“No!” said Frodo; but he did not run away. Trembling, he looked up to see a tall, dark, and handsome figure silhouetted against the stars. It leaned over him, and Frodo felt his knees grow weak. He thought he saw an appraising glimmer in the two pale eyes gazing intently down into his own, and he stood transfixed, silently yearning for he knew not what. Then strong, manly hands seized him, and a body hard as iron bore against him, pressing him insistently to the ground, and he remembered no more.
…
He awoke feeling curiously sticky, and, even more curiously, strangely satiated. He had no desire to move, but was content to lie as he found himself: naked, on the ground, his clothes scattered around him, a crushed cigarette butt smoldering in a bare patch of dirt.
…
And, sure as deus ex machina is a fantasy writer’s best friend, came the answering call…

- Lord of the Rings – Book I, Chapter 8: Fog On The Barrow-Downs, John Ronald Reuel Tolkien

Tom Bombadil… salvando os hobbits na Colina dos Túmulos.
E eu?

› Continue lendo