in the fellowship he would stay awake, keeping watch with Legolas. Occasionally they would share stories and he would help Frodo brush up on his elvish. But there was no more of that, just silence. A silence that could suffocate someone if not broken by the whispers of wind in your ear.
He’s able to make out Sam's frame slowly inhaling and exhaling a few feet away from him. He feels a twinge of something he hadn't before. An urge to go closer, he remembered how warm Sam's hand was when he held it in Rivendell. When they clutched onto each other after Sam had almost drowned. How much strength seemed to surge through him at the other's pressure and life. The hobbit slowly crawled towards the other, making sure his breath stayed steady up and down up and down.
As he got to the side of Sam, he didn't know what to do next. Should he lay beside him? It felt almost awkward to do so knowing most of his body wouldn't be on a bedroll. The feeling of being so tall compared to Sam, almost looming over the sleeping friend. He could do anything now, he could just so easily kiss him as he could plunge sting right into his chest.
Frodo lays beside Sam, most of his body on the dirt around them. He feels Sam's soft breath hit his face. Before he understands it he sees his hand reach out to grab Sam's wrist, feeling along the inner side almost under his thumb. A faint thumping fills his fingers as he feels Sam's heartbeat. He sighs lightly as he feels a warmth run through him. It gives him the courage to muster a small kiss to where his index and middle finger just were on his wrist. The fingers quickly go back to the spot to feel his pulse once more.
He awoke the next morning to several sausages being cooked over a small kindling fire. Back on his own bedroll.
“I didn’t want to wake you till breakfast was ready. It’s been a while since I saw you sleep so well.” Sam smiles down at the meal.
Frodo thanks the other as he tries not to look at Sams wrist come into view from under his shirt as he turns the sausages over with a spatula.
The days had gotten longer with very little time in between them for rest. All three of them knew they would only get closer to Mordor from here. The fear of Osgilliath had confirmed for Frodo that he couldn't do this without Sam. No matter how much he wanted him to leave and go back to the Shire and be able to live a normal life. He knew it would be almost offensive to Sam to ask him to leave now.
Another night had passed and he had barely got a wink of sleep. As he hears Sam murmur and shuffle in his sleep he looks around to see Gollum had left them alone once again. While he didn't show it, Frodo knew that Gollum had changed since he had betrayed him. Something he could only refer to as a chill ran under his skin when he was around, one that he hadn't seen since their first encounter on the mountain where they had to tie him with elvish rope.
His left hand subconsciously moved to touch at Sam's wrist, the thrumming had started to become something Frodo yearned to feel constantly. In the moments he could sleep its all he could dream about, being able to touch it with more than just his fingers. His lips were able to touch at the uninterrupted flow just under his skin. The last time he was able to sleep he remembers how warm Sam's blood had felt in his mouth, how Sam kissed him and Frodo thanked him for the meal. How much he wanted to actually taste it when he woke up and how he couldn't even look at Sam in the face for most of the day as they traveled.
“Mr. Frodo, are you Alright?” Frodo zones back in to see Sam at his side, his eyes looking over his face with worry.
“I’m fine Sam, no sleep again is all.” He smiles at the other but that doesn't seem to relax his nerves.
“No, it's more than that. It’s been more than that for a while now. You don't sleep and you hardly eat but there's more to it now.”
Frodo can’t seem to look at Sam's face. He should have realized there was no way for him to conceal this from him forever.
“Mr. Frodo… have you become somethin’... unnatural?” The question strikes Frodo's heart just as much as it shocks him, making him turn to look at Sam. His eyes are full of something he can't quite place.
Frodo sighs. He doesn't want to lie to Sam, he just doesn't know how to tell him. “The way Lady Galadriel spoke to me of it. It seems I have become unnatural in body, but in mind and spirit, I’m the same as ever. Not that this is helping either.” He holds the ring between the two of them in his palm, like a secret only they could know about.
“I see… Well, I guess that explains a lot.” Now Frodo was confused.
Seeming to take in his reaction Sam continued. “You’ve been keep’n your hood up on sunnier days… not that we have many now n’ days. The eating obviously, and your sleeping habit. Well more like your habit of not sleeping, but you… just seem different. Like you want something.” Sam seems to have gotten it all out in the open now. He wasn't wrong about any of his inklings, but Frodo knew he could fill in some much-needed context for the gardener.
He takes in a deep breath. “I need blood Sam, what lady Galadriel spoke to me of was someone from her past also surviving a Morgul wound but becoming… unnatural as you spoke of. A vampire as she said to me.”
“So those kiddie tales about not walkin’ around at night did have some merit to them after all. I knew my gaffer wouldn't be yankin’ my chain for no reason.” Sam smiles and Frodo can't help but return it. He was always surprised by how much he could look at anything from a perspective he had never thought of before.
Sam suddenly becomes serious taking one of Frodo's hands and placing it on his wrist in a fashion Frodo had become accustomed to doing in secret. “Is this also why you’ve been up to this manner of sleepin’ lately?” He was caught, he had been caught from the beginning. Shame sat in the bottom of his stomach as all he could muster was a nod to the other.
“You know I’d give you anything Mr. Frodo. You just have to ask, even if it's just hearin’ my blood to get you t’ sleep. If it helps ya’ I’m willing to do it. That's much less scarier than walkin’ into Mordor I’ll tell ya that much.”
“You’d give your blood to me?” Frodo looks at Sam as he feels his grip on Frodo's hand on his pulse tighten and his pulse… quicken?
“It feels like I’ve already given much more than some blood for you Frodo. I’d gladly give you it all.”
“Are you sure Sam?” Frodo could feel the hunger he had been suppressing since his meeting with Galadriel in the garden. If Sam had been joking with him it felt like he would unsheath his dagger and take it for himself anyway. But Sam suddenly pushes Frodo back against a tall rock and finds his lap full of the gardener. Sam's knees on either side of his hips. The warmth of the other spreads through his lower half and it feels like his heartrate is picking up for the first time since his attack.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life Mr. Frodo.” Sam holds Frodo's face and meets their lips together. Frodo's hands go to Sam's waist as he quickly pushes into Sams lips. His mind wanted to tear and rip and pull but that all vanished the minute Sam's lips met his. All he wanted now was to kiss him, to have as much of his warmth as Sam was willing to give to him.
Frodo feels a sharp pain in his mouth and pulls back from the kiss. His face feels hotter as his breathing starts to pick up. He can almost hear Sam's heartbeat flow through his ears. He pushes his nose into Sam's throat and licks in a small circle near his adams apple.
“Sam… can I… Please.” Frodo feels his gums pull and rip as his teeth move down into two sharp fangs.
Sam looks down to see Frodo shaking, small streaks of blood coming out of his mouth as the fresh teeth peek through his lips. His heart hurts to see Frodo look so cold under him, knowing he knows exactly how he can help him. “Of course M-Frodo. Go ahead. Just- don’t take too much now.”
Frodo licks at a place to the side of Sam's neck and gives it a small kiss, feeling Sam's blood flow from one side of his body to the other. A lifeforce that Frodo had been wanting to lay hold of so desperately and now could. He feels how Sam's skin pulls as he plunges his teeth into his neck. He hears Sam let out a small wincing groan before he feels a warmth fall onto his tongue. The crimson liquid felt so warm as Frodo lets out a small hum and sighs. He feels himself meld into Sam's flesh as he hugs the other man.
He was about to release when he felt Sam hold the back of his head. It was then that Frodo noticed that Sam was breathing heavily but didn't seem to be in any pain, the exact opposite actually. He pulled back for a second, licking at the wound to help the clotting process before he looks up to see Sam's eyes blown wide and his chest heaving.
“You look beautiful.” Is all Sam can get out, Frodo can only imagine how clean he had been with his first meal as he licks around his lips and still tastes Sam's metallic blood. The gardener leans down to kiss Frodo's lips anyway.
“And you look ravished,” Frodo laughs.
“Do you mind… ravishing me a bit more?” Sam looks off to the side as he sees a faint blush come across his suntanned face. “You biting me was very…” Sam coughs as he looks back into Frodo's eyes. He feels his vest be unbuttoned by the man on top of him as he realizes what Sam is implying. He feels up Sam's sides and swiftly unbuttons the gardener's vest and then his white shirt that he untucks from his trousers. It's then that he notices that both of them are already hard, another deep rush of adrenaline hits him as he unbuttons Sam's trousers with new vigor.
Sam stops Frodo's hand to take off his own shirt and helps Frodo out of his own clothing, his legs still trapped under Sam as he kisses softly at his neck. He feels Sam start to push both of their crotches together to create a pleasant friction as he comes up to kiss him once again. Not as sudden as their first but much more needy. He pushes his tongue into Sam's mouth while his hands find their place at his hips, helping him move against his own hard-on.
He moves his hands from Sam's waist to feel at his pecs and stomach massaging down until he reaches his crotch rubbing softly at the bulge. Frodo feels Sam gasp into his mouth as he finally pulls out Sam's dick.
Sam pulls back from the kiss with a soft “Wait, let me…” as he brought both of his hands to Frodo's fly, trying to undo it as quickly as possible. The focus on Sam's face makes Frodo smile dreamily.
“I love you, Sam.” Frodo bursts out and kisses his forehead. The words felt so right in his mouth. He realizes he has been in love with Sam for much longer than he had ever expected. Before the fellowship, even before the ring had come to him. A simpler time where he would look out his window and see the handsome man working away right outside of his reach.
Sam lifts his head up to kiss Frodo's lips. “I love you too Frodo… Could you.” All the confidence Sam seemed to have been building melted out of him as Frodo waited patiently. A few seconds passed and Frodo took a chance to slowly stroke Sam up and down at a slow pace.
“What do you want Sam?” Frodo teases as he licks his lips. He wonders if Sam had tasted how their blood had mixed in his mouth.
“Could you bite me again?” Sam whines out as he ruts his hips into Frodo's hand.
Frodo feels a heat return to his face as he thinks about the warm liquid gracing his tongue again.
“Woah, you just got a bit bigger.” Sam chuckles as he strokes Frodo making him shiver.
He can’t control himself as he kisses Sam's chest and licks at his nipples as he makes his way up to Sam's neck. He feels Sam grab his own member, now having both of them in his stroke. Frodo blows warm air on the still-fresh teeth indents on the side of his neck making Sam buck against him. Frodo takes both his hands and starts to massage Sam's chest as he licks around the spot of the first bite, small tastes of his blood could still be found, making Frodo yearn for it even more. His hunger pulls in two directions as he moans, Sam quickly picks up the pace as he feels his gut start to twist into a heavy knot.
Frodo bites down once again at Sam's flesh. Two new marks he’s added to Sam's body, these a bit lower than the first. Frodo hears Sam have another guttural moan at the bite. He feels his body seem to meld with Sams, his blood flowing through Frodo like they were one. Sam's adrenaline had linked with his own making them both push against each other. Each uses the other to reach their own high.
He feels himself touching at Sam more and more as he gets closer, the heat in his stomach almost unbearable and he grabs at anything Sam has to ground him. Even the warm blood leaking out of his mouth couldn't stop him from moaning and rubbing himself against Sam's cock. He unlatches himself from Sam's neck to kiss him, saliva and blood mixing together as he feels Sam go rigid against him, his stomach getting hit with another warm liquid as Sam moans into his mouth.
Sam slows his strokes down as his chest heaves. Frodo couldn't help but notice how beautiful he looks. He softly rubs at Sam's back and licks the small trickle of blood that has started to make its way down Sam's chest. As Sam comes back down from his high he has an almost lovestruck look in his eyes. Frodo knew he must be sporting something of the same fashion. In that moment he remembered how painful his dick still was.
Sam seems to then notice Frodo wince a bit. “Oh, am I too heavy on your legs?” It's then that he looks down. “Oh, my head must be in some rag order to forget about you.” Sam looks sheepishly.
Frodo smiles, “It’s alright Sam, I have kept you a bit preoccupied. Be careful though, I-I’m close.” He rubs at Sam's thigh soothingly.
“D’ you mind if I try something new for myself?” Sam asks, ghosting his fingers at Frodo's sides, sending shivers through Frodo.
“Of course Sam, but please hurry.” Frodo didn't want to be pushy but he could feel his stomach pulsing with need. What he wasn't expecting was for Sam to get off of his legs and kneel in between them. He takes Frodo's dick in one hand a leaves a wet kiss at the head making Frodo push the back of his head into the rock behind him.
“Ohhhh Sam, that's wonderful. Please keep going.” He hears his mouth ramble on as he feels his dick inside Sam's warm mouth. He couldn't help but grip Sam's blonde curls as he felt the knot in his stomach snap as he released.
Sam came up to kiss at Frodo's face as he regained his breath. Once Frodo had come back to his senses he found himself holding Sam's face in his hands as he kissed him once again.
“Perhaps Lady Galadriel had a point,” Frodo says as he puts his shirt back on.
“Right about what M-Frodo?” Sam was already buttoning up his vest once again. He noticed him touching lightly at a toothmark not covered by his collar. A faint bruising had already set around the mark, making Frodo feel a bit bad about how forceful he had been while feeding.
“She said that when I found the one I loved, this curse of mine would never be a problem for them.” Frodo finished buttoning his shirt and turns to see Sam's smile holding so much love in it, all of it directed right at him.
“Well, I would have to agree that she had a bit of a point.” He picks up Frodo's vest from where it had been gleefully discarded. “It seems like just another perk than any curse I have heard about in all my years.” He offers the vest to Frodo after shaking some dirt off of it.
Frodo accepts the vest. “Perhaps it isn't a curse after all.” He couldn't keep his eyes off Sam and his newfound set of marks.