Fic: Windy (Gen) G
Title: Windy
Author: Moit
Summary: Post-quest AU. A heavily pregnant Frodo sneaks out for a bit of spun sugar, but faints in the market.
Pairing: Gen (implied Frodo Éomer)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff, Comedy
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, mention of bodily functions
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins, who requested #3 on my meme, angry. As Lily's request goes: Frodo and Aragorn platonic friendship. Frodo is VERY pregnant and does something to endanger his health---like something too physical---Aragorn gets angry. Hee hee... Hope I got it right, Lily!
Frodo inhaled deeply, taking in the wonderful smells of the market. He’d only just gotten out from under Aragorn’s watchful eye. The merchants called out to him, all trying to convince the heavily pregnant hobbit to sample their wares. Frodo was desperately craving some of the spun sugar on a stick that neither Aragorn or Éomer would let him have. The vendor smiled fondly at Frodo. Nearly everyone in the market was familiar with the ringbearer, who was often seen walking with King Elessar.
Frodo walked along, enjoying his spun sugar. It was dreadfully hot this day, and Frodo felt terribly uncomfortable despite his need for fresh air. He tossed the empty stick in the nearest rubbish bin and wiped at his sweaty forehead. He really needed to get back before Aragorn noticed he was missing. It was just so hot and the Citadel seemed so very far away.
Frodo sat down on a nearby bench to rest his swollen feet. These days it seemed like every part of his body was swollen and sore. Frodo leaned his head back against the cool stone of the building and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just rest for a moment…
The next thing Frodo knew, he was lying down and there was a cold compress on his forehead. He wasn’t hot anymore, but he was starting to think all that spun sugar hadn’t been such a good idea. He heard low voices, and one was unmistakably Aragorn.
“…should have been watching him!”
“My Lord, please forgive me--”
Frodo rolled over groaning. The spun sugar was definitely coming back. Aragorn was somehow there with a basin and caught the compress as it slid off Frodo’s forehead while he retched. Aragorn wiped his mouth and set him back to rights on the bed.
“Where am I?” Frodo asked, noticing with displeasure that the spun sugar tasted terrible the second time.
“The Houses of Healing,” Aragorn replied, handing Frodo a cup of water.
“What happened?” Frodo asked when the cup was empty.
Aragorn’s eyes turned serious and stern, looking every bit the imposing King Elessar. “One of the guards saw you faint in the marketplace.”
Frodo looked down at his lap.
“I do not believe you were given permission to leave the Citadel. And Éomer-”
“Don’t you dare bring him in to this!” Frodo shouted suddenly, his eyes flashing. “I don’t need his permission to do anything and I certainly don’t need yours!”
“If one of my guards hadn’t seen you, you could have been robbed… or worse!”
“And if I wasn’t kept under lock and key, I wouldn’t have had to sneak out for a bit of spun sugar!” Frodo paused for a breath and his arm flew to his side.
“Frodo?” Aragorn asked, his voice softening with concern. “Are you hurt?”
Frodo shook his head. “It is nothing.”
“Frodo, if you are injured, I must--”
“I am suffering from the pain of built up flatulence!” Frodo shouted, his cheeks colouring.
Aragorn’s eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a little “o” of surprise. His demeanour deflated to embarrassed friend, rather than that of concerned King. “Please, forgive me, Frodo, I can be overzealous at times. If you are in need of a walk to the market in the future, please let me know and I shall personally accompany you.”
“Thank you, Aragorn.”
As soon as the Man disappeared from sight, Frodo sighed in relief and passed gas so loudly the guard at the door jumped in surprise.
Author: Moit
Summary: Post-quest AU. A heavily pregnant Frodo sneaks out for a bit of spun sugar, but faints in the market.
Pairing: Gen (implied Frodo Éomer)
Rating: G
Genre: Fluff, Comedy
Warnings: implied Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, mention of bodily functions
Author's Note: This is for lilybaggins, who requested #3 on my meme, angry. As Lily's request goes: Frodo and Aragorn platonic friendship. Frodo is VERY pregnant and does something to endanger his health---like something too physical---Aragorn gets angry. Hee hee... Hope I got it right, Lily!
Frodo inhaled deeply, taking in the wonderful smells of the market. He’d only just gotten out from under Aragorn’s watchful eye. The merchants called out to him, all trying to convince the heavily pregnant hobbit to sample their wares. Frodo was desperately craving some of the spun sugar on a stick that neither Aragorn or Éomer would let him have. The vendor smiled fondly at Frodo. Nearly everyone in the market was familiar with the ringbearer, who was often seen walking with King Elessar.
Frodo walked along, enjoying his spun sugar. It was dreadfully hot this day, and Frodo felt terribly uncomfortable despite his need for fresh air. He tossed the empty stick in the nearest rubbish bin and wiped at his sweaty forehead. He really needed to get back before Aragorn noticed he was missing. It was just so hot and the Citadel seemed so very far away.
Frodo sat down on a nearby bench to rest his swollen feet. These days it seemed like every part of his body was swollen and sore. Frodo leaned his head back against the cool stone of the building and closed his eyes. Maybe he’d just rest for a moment…
The next thing Frodo knew, he was lying down and there was a cold compress on his forehead. He wasn’t hot anymore, but he was starting to think all that spun sugar hadn’t been such a good idea. He heard low voices, and one was unmistakably Aragorn.
“…should have been watching him!”
“My Lord, please forgive me--”
Frodo rolled over groaning. The spun sugar was definitely coming back. Aragorn was somehow there with a basin and caught the compress as it slid off Frodo’s forehead while he retched. Aragorn wiped his mouth and set him back to rights on the bed.
“Where am I?” Frodo asked, noticing with displeasure that the spun sugar tasted terrible the second time.
“The Houses of Healing,” Aragorn replied, handing Frodo a cup of water.
“What happened?” Frodo asked when the cup was empty.
Aragorn’s eyes turned serious and stern, looking every bit the imposing King Elessar. “One of the guards saw you faint in the marketplace.”
Frodo looked down at his lap.
“I do not believe you were given permission to leave the Citadel. And Éomer-”
“Don’t you dare bring him in to this!” Frodo shouted suddenly, his eyes flashing. “I don’t need his permission to do anything and I certainly don’t need yours!”
“If one of my guards hadn’t seen you, you could have been robbed… or worse!”
“And if I wasn’t kept under lock and key, I wouldn’t have had to sneak out for a bit of spun sugar!” Frodo paused for a breath and his arm flew to his side.
“Frodo?” Aragorn asked, his voice softening with concern. “Are you hurt?”
Frodo shook his head. “It is nothing.”
“Frodo, if you are injured, I must--”
“I am suffering from the pain of built up flatulence!” Frodo shouted, his cheeks colouring.
Aragorn’s eyebrows rose and his mouth formed a little “o” of surprise. His demeanour deflated to embarrassed friend, rather than that of concerned King. “Please, forgive me, Frodo, I can be overzealous at times. If you are in need of a walk to the market in the future, please let me know and I shall personally accompany you.”
“Thank you, Aragorn.”
As soon as the Man disappeared from sight, Frodo sighed in relief and passed gas so loudly the guard at the door jumped in surprise.