Seven Heavenly Virtues V:
Justice

Orithain and Rina

January 2004

Disclaimers: Sam, Frodo and everything and everyone else from the Lord of the Rings universe belongs to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien, Alliance Atlantis, New Line Cinemas, Wingnut Films and The Saul Zantz Company. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

~ Justice: fairness, equity, and impartiality ~

"There’s no justice in the world," Sam Gamgee groaned. He was lying flat on his back in the snow, staring up at the pale winter sky and trying to catch his breath. "No justice at all when..." His view was blocked by Frodo’s grinning face and then obliterated completely by another snowball. "When even my own Mr. Frodo gangs up on me with that Brandybuck and that Took!"

Muttering that last to himself, Sam gave a patently false roar and charged up out of the snow, shaking himself like a badger come out of hibernation and hurling snowballs at the other three Hobbits.

Frodo tried to look fearful, but he was laughing too hard. In fact he laughed so much that he collapsed to his knees in a snow bank, blue eyes sparkling up at Sam as he brushed dark curls out of his eyes. "I had to help them, Sam," he giggled. "It’s Merry and Pippin, after all. They need all the help they can get!"

"Hey!" Pippin hurled a snowball at Frodo.

"Are ye saying we can’t take the two of you?" Merry asked belligerently, adding his own volley to Pippin’s.

Sam lobbed a loosely packed snowball into Merry’s face. "Yes!"

"That sounds like a challenge to me!" Pippin crowed, making and throwing another snowball, this time at Sam in defense of Merry.

Still laughing, Frodo staggered to his feet and retaliated.

Sam ducked the missile and quickly packed together several more balls, handing two to Frodo before hurling his own at the other Hobbits. "We’ll see the two of you face down before this is over!" he called.

Merry snorted out a laugh that turned into a cough when one of Frodo’s shots caught him full in the face. "Only if you take us to the Green Dragon!"

"I thought I was the only one you liked to see face down?" Frodo pouted, lashes lowered to hide the laughter sparkling in his eyes.

"Yes, stick to Frodo," Pippin yelled as he threw another snowball. "Merry’s mine!"

Sam stopped, his mouth hanging agape long enough to get himself hit with shots from both Merry and Pippin. "I didn’t mean it that way," he protested, looking to Frodo for support.

"Ahh, but that’s the way it sounded," Merry laughed, ducking an ill-timed throw and lofting one of his own in the air toward Frodo.

"You do look... edible when you blush, Samwise Gamgee," Frodo chuckled, ducking the snowball but not quickly enough. He yelped when it hit him and some of the snow slid down under his shirt.

"Good shot, Merry!" Pippin crowed triumphantly, following up with a snowball that scored on Sam when Frodo’s cry distracted him.

"Of course it was!" Merry called back as he darted behind a tree.

"Mister Frodo, they’re going to be beating us if we’re not careful," Sam hissed, grabbing Frodo by the shoulders and turning him bodily so that the next barrage hit his back and not its intended target.

"But then they’d be pleased with themselves and go home. And leave us alone," he added meaningfully.

"I think they’re plotting, Merry," Pippin whispered, peering through the branches at the other couple.

"Aye," Merry muttered, bending low to the ground and creeping up on the other two, motioning for Pippin to do the same.

Sam’s hazel eyes widened at Frodo’s comment, then he grinned. "That they would. All right, short and sweet then." Turning, he scooped up handfuls of snow, hurling it at anything that moved.

"Sam, I don’t think that rabbit appreciated your snowball," Frodo observed, laughing again.

Pippin suddenly let out a war whoop as he and Merry pounced, nailing both of their friends with snowballs simultaneously.

Shaking the snow out of his face, Sam retaliated as best he could, actually catching Pippin around the waist and tossing him into a snowbank when the youngest Hobbit got too near.

"Hey now, none of that!" Merry called, only to find himself bowled over by Frodo.

"Didn’t want Pippin to miss you," Frodo said sweetly, making sure to keep out of grabbing distance.

"Bullies!" Pippin declared, shifting until he was on top of Merry. "Oh, that’s much warmer. Much better!"

"Never mind that my bottom’s freezing," Merry grumbled good naturedly.

"Well, if you go inside, you can warm it," Sam offered before turning crimson when he realized what that sounded like he meant.

"Stop flirting with Merry!" Pippin demanded, trying not to laugh at Sam’s horror.

"I’m going to think I’m boring you, Sam!" Frodo chimed in.

"I - I," Sam stammered, burying his face in his hands and collapsing in the snow, not wanting to look at any of the others.

"Are you saying that you aren’t flirting with me, Samwise?" Merry asked, sounding highly offended. Sam’s only answer was a moan of horror.

"Oh, Merry, I’m sure he was. After all, who could resist you? Don’t you agree, Frodo?"

"Absolutely," Frodo replied emphatically. "You’re a fine figure of a Hobbit, Merry."

"I wasn’t!" Sam wailed, causing Merry to pout and look pointedly at Pippin.

"Oh dear, I’m going to have to convince Merry of his attractiveness now," Pippin sighed an instant before pouncing on the other Hobbit enthusiastically. His arms went around Merry’s neck, and his mouth covered its opposite as he tried his utmost to show just how attractive he found Merry.

"I think you hurt his feelings, Sam," Frodo observed blandly.

Sam snorted and shook the snow out of his hair. "I don’t think Mr. Merry’s mindin’ too much right now," he commented, watching the other couple roll around in the snow together.

"They’re melting the snow," Frodo agreed. "Do you think they’ll notice if we go in and roll around in front of a nice fire?"

"I’m not much for stopping them to tell them," Sam grinned, moving closer to Frodo and brushing the snow from his shoulders and back... and lower. "They might decide to come in and join us."

"Good point. So let’s go in and have tea and get warm while we wait for them to notice they’re alone out here." Frodo laughed as he looked down at the younger Hobbits. "Though it may be a while."

Sam looked down at the other pair as well, and he shook his head as he and Frodo started toward Bag End. "If either of them freezes off anythin’ important, we’ll never hear the end of it."

"They’re both too fond of each other’s important bits to allow that to happen. Besides, Pippin would get hungry long before that could happen."

"Very true, Mr. Frodo," Sam laughed, holding open the gate and then the door as they trudged inside, hanging their cloaks on the pegs in the mudroom to dry. "Now you just sit there by the fire, and I’ll make us up some tea," he ordered.

"Sam, I am perfectly capable of boiling water," Frodo said with fond exasperation. "I have no intention of sitting here while you’re busy."

Sam folded his arms over his chest and looked at Frodo sternly. "You can be warmin’ up that blanket we curl up together under, all right?"

"I thought I was supposed to be in charge here?" Giving up, Frodo sat down with the blanket and through the doorway watched Sam bustle around the kitchen.

"You’re Bag End’s master, Mr. Frodo," Sam answered mildly as he stoked up the fire and swung the kettle over it. "Of course you’re in charge."

"Of course I am," Frodo repeated dryly. "That’s why I always end up doing what you want, my Sam."

Sam stuck his head around the kitchen doorway, looking wounded. "Now, I only want the best for you, Mr. Frodo."

"You’d wrap me in this blanket and put me on a shelf if I’d let you. Fortunately, I have ways to distract you."

"Not on a shelf," Sam protested. "In bed mayhap..."

"I like the sound of that. Tell me more," Frodo purred.

Sam flushed and tugged at his shirt collar. "Well then, if you’re to be put to bed, I should get you out of those damp clothes first."

"First we need to lock the door so Merry and Pippin don’t interrupt! Though I imagine they’re on their way back to their own bed."

"They’d best be!" Sam answered, checking on the kettle before padding back into the other room and settling down on the sofa beside Frodo.

"If not, we’ll just ignore them till they go away," Frodo replied, turning toward Sam and raising the blanket to cover him as well as they curled together.

"This is Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin you’re talking about; I don’t think anyone can ignore them when they get on a rampage," Sam commented wryly, tucking an arm behind Frodo’s back and pulling him close.

"Oh, I think I can concentrate on you well enough to block them out... as long as Pippin doesn’t start yelling for food, of course." Frodo chuckled as he shifted half onto Sam’s lap, smiling at him.

Sam’s expression turned bemused, and he nodded, using the motion to nuzzle his face against Frodo’s neck. "He can keep yelling; we’re not going near that door."

Before Frodo could reply, the door banged open, and Merry and Pippin tumbled in. "Did you make tea yet?" Pippin demanded brightly.

"We didn’t lock the door," Frodo groaned, burying his face against Sam’s curls.

Merry snatched the blanket from across Frodo and Sam’s laps and wrapped himself and Pippin in it. "We’re half frozen!"

Sam grumbled and glared at the intruders. "You do have yer own hole to go to if you want to get warm," he stated.

"Yes, but being with friends warms our hearts as well," Pippin replied sweetly, widening his eyes.

Frodo rolled his eyes.

"If we ignore ‘em, will they go away?" Sam asked, turning to look at Frodo.

"Hardly!" Merry laughed, dropping to the floor in front of the fire and settling Pippin in his lap. "Now then, is that the kettle I hear whistling?"

"We’re going to have to feed them," Frodo sighed. "They’re worse than geese! Once you feed them once, you’re stuck with them forever!"

"Yes!" Pippin chuckled. "So where are elevensies?"

"Stray dogs seems a more fit description to me," Sam muttered, giving the other two another hard glare before scrambling to his feet. He snatched the blanket back and gave it to Frodo before stomping into the kitchen to fix the tea and put together a meal.

"I think we’ve vexed Master Gamgee," Merry commented, looking wide-eyed.

"I think we frustrated him!" Pippin giggled, setting Frodo off as well.

"Well then, we’d best be careful he doesn’t drop our tea in our laps to frustrate us," Merry exclaimed.

"No justice in the world a’tal," Sam mumbled to himself as he fixed the tray, carry it in and setting it on the table, then going back into the kitchen for the teapot and mugs.

Frodo started to get up to help Sam, wanting to sooth him, but he realized that would only agitate his over-protective lover even more, so he subsided onto the sofa, sighing. "Love is better than justice, Sam," he called, overhearing the muttered comment.

"Oh, love is the best," Pippin agreed fervently, kissing Merry suddenly as love made him think of the other Hobbit.

"That is is,’ Merry agreed, kissing Pippin back enthusiastically, then feeding him a bit of chicken he’d snatched from one of the plates.

Sam padded back in and poured four mugs of tea before answering. "Right now I’m not agreeing with you, Mr. Frodo."

Frodo batted his lashes at him. "You don’t love me any more?"

Pippin buried his face against Merry’s chest, trying to muffle his laughter.

Sam blinked and reddened. "Now I didn’t say that..."

Merry nicked a chip for himself, eating it to keep from laughing aloud at Sam’s apparent discomfort at the situation.

Frodo pouted.

Pippin giggled.

Frodo tried to hush him but lost his own battle against laughter.

"Oh, Sam," he got out between peals, "I do love you."

Sam sighed and dropped onto the sofa, staring into his mug of tea. "I know, Mr. Frodo."

"I don’t know, Frodo," Merry mused. "I don’t think Sam believes it much right now; I think you need to show him."

"I think you’re right, Master Brandybuck." Frodo disentangled himself from the blanket, took Sam’s tea and placed it on the table, then caught hold of Sam’s shoulders and yanked him down on top of himself. His arms and legs went around Sam, and his mouth closed over the other Hobbit’s eagerly.

"Merry! They’re more exciting than we are!" Unwilling to let that happen, Pippin pounced on Merry.

Sam squawked, the sound cut off when Frodo kissed him soundly. He struggled for a moment, then found himself relaxing and returning the kiss, one hand carding through Frodo’s hair, the other holding him close.

"No, they aren’t, Pip..." Merry’s protest was cut off as Pippin tried to inhale him, not that he minded in the last as was evidenced by his reciprocation.

Frodo moaned happily as Sam’s weight settled on him, pressing him into the cushions. His hands tugged Sam’s shirt free of his trousers, letting him reach up under it and knead the firm muscles of Sam’s back.

Meanwhile, Pippin was wrapped around Merry and sitting in his lap, rocking against the growing erection he could feel beneath him.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam groaned, gasping for breath as Frodo squirmed under him. "Mr. Frodo, we’re in the... Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are here!"

"I don’t think they’ll mind!" Frodo knew he would normally blush even to consider this, but somehow all he could think of was Sam. And he was rather displeased that the same wasn’t true of his lover, so he redoubled his efforts, kissing him hungrily.

"But - but..." Sam gasped before Frodo’s kisses and roving hands drove his protests out of his mind and he began his own explorations.

"Mmm." Frodo rumbled happily, arching his back as Sam petted him. One of his own hands glided down over Sam’s back and beneath his trousers to cup a firm buttock, pulling him closer.

Sam shivered and rocked down against Frodo’s pliant body, feeling the other Hobbit’s hard shaft rubbing against his own, separated only by their breeks and trousers. "Love you," he whispered, rubbing his face against the smooth skin of Frodo’s neck before licking the curve of his ear.

"Love you too," Frodo breathed, his knees sliding higher to grip Sam’s hips, ankles locked together behind Sam. He moaned as they moved, one hand reaching between them to fumbled at their trousers, wanting to feel bare skin but too uncoordinated to manage it.

"Let me," Sam rasped, pulling back enough to get at the ties that held their breeches closed, yanking at them and finally getting them apart, pushing the cloth aside so that only satiny skin was below his fingertips.

Frodo whimpered hungrily when Sam touched him, his hips rising sharply, raising Sam momentarily. He fumbled for the blanket and pulled it over them, vaguely remembering that they should stay covered for some reason, then concentrated on Sam’s hands on him. His fingers moved shakily over Sam’s back, stroking him, then glided forward over a hipbone to brush against Sam’s erection.

Sam gasped and arched his back, loving the feeling of Frodo’s fingers mapping his flesh. He licked the other Hobbit’s ear again before suckling on the lobe, knowing it was something Frodo adored.

Frodo suddenly bit down on Sam’s shoulder to muffle his cry, and he tugged at Sam, urging him to lie down against him as they rocked together. "Please," he gasped, writhing enticingly.

Whimpering in agreement, Sam lowered himself to lie fully against Frodo, groaning at the feel of aroused flesh against his own. He caught Frodo’s mouth in a demanding kiss and rocked against him, grunting as Frodo arched up to meet him.

They quickly fell into a familiar rhythm, blue eyes and brown staring into each other as they moved together, both eager and yet wanting this to last forever.

"Frodo..." Sam cried out, feeling his body tighten in preface to his orgasm. He gripped the older Hobbit closer, grinding down against him.

Gasping, Frodo thrust up again and again, arms and legs tight around the other Hobbit, then he yanked on Sam’s hair, pulling him into a kiss as he came, crying out into Sam’s mouth.

Sam lay there for long moments, panting, loving the feeling of Frodo beneath him and knowing that he’d been the cause of his lover’s pleasure. "Love..." he began before hearing a sharp cry from by the fireplace. Eyes widening, Sam turned his head to see Merry and Pippin grinding together, much as he and Frodo had been moments before. He gave a squeak and hid his face against Frodo’s shoulder, at the same time, grabbing the blanket to make sure his master was completely covered.

"I told you they wouldn’t notice us," Frodo chuckled, though he too made sure they were both covered.

"Yeah, but now we’re noticin’ them," Sam moaned, not raising his face from Frodo’s throat.

"I think you’re supposed to be concentrating on me just now," Frodo retorted, rubbing his cheek against Sam’s curls.

"I’m trying, Mr. Frodo," Sam swore, only to wince as he heard Pippin cry out. "It’s just they’re awful loud..."

"He is rather high-pitched," Frodo agreed. "But I think they’re almost done." He kept his eyes resolutely on Sam, refusing to look at the other couple.

"I hope so!" Sam said fervently, wincing when he heard Pippin cry out again.

"They do seem to be enjoying themselves," Frodo said rather desperately as Merry yelled Pippin’s name.

"I just never want to know how much again!"

"You’re just jealous," Merry drawled, pushing off Pippin to lean on one elbow, the fingers of his other hand still entwined in the younger Hobbit’s hair.

"And have reason to be," Pippin murmured happily, immediately rolling with Merry to press up against him. He peered over at the blanket-covered lump on the sofa and laughed breathlessly. "Can you breathe under there?"

"Perfectly," Frodo retorted, pushed the blanket back down to their shoulders, where it had been before Sam caught another glimpse of the younger Hobbits. "And I can assure we have no need to be jealous," he added loftily.

Sam risked a glance at the other two and winced, feeling his ears heat up. "There’s another blanket on the chair there," he offered.

"And how do you suggest we move to get it?" Merry snickered.

Calmer now, Pippin started to blush, hiding against Merry.

Shaking his head, Frodo squirmed around under the blanket to fasten his trousers and smooth down his hopelessly rumpled shirt. Once somewhat presentable, he slid out, taking care not to pull the blanket off Sam, and went across to the other one, which he tossed on top of Merry and Pippin.

Sam struggled to fix his own breeches, then hopped to his feet as well, busying himself with refreshing the tea and fixing plates for all of them.

Merry held the blanket up so that Pippin could rearrange his clothes, then kissed the younger Hobbit when he returned the favor. "Well then, that certainly worked up my appetite," he exclaimed, taking the plate Sam offered and handing it to Pippin.

Frodo bit into a biscuit to hide his grin at Sam’s blush. "Indeed," he said blandly, sounding just like Bilbo for a moment.

"In the very best way," Pippin put in, eagerly taking his own plate even as he snatched a mushroom from Merry’s.

Sam shifted uncomfortably and ran a hand through his tousled hair before nibbling at his own meal, unable to meet anyone’s eyes but Frodo’s.

"Hey now!" Merry protested, grabbing a mushroom to replace his lost one.

"It’s all right, love," Frodo murmured, ignoring the wrestling match on the floor as Merry and Pippin battled over the food. "It’s only Merry and Pippin, our friends. Nothing’s changed."

"I know," Sam answered, still sounding unhappy. "But it’s private-like and..." he paused again, at a loss for words.

Frodo bit his lip, feeling guilty. "I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you," he said quietly, unable to meet Sam’s eyes now.

Sam’s eyes widened, and he jerked his head up to stare at Frodo. "No! I didn’t mean - I liked it just fine, Mr. Frodo, ‘cause it was you an’ me and..." He darted a look at Merry and Pippin, who were watching them curiously. "Don’t be feelin’ bad because I’m a fool."

"But I made you feel bad. You tried to tell me to stop, and I didn’t listen."

Pippin’s eyes widened, and he darted a glance at Merry, not sure whether they should go or stay.

"Now, Mr. Frodo," Sam said, bending his head to meet the other Hobbit’s eyes, "if I hadn’t wanted to do it, do ya think I would have?"

Merry tightened his arms around Pippin and shook his head, sure that leaving now would just make things more difficult.

Thinking about how stubborn Sam could be in his own quiet way, Frodo had to admit, "No, not really," with a tiny smile. "It’s not something I’d want to do often," he said, trying to explain his actions, "but I feel comfortable with Merry and Pippin, like I don’t have to hide how I feel about you."

Listening, Pippin smiled slightly as well, understanding exactly what Frodo meant.

Sam nodded and gave a bit of a grin. "Next time though, we lock the door."

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