Galadriel was not to wait long before young Frodo stepped foot into the meeting place of choice.
"You seek council, Ringbearer," she nodded, unsurprised by his decision to meet.
"I am troubled by twice the woes placed upon my fellows," replied Frodo, falling in misery into his seat. "I sense their feelings, their demons, and while I cannot deny them this, all I see is twice torment within myself."
"This cannot surprise me, young Frodo," replied Galadriel kindly. "For it is you that carries the heaviest of burdens upon all other troubles. You carry the One Ring."
Frodo glanced up, frustration of a kind framed momentarily in his drawn features.
"The Ring is a trouble, indeed," he replied, waving his hand as though the matter were of no consequence to him. "Yet it is not alone my demon."
Confusion sparked forward Galadriel as she leaned in her chair.
"The ring does not demand the most?" she queried in surprise. "There is something larger at force in your mind?"
"Indeed there is," replied Frodo, shifting restlessly in his chair. "Not one but two burdens demand obedience."
"Speak of them, then!" cried Galadriel, concern in her voice. "Is there a darker presence than known over this already tortured land?"
Frodo shook his head, sorrow deep in his voice.
"Not over the land, no, wise Galadriel," he replied. "The burdens I speak of exist only within my mind."
"Please tell of them, then," persisted Galadriel, her voice at calm once again.
"I feel shame at even the admittance of their existence," muttered Frodo, his eyes finding interest in the ground.
"I do not judge," reassured Galadriel, a smile upon her face. "Please speak."
It was a long moment before the courage Frodo sought revealed itself and the words could leave his mouth.
"I find myself twice obsessed, not with the ring but with fellow companions," began Frodo, his voice soft. Gaining confidence as he spoke, he continued again. "With a wizened age, do I find great attraction in one. In another it is the bulk of his load, carried always around his midline, food supplying the sustenance of its existence."
Galadriel let silence reign as she pondered the words presented to her.
"It is Gandalf at his great age that attracts you once, and twice is the pull of lust felt for the girth of padding found around dear Sam's stomach."
Frodo gasped, so awed by the wise elf's insight.
"Indeed that is my woe!" he cried.
"Tell me more," prompted Galadriel, curiosity sparked. "Speak of how this began and speak of how it continues."
Frodo let himself rest back into the embrace of the chair as he began his tale.
"I will begin with wise Gandalf. It is not only his years that attract me so, it is also how they are reflected within his form. The whiteness of his hair, the wrinkled texture of his skin, the complaints of his aged body... I cannot help but stare! For is it not the pull of old age that I feel?"
"A fetish for the aged," murmured Galadriel.
"Indeed it is," replied Frodo, as though in longing. "I feel it strong. It began long ago, though that relevance is not large to this tale. It was when Gandalf again returned to Bag End, to speak of the ring and to set me upon this journey, that I again felt his age arrest me. I could barely contain my wits when I sighted him, jumping wildly upon his form as though possessed! And since," he continued, with a moment to pause, "since then I find each of his actions a lure to my desire. I wish to stroke his pale beard, lick paths across the sharp grooves in his skin. Kiss his gummed lips and place my mouth upon the drooping skin of his manhood. When he falters in step, I wish to take place of a walking stick and allow him to grasp me instead."
"I have not known Gandalf to show his age to the extent you see," spoke Galadriel with concern. "I had thought him strong in his years."
"Oh, you mock my dreams!" cried Frodo. "Speak not of the truth but instead of what I wish were true for I desire it so!"
Galadriel smiled knowingly. "I do understand. Please, speak of Sam now and let me understand your desires for him also."
"His girth attracts me so," admitted Frodo, a pink hue to his cheeks as he spoke. "The plumpness which envelops him is a delight to my eyes."
"A fetish for podge, you would say?"
"Indeed, it is," spoke Frodo. "I had not realised the extent to which I found those inviting rolls of his body so becoming. We sleep tight together each night of this difficult journey, serving only as a worsened distraction to me. Every night do I curve my arms around him, grasping hold of those dependable handles. I want nothing more than to kneed them like dough, or bury my face in them as the sweetest death of all." He paused in his recital, gaining control of his breathing once more. "Yet it is not only his stomach I wish to hold. The generous folds of skin, smooth on their texture and rounded like the rolling sea, I see upon all of him. I wish to worship them for I have seen no beauty like it before!"
"Yet would it not be fair to say Gandalf cannot supply an interest to you in this way?" queried Galadriel. "Or indeed that Sam cannot give you the age you desire? Where then does this leave you?"
"That is my dilemma!" cried Frodo in anguish filled with frustration and lust. "Together they offer all I need, though together I cannot have them. Gandalf is but bones through skin, a sight which attracts me only in his age. Sam has the soft padding I desire, yet not the age of which I feel pulled towards."
Galadriel fell into deep contemplation as the situation played before her mind.
"While together you cannot have them as one, could you not instead have them as two?" she asked, her voice confident. "I speak of the closeness you have within the fellowship with both. Aged Gandalf is dedicated to you wholly, as is young Sam. Why not, therefore, approach both as one and express your need for more closeness, more comfort in this time of need. You need not express feelings for age or girth yet, for those are things which will fall into place once you have gained a deeper position within their hearts. Do you understand me, dear Frodo?"
Frodo nodded his head, hope in his soulful eyes. "Indeed I do, wise Galadriel," he replied. "I shall let emotion guide me into their hearts, with tearful eyes and an expression of need. They will respond well, you believe?"
"Indeed I do, young Frodo," replied Galadriel with a smile, "for who could refuse such a confrontation of expression from one with such features as yours?"
Frodo laughed aloud in delight as the future played before his eyes.
"I thank you, dear Galadriel!" he cried as he rose from his chair. "I will do as you say and gain what I truly desire!"
Feeling overcome with emotion, Frodo leapt forward into a deep embrace with his savior, and sprang light-footed off into the paths of the trees.
Galadriel smiled. She had noticed already the worry within Celeborn's features. She knew the competition they held would soon be won by her, for indeed the Love of Men need only be gently prodded before it would each time blossom before her very eyes.
The End.