Bound
“Mr. Frodo, you can’t go crawlin’ back into bed after breakfast!”
“Haaaa, that’s what you say.”
Rose smiled as she followed Sam’s scandalized protests and Mr. Frodo’s defiant mumblings deeper into Bag End. She had a good surprise for both of them or she would never have gone near Mr. Frodo’s bedroom, especially while he was still, stubbornly, in bed. Young ladies do not go into such forbidden places or who knows what would happen? But it was only Master Baggins after all, where was the danger there? Rose peeked inside. Sam saw her immediately and pointed at his sluggard Master. “Rosie, look at him. It’s nigh on ten o’clock and he still has his robe on!” Rosie looked, yes, he was swimming in a red velvet robe and he looked tousled and comfortable and…Rosie shook her head. Young ladies don’t think of such things.
“Rosie?!” Mr. Frodo rose up out of his pillows long enough to verify that she was indeed there, smiling in the doorway. His head dropped again with a sigh. “Go ‘way.” He rolled onto his stomach and covered his head with his arm.
“Aw, Mr. Frodo,” she wheedled, tiptoeing daringly inside his sanctuary. “Look here. I’ve got a whole basket of the Widow Rumble’s Spring cakes, hot from the oven!” Sam startled and was instantly by her side as she lifted the cover of her basket. He chose his and bit in with real pleasure as warm honey-laden steam filled the room. Rose fanned the aroma towards the bed with her free hand. “Get up and have a couple for second breakfast.” Frodo raised his head and peered at her with half-lidded eyes and, my goodness, a more burningly playful look she’d never gotten in her life. Sam choked on his cake and Rosie blushed. Frodo’s expression entertained self-conscious surprise before he covered his head with a pillow.
“No, thank you,” he mumbled. Sam and Rosie shared a glance and began to snicker.
Suddenly reckless, Rosie decided to try again. “C’mon, now, she doesn’t make these every day.”
“I don’t care. It’s the principle of the thing.”
Sam approached the bed and gave the mattress a kick. “Up with you!”
Frodo refused to look at them again. He grabbed the ornate wooden bars in his headboard and held on. “No. And you can’t make me.”
Sam and Rosie looked at each other in sheer delight. A challenge! Rosie dropped the basket and with one shout both tweens leapt at the bed. Frodo screamed and twisted and the fight was on! There was a brief moment of confusion as Rose and Sam tried to pull Frodo out of bed in two different directions and almost snapped him in half. He suddenly surprised Sam with a strong kick, sending him ass over end onto the floor. Sam squawked and gasped for breath. Rose doubled her attack. Frodo’s robe had come open and she could see his bare chest and his under-breeches. They were blue colored. Blushing, she pushed at his shoulder with her fingertips. He almost managed to elbow her completely off the bed but she clutched his collar and regained her balance. “FINE then!” She put the flat of both her hands against his bare chest and tackled him. She could feel the heat of his skin all the way to her toes and laughed at the fun, fun, fun they were having!
She didn’t laugh long. One strong twist from Frodo and she landed on the rug, too. He was much stronger than he looked! “No!” Frodo stood and bounced in the middle of the bed as he grinned at them. His glee faded as both of them began to crawl, like dangerous predators, cautiously but determinedly towards him. He backed up, his hands out.
“Rosie!” Sam gasped. “Wrap him in the covers an’ we’ve got him!”
“No, Rosie! Help me wrap Sam! Let’s get Sam!” Frodo pointed a vengeful finger at his servant.
“Help ME!”
“No, help ME!”
Rosie froze and considered the delightful implications. Helpless Mr. Frodo or helpless Sam? She couldn’t choose! All three were standing on the bed now and Mr. Frodo and Sam were shouting, fighting over her, waiting for the attack. Helpless Frodo or helpless Sam?
“Wrap him up!”
“No, wrap him!”
The solution came to her quickly. “Wrap ME!”
Oops.
She clapped her hands over her mouth and turned to leap away but it was entirely, entirely too late. “I didn’t mean it!” A strong hand yanked her back and down by the sash on her dress. She landed on her back and sank into the mattress. Pinned, she shrieked and laughed and squirmed and fought. She’d yank one hand away from Sam only to have Mr. Frodo catch it again. Twisted sheets slithered over her skin.
“Done!” Sam crowed as he sat comfortably on her legs. Frodo laughed as he tied the final knot in the pillowcase that bound her arms. Rose tried to move and couldn’t. She growled at them both and they chortled with delight. She was helpless, swaddled and pinned under their warm weight and her eyebrows went up. Mr. Frodo leaned over her with a smile. But suddenly his smile faded and he blinked down at her. And then he looked at Sam.
There was a very, very awkward pause.
“I’m…I’m ticklish, Mr. Frodo,” Rosie breathed helpfully and Sam stifled a moan.
Rosie looked at Sam who looked at Frodo who gazed down the length of her and cleared his throat. The tweens waited for him to make up his mind. He wavered and his breath was warm on her mouth. But then he decided and turned his face away. “Er. Well! That was…” he leaned back and began to pick at the knots. “That was fun. Um.” His face became closed as he began to loosen his perfect bindings in earnest. He was red. Sam watched Mr. Frodo’s suddenly determined labor for a moment, then reluctantly moved off of Rose's legs. He dropped his eyes and began to untie her ankles. Her heart sank further and further into her stomach and then she was freed. It was awful. She sat up and her bottom lip began a definite wibble as Frodo retied the sash on his robe tightly and Sam slid completely off the bed and stepped away. Everyone was breathing hard.
Oh, poop.
Frodo paced aimlessly back and forth for a moment, his back to them both, then he spied her cake basket. “Well!” he said again. “I’m up!” Sam and Rosie smiled weakly. Frodo sighed. “Come on. Let’s have second breakfast.” He picked up the basket and walked stiffly out the door.
“I’m sorry, Rosie.” Sam mumbled as he turned to follow.
“Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything!” Rosie snapped.
“Aye, that’s why I’m sorry.” he whispered. Rosie gave out a choked laugh and then he was gone, too.
Rosie got off the bed and straightened her skirts, her lesson well learned. Young ladies really SHOULDN’T go into forbidden places.
The sheer disappointment was murder.
End
~