Rating: G
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Summary: Frodo takes care of Aragorn.
Disclaimer: Frodo and all recognisable characters are the property of the Estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. No offence is intended, nor profit made.

Bag End basked in the afternoon sun. Marigolds reached for the blue sky, water trickled in the well, there were brown birches here and there, and ropes of white clematis tangled over thickets of brier roses. Frodo stood, just outside the front door, with his arms crossed, surveying the first signs of spring. Frodo sighed. Neither the bright sunshine, nor the random bursts of color all around would lift his spirit. Frodo slowly turned and returned inside, closing the front door behind him. He made his way down the winding hall to his bedroom, pulled down his coverlets and crawled into bed.

The water had its source on the high crests and hollows of a nearby mountain, in the snow banks that melted and seeped downward through the rocks. The ravine broadened out to a meadow the width of a lark's flight, blossomy and wet. Here the stream that Aragorn had followed ran at once, into a maze of sodden banks. Aragorn's time as a Ranger protecting the Shire had taught him that it was indeed not far to journey from where he sat astride his steed to Hobbiton, for the water was becoming a slender stream. The concern he bore felt lighter with the knowledge that soon he would see Frodo Baggins again.

Since he had met Frodo that fateful night in Bree, Aragorn had accompanied him through many trials, and had cared for him, bearing witness to Frodo's prolonged suffering. Aragorn, being empathetic, had felt himself taking upon the pain of Frodo's injuries both physical and emotional. Aragorn had been unable to sleep for some time. He had woken with a start the week yore. He had endured a dream, or rather a nightmare, the premonition that Frodo had died. Aragorn knew in his heart that night that he had to see him. He made the decision to leave Gondor and to travel to the Shire.

Nearing the border of the Shire, under the light of stars, Aragorn could feel Arwen's bright eyes upon him, and he knew then that her thought was with him. It is your time to be with Frodo. He has done so much for you, for us, and now you must be present for him. He remembered her words urging him to travel to Hobbiton. "Is it his healing that I long for or mine?" Aragorn spoke aloud as he rode. "I will not stop riding until I see him again." There was no lack of good company for him as he traveled. Birds nested in the willows, rabbits came to drink from the flowing stream, and a deer fed in the meadow. Wild bees began to whine among the willows, and the meadow bloomed over with poppy-breasted larks.

"My dear Aragorn!" Frodo cried, throwing himself instantly into his arms when he opened the front door. The man of Gondor who had protected him through so many trials, through evil, through danger, through mountains and snow, the man who had cared for him, protected him, guided him, was somehow here now, holding him. "It is good to see you!" Frodo said delightedly. "I can't believe that you are here! Why forever did you come? Come in!"

"I plan to stay," Aragorn offered, "if I can be of a help to you, Frodo." He would not yet speak of his dream, but allowed himself instead to enjoy the comfort of Frodo's presence and a home cooked Hobbit feast, prepared by none other than Samwise Gamgee. It was a great joy for Aragorn to see the gardener and hero again.

During the warm spring days that followed, Aragorn searched the fields surrounding the Shire, searching for herbs for Frodo's healing. Frodo spent his days writing, as he had for many months, while Samwise busied himself in the garden. Samwise, it seemed to Frodo, was relieved at Aragorn's presence, and the strength it seemed to create in his master. Frodo had noticed that the look of concern, so common of late in his dear Sam's face had lessened. If I'm not being too bold sir, yer seeming to be a bit more of yourself. Frodo spent his days writing, and when he was tired, or his shoulder was particularly aching, he dozed in front of the fire in the study.

It was many weeks later that Aragorn decided to speak to Frodo of his dream. On that night, Aragorn sat in a large wooden chair, the very same one that Bilbo had made for Gandalf, in front of the living room fireplace, taking puffs from his pipe, pondering the depth of the words he felt that he must speak.

Frodo laid his journal and quill on his lap and looked curiously up at the Aragorn. "What is it that you have on your mind?"

"Frodo, you have given everything that you had to give to Middle-earth, and we all will be the worse off when you leave," Aragorn said solemnly into the flames.

"What?' Frodo asked incredulously. "I'm not planning on traveling anywhere Aragorn, anywhere at all," he looked back down at his journal, thumbing through pages though he was reading, but the page on which he stopped was blank.

Aragorn took a puff before speaking again. "Frodo, I have felt you slipping away, in my dreams," he said slowly, truly not wanting to relive the power of his dream or its possible reality.

Frodo sat quietly for a few moments, considering his response. Aragorn had not traveled the distance from Gondor to Hobbiton to wish him well on any vacation. Frodo inhaled in a deep breath. Certainly it was no surprise to Aragorn, or to any Hobbit how sad he had been of late. Samwise was so tender and good to him, as well as all his friends and family.

Frodo felt that he had to speak honestly to Aragorn now, as he had, and not to pretend that he didn't understand his words. He owed him that much. "I feel broken inside," Frodo said softly. "There are some things that can never be fixed, once they're in tiny pieces. I failed. I did not destroy the ring." Frodo's heart beat so quickly now, it pained him, sparking the aching in his shoulder into a flame. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Aragorn, you must listen to me, I failed.," Frodo pleaded.

"No, Frodo, you saved Middle-earth, for all of us, and our kindred to come." Aragorn searched Frodo's eyes for acknowledgment of the tremendous gift he had bestowed upon the world, but there was none in the blue eyes that seemed to pierce his own. "Frodo, it is important for you to understand, for me to say that that your gift, your sacrifice, has indeed healed me." Aragorn smiled kindly at the tiny Hobbit. "Yes, Frodo, I traveled Middle-earth, alone, for years. I grew tired of life. I had lost my faith in men. I was a wanderer without a home. Your bravery, your example gave me a new way to look at life. Like a breath of spring you have been in my life and like a breath of spring you are to me, Frodo Baggins." Aragorn rose, and in much the same way he had knelt before Frodo to swear his allegiance before, he knelt again and took Frodo's hand in his. "I am here with you, and here I will stay until it is time for you to go."

His heart stirred as Aragorn knelt before him, a great king of men offering his friendship, his loyalty, his love, so that Frodo was moved to lay is hand on Aragorn's dark curls and speak words from his heart. "Where ever I go, Estel, know that you shall always - always - be with me."

The End