A first for everything!
Sep. 1st, 2003 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kribbanAnd the first item I get to completely check off my fic to do list! My first FPF ever! And I said I'd "never write FPS" - well there you go. ;-) And it's Frodo/Sam, squee! And Gollum, double-squee!
First I thought: "Yay! A non-squicky fic I can share with all my friends who are squicked by RPS!" And then I realised it's Gollumslash... And then I realised it's BDSM... And then I realised I'll probably never be able to write something that doesn't squick any of my friends. So read at your own risk. BTW, IMHO there is not enough Gollum!fics to go around. But maybe that's because I, according to Malin, becomes more like Gollum with each passing day... *steps off soapbox* Anyway....
Title: Lost
Author: Kristina [k7@telia.com]
Pairing: Frodo/Sam, Frodo/Gollum
Rating: R
Status: Finished 1/1
Feedback: Positive or constructive is most welcome. Complaints about the subject matter are not, read the warnings.
Archive: OEAM, Library of Moria. All others please ask.
Summary: It always hurts when things are lost. Especially if what you lost is pain.
Warnings: BDSM, m/m slash
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. The Lord of the Rings and every recognizable character herein belongs to the Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended. I don’t earn any money with this. No harm intended. Please don’t sue.
Author’s Notes: Wow. It’s finally finished! I decided to write this little vignette… oh seven or eight months ago but didn’t manage until now. It’s based on the bunny-breeding Frodo/Sam/Gollum discussion on the Tolkien_BDSM list in December 2002. Remember that lovely discussion? Well this is my humble contribution. I encourage other BDSM-writers to write something based on that discussion, or the movie TTT in general. Thanks to Elanor for the beta. Dedicated to all the lovely people at Tolkien_BDSM.
Something has died.
Sam doesn’t know exactly when it happened but he knows why. It isn’t hard for someone as in tune with Frodo as he to see that the Ring is claiming its toll on his Master. The change is more evident with each step towards Mordor. Frodo is crumbling under his Burden as Sam crumbles under his.
He’s always been mistaken for the strong one, if not the brightest. Dependable and grounded. Sturdy, steady, stable old Sam. He has to pretend to be strong now, more than ever.
The days are spent trekking through harsh terrain in the footsteps of that vile creature.
The nights… He does not want to think about the nights.
They are changing, as Frodo is changing. He cannot be for Sam what he was before all this, he needs to keep up his strength. Sam understands.
There’s an empty space inside what used to be the old Sam. The void is so tangible he can almost touch it. He already knows what it tastes like. Like salt.
He doesn’t bleed anymore and the feelings are clogging him up inside, like a bottle full of fermenting brew. Stupid little sentiments like annoyance and stress. Emotions he didn’t know he had. He doesn’t bleed anymore and he feels like his heart will break with the loss of it.
Everything changes.
As the Ring strengthens its hold over Frodo his need for Sam changes. They have to switch roles now. Sam understands.
Frodo teaches Sam how to hurt him. Shows him how to use the rope and knife. The void inside Sam swells but he does not let it show. Master needs him now.
He finds himself reminiscing and chastises himself for it. There’s no good looking back at better times, but he does nonetheless.
He thinks of happy days filled with sunshine and friends. Of hard wooden floor beneath his knees and the even blade of the kitchen knife. Of looking up and seeing Frodo’s face. Sam doesn’t think his master has ever been more beautiful than when he was hurting him.
During the days they struggle through the wasteland, praying against all odds they won’t be found. During the nights Sam hurts his Master and Frodo falls asleep in his arms. He always thanks Sam afterwards. Sam understands.
Frodo goes to Gollum. “Smeagol needs me now. He needs me to save him.”
Master still has strength enough for Gollum. Gollum is important, Sam understands.
He’s disgusted by the way the creature wails out its pain each time, how the wailing turns to weeping as Frodo’s scratching becomes thrashing. Sam never wailed.
He doesn’t look as Frodo bends over Gollum. He tries not to listen, he wants to sleep, to think of pleasant things and not about the way it always ends.
The noise will become muffled and Frodo’s hand will have bite marks. The fight will end and the creature will fall back with a keening sob, moaning and snivelling its relief.
“Mass-sster!”
“Good Smeagol.”
Frodo will pet Gollum for a while.
Sam hears sobbing and realizes it’s his own. He wills himself to think about the osier twig that hurt so much it made him cry and the light touch of Master’s fingers on his arm.
Something has died. Sam thinks it might be him.
They struggle through the days and Sam struggles through the nights. In the mornings he tries not to notice how calm and docile Gollum is. Sometimes he catches the creature grinning gap toothily. It’s a repulsive attempt of a smile but Frodo’s eyes light up with the sight of it.
Occasionally Frodo tugs Sam’s hair or presses a hand down his neck. These are small gestures meant to soothe but only serve to fuel Sam’s hunger.
He never knew there was this much hurt in life.
Gollum is marked now. New welts begin to show against the mass of old scar tissue. Patches of red blushes against the grey hide. The creature almost dislocates his sinewy shoulders tracing them. Sam understands him. He is proud of each mark Frodo has given him.
He wraps his fingers tight around the hithlain rope, tight enough to hurt.
Sometimes he cuts himself on the blade, just a little. It isn’t the same.
Frodo seems to understand. “It won’t last forever, Sam.” And Sam hopes. He knows he ought not to but hope is all that keeps him going. Hope that they’ll live through this, that they’ll end up all right and rid of Gollum, hope that one day they’ll be back to loving each other the way they were meant to.
But for now…
He can almost taste Frodo’s guilt. When the ropes untie the tears always fall. Sam will kiss them away. Master is worth it.
It isn’t until Frodo sleeps, the snores of Gollum in their ears, that Sam slips his hand between his thighs, and tracing the thick scars, he closes his eyes and pretends that they are recent.
The End.
First I thought: "Yay! A non-squicky fic I can share with all my friends who are squicked by RPS!" And then I realised it's Gollumslash... And then I realised it's BDSM... And then I realised I'll probably never be able to write something that doesn't squick any of my friends. So read at your own risk. BTW, IMHO there is not enough Gollum!fics to go around. But maybe that's because I, according to Malin, becomes more like Gollum with each passing day... *steps off soapbox* Anyway....
Title: Lost
Author: Kristina [k7@telia.com]
Pairing: Frodo/Sam, Frodo/Gollum
Rating: R
Status: Finished 1/1
Feedback: Positive or constructive is most welcome. Complaints about the subject matter are not, read the warnings.
Archive: OEAM, Library of Moria. All others please ask.
Summary: It always hurts when things are lost. Especially if what you lost is pain.
Warnings: BDSM, m/m slash
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. The Lord of the Rings and every recognizable character herein belongs to the Tolkien estate. No copyright infringement intended. I don’t earn any money with this. No harm intended. Please don’t sue.
Author’s Notes: Wow. It’s finally finished! I decided to write this little vignette… oh seven or eight months ago but didn’t manage until now. It’s based on the bunny-breeding Frodo/Sam/Gollum discussion on the Tolkien_BDSM list in December 2002. Remember that lovely discussion? Well this is my humble contribution. I encourage other BDSM-writers to write something based on that discussion, or the movie TTT in general. Thanks to Elanor for the beta. Dedicated to all the lovely people at Tolkien_BDSM.
Something has died.
Sam doesn’t know exactly when it happened but he knows why. It isn’t hard for someone as in tune with Frodo as he to see that the Ring is claiming its toll on his Master. The change is more evident with each step towards Mordor. Frodo is crumbling under his Burden as Sam crumbles under his.
He’s always been mistaken for the strong one, if not the brightest. Dependable and grounded. Sturdy, steady, stable old Sam. He has to pretend to be strong now, more than ever.
The days are spent trekking through harsh terrain in the footsteps of that vile creature.
The nights… He does not want to think about the nights.
They are changing, as Frodo is changing. He cannot be for Sam what he was before all this, he needs to keep up his strength. Sam understands.
There’s an empty space inside what used to be the old Sam. The void is so tangible he can almost touch it. He already knows what it tastes like. Like salt.
He doesn’t bleed anymore and the feelings are clogging him up inside, like a bottle full of fermenting brew. Stupid little sentiments like annoyance and stress. Emotions he didn’t know he had. He doesn’t bleed anymore and he feels like his heart will break with the loss of it.
Everything changes.
As the Ring strengthens its hold over Frodo his need for Sam changes. They have to switch roles now. Sam understands.
Frodo teaches Sam how to hurt him. Shows him how to use the rope and knife. The void inside Sam swells but he does not let it show. Master needs him now.
He finds himself reminiscing and chastises himself for it. There’s no good looking back at better times, but he does nonetheless.
He thinks of happy days filled with sunshine and friends. Of hard wooden floor beneath his knees and the even blade of the kitchen knife. Of looking up and seeing Frodo’s face. Sam doesn’t think his master has ever been more beautiful than when he was hurting him.
During the days they struggle through the wasteland, praying against all odds they won’t be found. During the nights Sam hurts his Master and Frodo falls asleep in his arms. He always thanks Sam afterwards. Sam understands.
Frodo goes to Gollum. “Smeagol needs me now. He needs me to save him.”
Master still has strength enough for Gollum. Gollum is important, Sam understands.
He’s disgusted by the way the creature wails out its pain each time, how the wailing turns to weeping as Frodo’s scratching becomes thrashing. Sam never wailed.
He doesn’t look as Frodo bends over Gollum. He tries not to listen, he wants to sleep, to think of pleasant things and not about the way it always ends.
The noise will become muffled and Frodo’s hand will have bite marks. The fight will end and the creature will fall back with a keening sob, moaning and snivelling its relief.
“Mass-sster!”
“Good Smeagol.”
Frodo will pet Gollum for a while.
Sam hears sobbing and realizes it’s his own. He wills himself to think about the osier twig that hurt so much it made him cry and the light touch of Master’s fingers on his arm.
Something has died. Sam thinks it might be him.
They struggle through the days and Sam struggles through the nights. In the mornings he tries not to notice how calm and docile Gollum is. Sometimes he catches the creature grinning gap toothily. It’s a repulsive attempt of a smile but Frodo’s eyes light up with the sight of it.
Occasionally Frodo tugs Sam’s hair or presses a hand down his neck. These are small gestures meant to soothe but only serve to fuel Sam’s hunger.
He never knew there was this much hurt in life.
Gollum is marked now. New welts begin to show against the mass of old scar tissue. Patches of red blushes against the grey hide. The creature almost dislocates his sinewy shoulders tracing them. Sam understands him. He is proud of each mark Frodo has given him.
He wraps his fingers tight around the hithlain rope, tight enough to hurt.
Sometimes he cuts himself on the blade, just a little. It isn’t the same.
Frodo seems to understand. “It won’t last forever, Sam.” And Sam hopes. He knows he ought not to but hope is all that keeps him going. Hope that they’ll live through this, that they’ll end up all right and rid of Gollum, hope that one day they’ll be back to loving each other the way they were meant to.
But for now…
He can almost taste Frodo’s guilt. When the ropes untie the tears always fall. Sam will kiss them away. Master is worth it.
It isn’t until Frodo sleeps, the snores of Gollum in their ears, that Sam slips his hand between his thighs, and tracing the thick scars, he closes his eyes and pretends that they are recent.
The End.
