Fodder, five

[gilascave]

Probably the last one, unless I get inspired again.


"Hey, Frodo," Legolas said, not moving from his position.

"Yeah?"

"I was just thinking." Legolas fell silent once more.

"Yeah?" Frodo prompted, though from the sound of it he wasn't any more eager to carry on a conversation as Legolas. Aragorn was surprised either of them was awake.

"The Ring," Legolas finally said. "Thought of a way to get it off?"

"Nah."

They fell silent again, and Aragorn glanced over. Neither had moved, and they bothlooked as lifeless as only the truly relaxed could look. Or the actual dead, but given they'd just had a conversation, albeit short, Aragorn was fairly sure they weren't.

Pippin shouted, in the distance, but none of them looked up until, a few minutes later, he shouted again. The shout was louder, much closer. Aragorn glanced up and saw Sam, Merry, and Pippin, running towards them. No one stirred.

The three hobbits collapsed in the sand beside Frodo, who lifted his head and faced them. "D'you mind?" he asked.

"Sorry." Merry laughed, and scooted away to where he was no longer dripping onto Frodo. He looked around at their group, and asked, "Where's Gimli?"

"Oh, you know Gimli," Gandalf replied, sitting behind Frodo and Legolas. Aragorn glanced back, and couldn't even tell if Gandalf had opened his eyes at the commotion of the three hobbits returning from the ocean. The brim of his pointy hat was pulled down to shade his face, and nothing moved except his mouth as he said, "Muttered something about dwarves not being sunbathers. We told him he could set up an umbrella, but then he started on about sand on his ax and on and on. We left him indoors."

"Oh. Too bad -- the water's great!" Sam nudged Frodo. "You sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm surprised you're back so soon," Frodo replied, sounding amused. "You've only been out there all morning."

"We were hungry!" came the unsurprising reply, from Pippin. "Any sandwiches left?"

Aragorn felt that -- what with nearly everyone present, and some vague resemblance of coherency showing, he ought to get them focused on their whole reason for being here. He propped himself up on his elbows, and squinted against the sunlight. "Frodo -- you know we really should do something about the Ring."

The hobbit glanced over at him. "I will." He continued to lie there, in the sun.

"Shaving didn't work," Gandalf pointed out. "Which I don't quite understand -- Pippin, you said that Merry binds himself up all the time."

"Yeah, but I shave myself *first*," Merry told him, accepting a paper wrapped sandwich from Sam, who was handing them out to everyone who would take one. "Piece of cake pulling it off freshly shaved skin."

"Ah." Gandalf nodded.

From behind him, Aragorn heard Boromir clearing his throat. Aragorn closed his eyes. "Freshly shaved? You wouldn't..."

Merry grinned, and stood up. Stripped as he was for swimming, they could all see quite clearly, including Aragorn who peeked and immediately regretted it, that he hadn't in fact been shaved, for a couple of weeks. "Did you want to--" was as far as he got, before Boromir had leapt up and hurried over. He picked Merry up and slung him over his shoulder, then turned and ran up the beach.

"Good grief," Aragorn muttered.

Legolas gave him a lazy smile. "As though you haven't got a fetish or two hidden away."

Aragorn glared. "This isn't about my fetishes. This isn't even *supposed* to be about sex. We're here to throw The Ring into the volcano and destroy it. Remember?"

Frodo frowned at him. "I'm going to. Soon as..well, the tape will get old and brittle eventually, and tear right off." He gave Pippin and Sam a doubtful look. "Won't it?"

"I don't know, Mr. Frodo," Sam shook his head. "I taped up an old rake handle, once, and it stayed on tight for years."

Frodo and Sam looked down at Frodo's groin. He was tanning nicely, Aragorn noticed, though soon he'd have to flip over. Aragorn glance down at himself, and realized he wasn't the only one. He rolled over now, while he was thinking about it, and lay his head down on his arms.

"Maybe we could...." Sam began. His hand hovered right above the strip of magic cloth.

"If you pull that, Samwise Gamgee, I'm not going to have sex with you ever again."

Sam pulled his hand back. "Well, I just thought -- one quick yank, and it'd be all over."

"You want to yank something?" Frodo suggested in a completely different tone of voice.

"I'm all covered in salt and sand," Sam told him. "Let me run up and shower first?"

"How about I come up and shower with you?" Frodo stood up, picking up his towel and giving it a swift shake.

"Frodo," Aragorn interrupted them. "The Ring?" They really had to get it destroyed. Soon.

The sun felt *so* good on his back. He wondered if he could get Legolas to put some of that oil on him, that Gandalf had said would prevent burns.

"What if we do it tomorrow, or the day after? There's a virgin sacrifice scheduled for tonight, anyhow. We don't want to get in the way." Frodo was already heading up the beach, Sam right behind him.

"Besides, it's a really long hike up the side of the volcano," Sam put in. "We wouldn't want to start so late in the day."

Aragorn sighed, and waved his hand. "Whatever."

The two hobbits ran up the beach. Aragorn closed his eyes.

They'd been on the island for almost four weeks, now, and he knew that they had to get the Ring destroyed before too much longer. Tomorrow was certainly soon enough -- except they'd been invited to a luau, by the friendly, under-dressed natives. Well, there was always the day after -- except they wouldn't be getting up early, the morning after a luau, would they? Aragorn didn't want to hike up a volcano with a hangover, that was certain.

The day after that, though, was the weekend, and he knew none of them would want to go anywhere near the volcano. Monday they'd be resting up after the weekend - so, Tuesday. Sounded good. Aragorn made a mental note. Tuesday, volcano. Destroy Ring.

Now, though, he wanted a nap.

He suddenly heard another shout, and jumped when something hit him in the back. Pushing himself up, he saw what had hit him. Growling softly, he sat up, picked the ball up, and tossed it back, hard, towards the group playing volleyball down the beach. "Damn Uruk-Hai," he muttered, and lay back down again.