Testing The Waters

by

Poncing Ponies

Frodo woke to find Faramir bending over him. For a second old fears seized him and he sat up and shrank away.

"Have you something to fear from me?" whispered Faramir, his eyes glittering in the moonlight. Frodo rubbed his eyes and shook his head.

Faramir helped Frodo up and gestured to the mouth of the cave. "There is a matter on which I much desire your counsel. Will you come?"

"Yes," Frodo was glad that Sam was asleep, there was a wicked eagerness in Faramir's demeanor that stirred Frodo's thoughts. And should Frodo be in danger, he wanted Sam to be spared of the knowledge.

They walked past rows of Faramir's sleeping soldiers and out a stone curtain, bejeweled with natural crystals; it was dim enough that Frodo had to hold the Captain's sleeve to navigate the slippery stairs. They came to a pool, enclosed on three sides by shimmering rock and on the last side there was a cascade.

"The Forbidden Pool," said Faramir. "We do not allow strangers to enter here unbidden. But Ithil shines so valiantly tonight I thought you might like seeing it."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Frodo saw a quicksilver splash in the water which was too loud for a fish and too big for a frog.

"You woke me for the view? You are playing games, I am too far away from the Shire to have the heart for it. What is it that you want, Captain?" Frodo quickly sat down on the damp ground, drawing Faramir's eyes away from the water to himself.

Faramir followed suit reluctantly, this was unexpected.

"A moment's beauteous calm before the war?" Faramir began to say, but the Hobbit was regarding him with such a clear blue gaze that Faramir began to muse to himself that indeed, what could he want now but forgetful sleep? Perhaps the wise-eyed Hobbit knew. "Will you tell me why I have called you here then, Frodo?"

"It is a fair view, except for your men and their sharp arrows, they glint in the moonlight. Call them off and I will," Frodo said, pointing the bowmen out. "And to assure you of how well I know your mind, I will give you a taste of it: you are drawn to me, you cannot take your eyes off me, in the marrow of your bones, you are infested with the desire to take me with you to Gondor. And you do not know why."

This Frodo hissed so low and melodiously into Faramir's ear that the seasoned man waved off the archers out of sheer flusteredness. Composing his flushed face, Faramir muttered as coolly as he could manage. "That is a scandalous way of putting it, it smacks of an invitation."

"Does it?" Frodo looked down into his own lap, where his hands were twitching, longing to twine themselves around a chain and fondle . . . "How strange," Frodo smiled sadly.

"I have changed my mind, I do not want to know my own desires," _for they are likely to be velvet, black_ Faramir murmured what he could and thought the rest in secret. "Tell me what troubles you, to put a melancholy band on your brow and wilt the bloom in your cheeks." _it makes you look, fairer than is safe_.

Frodo watched the Captain's face. Compared to Boromir's lordliness, the air about Faramir was that of a prince. He was thin and handsome, a little like a fox.

"I bear a burden not of my choosing which none can share, I have put my Sam in the deepest of danger and I am imprisoned by your men. I am, as you see before you, a young Hobbit without means of escape, and should I manage it, I am likely to be fleeing to my doom. I see no respite ahead for me, my dreams are haunted by a ghost of your kin, I wish that you would give me comfort, but you gave me threats and this cold, wet seat."

"I do not understand, except what you said about comfort, you would look to me for it? Not your protective little friend?" Faramir asked suspiciously.

"I do not wish to disturb Sam or put on him more than I already have," Frodo said quietly.

"My people, they have many names for your kind," Faramir said, shivering. "One of them is 'Child-folk'."

Frodo looked up, his gaze wide.

"It is martial law in my camp that soldiers who force themselves on one of the Little-folk would be punished by a flogging to the death," Faramir grinned darkly. "I made that order. I will see it enforced."

"But I am more than willing," Frodo implored Faramir. "Let me forget, let me feel your warmth, I am chilled through, I feel barely alive."

"I should not have woken you," Faramir shook his head vehemently, he untangled his legs and pushed back against the rock face, retreating to stand up. "I should not be alone with you."

"Captain!" Frodo called out, crawling forward into Faramir's lap, he pressed his chest against Faramir's. "You cannot deny me!"

Faramir writhed beneathed Frodo's weight, the man balled up his hands into fists and pummeled them against the stoney ground in an attempt to keep them off Frodo.

"You must take me," Frodo brought his perfect cheeks against Faramir's chin and scraped, back and forth. "Here, near, bare, close and thoroughly. Unspoilt, freely. Give me power over you, son of Gondor, perhaps you are brave enough, you may endure."

"What must I do? How do you wish me to do it?" Faramir croaked.

"Do not put your hands on my chest, do not attempt to undress me," Frodo stepped back and simply undid the clasp to his trousers, dropping them to his ankles, Frodo turned and lie face down on the slippery stone platform, hissing as his genitals came in contact with its chilly, clammy surface.

"Just approach me on your knees, you may touch me below the waist, if it helps you," Frodo whimpered, exposed and uncomfortable.

Faramir did, maneuvering himself on thighs and elbows until his covered Frodo's back. "I am here," Faramir said softly, breath caressing the cold tip of Frodo's ear.

"I thought so," Frodo stuttered, Faramir's cock was heavy and long, resting on the cleft of Frodo's arse.

"Are you frightened?" Faramir smoothed his hands over Frodo's plump buttocks. "You need not be. I will be gentle."

"Will you rub it a few times on the outside, just to get me used to the idea?" Frodo asked tremulously.

Faramir did as he was bid and it felt heavenly, softly he asked. "Do you like it, Frodo? Does it feel good?"

Frodo gave a little shiver in reply. Faramir rubbed his hand against Frodo's tender waist, catching a handful of soft fat, his hands moved downward, smoothing over buttocks and spreading them luxuriantly apart. Frodo closed his eyes and mewled against the indifferent rocks. Silence surrounded their moving bodies as if ears were sticking out of the pool and listening for Frodo's noises over the bubbling.

Faramir took his time, his movement languid and indulgent, he rocked rhythmically back and forth, kneading Frodo's back as if plaint dough, threading fingers through Frodo's hair as if calming his war horse.

The sensations were entirely strange, Frodo had never been with a man. He wondered why he was, he thought it might be the ring, once again trying to deliver its bearer into the hands of men; but what difference would this make, Frodo was caught through and through. Frodo thought upon Boromir, who frequented his dreams since Frodo heard of his death, turned marble, gathering dust in a corner of Lord Elrond's council room, in the shadows of the seat of Narsil, blackening with age. But surely, Frodo did not owe Boromir a debt to be repaid in this way.

With a sigh, Frodo shifted and spread his thighs wider.

"So tempting, so delicate, so precious," Faramir whispered darkly, he pinned Frodo's arms to his sides and as he leaned down his cock plunged deep inside Frodo.

Faramir pressed his lips to the back of Frodo's neck, where they nuzzled away the collar and his teeth caught the metal of a chain. Frodo choked, his head jerked up, gurgling, the ring was pulled up against his chin and shining merrily just out of Faramir's sight. Faramir bit the silver chain, cut his lip on it, near garroted Frodo as he chewed it in his jaws, a growl or a grovel crawled out of his throat. Faramir moaned to hear such a sound coming from himself, he thrashed atop Frodo and spent himself.

"Let go now," Frodo hissed weakly.

It took an agonizing moment in which Frodo feared all was lost, but at last Faramir pressed a shy kiss on the back of Frodo's head and gathered himself once again. Whilst Faramir sat with his back against a stone wall, panting as if he had fought an arduous battle, Frodo tucked away the ring.

"I cannot say what came over me, are you injured?" Faramir's face was pale and his forehead beaded with cold sweat. Frodo shrunk away from his outstretched hand.

"I am no worse off than I was before," Frodo lied, pulling on his trousers hastily. "I would like to go back to Sam now."

"Frodo, sweet, fair, pre . . ." Faramir began to say.

"Do not. . ." Frodo scowled intensely. ". . .praise me. We are not courting one another. You need not ply me with those words, I am, as you may have noted, not difficult to seduce."

"Forgive me, I meant to say, if I waited for you here tomorrow night, will you come again?" Faramir asked tentatively.

Frodo regarded Faramir thoroughly and gave a small nod, a gloomy smile curled his mouth. "If that is what your heart tell you to do. If you think you can take it."

Faramir bowed slightly and turned back to the pool, watching the surface break unevenly and listened for the sound of Frodo's feet pattering away. Another splash caught Faramir's eye and the man watched it keenly.

* * * * *

"Is he letting us go?" Sam was up when Frodo returned.

"No," Frodo collapsed wearily onto their bed of soggy straws.

"What did he do, all that time you were alone?" Sam sat up, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

"We talked, mind your own business Sam," Frodo said curtly.

But Sam saw Frodo's fingers trace unconsciously over the reddened line around his neck. Sam turned his head away sharply, rolled with his back towards Frodo and curled up into a ball. Soon Frodo heard a smothered sob.

"I am doing all I can to test the effect of the ring on him," Frodo draped himself over Sam and murmured into his ear. "He is doing very well at resisting its call. I let him come very close to it, but he did not in the end reach out to grab it. I have hope that he will shake off its spell before it is too late."

"Is there no other way? I worry about you Mr Frodo," Sam whispered urgently.

"So do I Sam, but you will see, when the time comes, he will come around," Frodo closed his eyes and pressed his head against Sam's broad back, wrapping his arms around Sam's round belly. "I am so tired, my head spins. Will you hold me?"

Willing back his tears, Sam did so.