A Fine Mess (implied Frodo/Sam) R 3/8
Title: A Fine Mess - Chapter 3/8
Author: Moit
Summary: After taking a walk, a pregnant Frodo finds himself at the mercy of a camp of rangers.
Rating: R
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, mpreg
Author's Note: I am sooo soo tired right now and I feel a headache brewing. I just wanted to get this chapter finished and posted. I'm still not happy with it, but you'll have that. Bah. Off to bed with me!
Previous Chapters here
Merry ushered Frodo into a brightly-lit waiting room. They were the only hobbits inside, thankfully. Merry nearly had to drag Frodo up to the desk where a round-faced lass waited with a smile.
“Frodo here has an appointment with Healer Darvith.”
Frodo glared at his cousin. “I'm pregnant, not an invalid, Merry,” he muttered under his breath.
“Could have fooled me,” Merry replied softly.
“Are you ready, Mister Baggins?” the lass asked.
Frodo nodded, but he looked more than a little nervous.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Merry asked, all trace of humour gone from his face.
Frodo took a deep breath. “I'll be okay. But thank you, Mer.”
Merry clapped him on the back before Frodo allowed the lass to lead him farther into the building.
She led him to a small room that held a table covered in parchment, several chairs, and a small table with various metal instruments atop its gleaming surface.
“Please remove everything from the waist down, cover up with this, and have a seat on the table.” She handed Frodo a linen blanket and pulled the door shut, leaving him alone in the examination room.
Frodo jumped out of his breeches and underpants and was up on the table with the blanket spread across his lap as fast as he could. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassed he’d be if the nurse -- or worse, the healer -- walked in while he was changing.
Once settled, he took his time looking around the room. There wasn’t much to look at, other than the table of instruments Frodo had never seen and was worried where the healer might want to put them -- not a good thought. The table he sat on was also rather curious. At the end were what appeared to be handles. Frodo, at least, had used them as he climbed onto the table.
A soft knock on the door startled Frodo out of his musings.
“Come in!” he called, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.
The door opened and in walked, not Healer Darvith, but the Ranger -- Strider -- who had saved him from the other Rangers. Frodo felt the knot in his chest tighten farther.
“Easy, Frodo,” Strider said, sensing his fear. “I am here because Healer Darvith was called away. I’ve a good reputation with the Hobbits in Buckland. How are you feeling today?”
Frodo cleared his throat. Surely none of the nurses would let this Man in here to harm him.. would they?
“I’m feeling better today than I have the last week,” Frodo said softly, finding his voice.
Strider nodded, consulting the papers in his hand. “And the bleeding has stopped?”
“Yes,” Frodo answered, blushing slightly at the thought of this Ranger reading about his bleeding and need for cotton sheaves.
“Very good.” Strider sat down on one of the chairs at the end of the table. “Have you experienced any other symptoms lately?”
“Other than the bleeding, no.”
“Cravings?”
“No.”
“Pain or discomfort?”
“No.”
“Discharge?”
Frodo’s cheeks coloured and he fiddled with the edge of the blanket on his lap.
“Frodo?”
“Yes?” Frodo said looking up.
“Have you been experiencing any discharge?”
“Yes,” Frodo repeated, his blush darkening.
“Has it been a copious discharge or a light discharge?”
Why did he need to know such details? What difference did it make, anyway?
“It is enough that I have to change my underpants at least twice a day.”
As if this whole experience could not get any more mortifying, “And the smell?”
“What?” Frodo squeaked.
The Healer looked up from his notes calmly. “Does the discharge have a strong odour?”
Frodo was sure he could fry an egg on his face it was so hot. “No odour… it’s just… wet.”
Strider nodded, making more notes. “That’s completely normal. Nothing to be worried, or embarrassed, about.”
But his comment only fanned Frodo’s embarrassment.
“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?”
“Okay,” Frodo said, although he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to.
“I need you to lie back, Frodo,” Strider said with a chuckle. “This is much different than the last time we did this.”
Frodo laid back, stiff as a board, with his legs glued together.
“Now, bend your knees.”
Frodo bent his knees.
“And slide closer.”
Frodo moved himself down until he felt like he was at the edge of the table.
“Closer, still,” Strider said, crooking his finger at the hobbit.
Frodo scooted closer, afraid he really would fall off the table.
“Still not close enough, Frodo, I need your bottom at the very edge so I can see everything.”
Frodo sighed heavily and pressed forward until Strider told him to stop, when he was sure his bottom was hanging completely off the table. He felt so very exposed in this position -- his thighs were pressed against his growing belly. He felt the cool air sweep across his bits, chilling the moist skin. With his legs so, Strider should be able to see the babe without touching anything! He silently prayed Strider wouldn’t comment on his bits or anything. That would be worse than humiliating.
“Okay, Frodo, now I just need to have you place your feet in the stirrups.”
Frodo pressed his chin to his chest in effort to see the Healer. “Stirrups?”
“Here.” Strider took one of Frodo’s furry feet and placed it on what Frodo thought was a handle. Oh.
When Strider moved the other foot, Frodo felt more exposed than ever before. Now he felt like a nut that had been cracked open to reveal the tender insides. At this rate, he felt like he might either crack in half or die of embarrassment.
The Healer reached for an oil lamp on the floor, lit it, and set it on the table, aiming the light so that it was shining right up inside Frodo’s body.
“Let’s put some light on our subject, yes?” Strider said, trying for a lighter mood.
Frodo shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the light and the weight of Strider’s eyes. Nothing was going to lighten this atmosphere. Frodo could feel the heat of the lantern on his bits and secretly wondered which was hotter -- his bits or his face?
“Be just a moment while I ready myself.”
Frodo watched, incredulous, as Strider left him to wash his hands in a basin. Here he was, splayed out like a Christmas goose while the Healer WASHED HIS HANDS! Surely, he could have done that BEFORE he spread Frodo out and lit up his bits?
Strider snapped on a pair of gloves and Frodo jumped in surprise.
“Nervous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Frodo shook his head, but he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Strider said, patting Frodo on the knee in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Frodo found it awkward and uncomfortable.
The healer situated himself next to the table of instruments and moved forward so that his face was inches from Frodo’s bits. Frodo was sure he could feel Strider’s breath on the opening of his birth canal.
“I’m just going to take a look manually before I insert the speculum.”
“Speculum?” Heat flooded Frodo’s body and he felt himself begin to sweat. Great. Now he’d start to stink in addition to the humiliation of being spread out in front of a near stranger.
He felt gentle fingers par the outer folds of his birth canal and enter him. Reflexively, Frodo tightened his muscles.
“Frodo,” Strider said gently, “I’ll need you to relax so I can complete the examination.”
Frodo forced himself to relax, allowing Strider’s fingers deeper inside his body.
Almost as quickly as he pushed them in, Strider pulled his fingers out. “That’s different,” he muttered, staring fixedly at Frodo’s birth canal.
Oh, no. Surely he wasn’t deformed? Strider already had his fingers up there. What could he have found this time? Worse, something could be wrong with the babe.
“What is it?” Frodo asked with fear tinging his voice and he levered himself up onto his elbows.
“It appears you’ve a hymen inside your birth canal.”
Frodo felt his heart sink past his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he ventured, “Will the babe survive?”
“As far as I can tell, so far…” Strider’s brows knitted in confusion.
At the Healer’s confused look, Frodo became confused as well. “I’m dying, am I not? The hymen--”
“Is a thin membrane of skin inside a virginal vagina,” Strider supplied, letting out a hearty laugh, patting Frodo on the knee.
The hobbit sank back onto the table, staring at the ceiling as embarrassment flooded his every pore.
“Now, Frodo, ignorance is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a male. You had no way of knowing how the vagina operates.”
Frodo nodded, just absorbing the information. He was completely and utterly at a loss for words.
“Does that mean we can’t do the exam?” he asked quietly.
“Of course not!” Strider’s voice boomed, making Frodo feel so very small and vulnerable in this position. “It just means I need to use a smaller speculum so I don’ t break your hymen!”
Frodo sighed loudly.
Strider raised an eyebrow, but Frodo said nothing.
Picking up the smaller of the two scary-looking silver devices, Strider regarded Frodo over the hobbit’s linen-covered knees. “Take a deep breath.”
Frodo did so and almost immediately he felt something stretching the small opening of his birth canal. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain.
Strider’s grey eyes flicked up to Frodo’s face. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice.
“A bit,” Frodo replied through clenched teeth.
“Relax,” Strider said, running a hand over the soft fur on Frodo’s foot. “You’ve a muscle down there that can be relaxed. Your birth canal will stretch. How do you think the babe will come out otherwise?”
Frodo concentrated on relaxing his muscles and felt the pain lessen slightly. Then he felt the stretching increase and he knew, just knew his birth canal had been spread wide open to the Man’s gaze. It wasn’t enough that his thighs were spread as far as they’d go, and his bum was nearly hanging off the table. Oh, no. Now Strider had pried his most private virginal space open and shined a lantern right up inside him! He’d probably never be able to look the Man in the eyes again, for reliving this embarrassing episode.
“Now, Frodo, I just need you to relax. I’m going to examine your cervix for any unusual signs or symptoms. First, I’ll need to remove some of the discharge so I can get a clear view.”
Frodo shifted his hips.
“Nothing to be worried about. As I said before, a copious amount of discharge is completely normal during pregnancy. This may pinch just a bit.”
Frodo suddenly felt a cramp begin deep inside his birth canal. It was more uncomfortable than painful, but Frodo clenched his hand in the blanket across his knees until the feeling abated.
“There, now,” Strider said, slipping the tool from Frodo’s body. “All finished.”
“That’s it?” Frodo asked, almost disbelieving.
Strider paused as he removed one of his gloves. “Unless you’d rather I keep looking at your cervix?” he asked, jest in his voice.
Frodo’s cheeks coloured and he looked down at his lap, embarrassed. “No, that’s quite all right.”
Strider grinned. “I thought as much. Get dressed and I’ll meet you outside when you’re finished.”
Frodo climbed down gingerly and pulled his clothes on. With a deep breath, he opened the door and prepared to face the Ranger again.
Author: Moit
Summary: After taking a walk, a pregnant Frodo finds himself at the mercy of a camp of rangers.
Rating: R
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, mpreg
Author's Note: I am sooo soo tired right now and I feel a headache brewing. I just wanted to get this chapter finished and posted. I'm still not happy with it, but you'll have that. Bah. Off to bed with me!
Previous Chapters here
Merry ushered Frodo into a brightly-lit waiting room. They were the only hobbits inside, thankfully. Merry nearly had to drag Frodo up to the desk where a round-faced lass waited with a smile.
“Frodo here has an appointment with Healer Darvith.”
Frodo glared at his cousin. “I'm pregnant, not an invalid, Merry,” he muttered under his breath.
“Could have fooled me,” Merry replied softly.
“Are you ready, Mister Baggins?” the lass asked.
Frodo nodded, but he looked more than a little nervous.
“Do you want me to go with you?” Merry asked, all trace of humour gone from his face.
Frodo took a deep breath. “I'll be okay. But thank you, Mer.”
Merry clapped him on the back before Frodo allowed the lass to lead him farther into the building.
She led him to a small room that held a table covered in parchment, several chairs, and a small table with various metal instruments atop its gleaming surface.
“Please remove everything from the waist down, cover up with this, and have a seat on the table.” She handed Frodo a linen blanket and pulled the door shut, leaving him alone in the examination room.
Frodo jumped out of his breeches and underpants and was up on the table with the blanket spread across his lap as fast as he could. He couldn’t imagine how embarrassed he’d be if the nurse -- or worse, the healer -- walked in while he was changing.
Once settled, he took his time looking around the room. There wasn’t much to look at, other than the table of instruments Frodo had never seen and was worried where the healer might want to put them -- not a good thought. The table he sat on was also rather curious. At the end were what appeared to be handles. Frodo, at least, had used them as he climbed onto the table.
A soft knock on the door startled Frodo out of his musings.
“Come in!” he called, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.
The door opened and in walked, not Healer Darvith, but the Ranger -- Strider -- who had saved him from the other Rangers. Frodo felt the knot in his chest tighten farther.
“Easy, Frodo,” Strider said, sensing his fear. “I am here because Healer Darvith was called away. I’ve a good reputation with the Hobbits in Buckland. How are you feeling today?”
Frodo cleared his throat. Surely none of the nurses would let this Man in here to harm him.. would they?
“I’m feeling better today than I have the last week,” Frodo said softly, finding his voice.
Strider nodded, consulting the papers in his hand. “And the bleeding has stopped?”
“Yes,” Frodo answered, blushing slightly at the thought of this Ranger reading about his bleeding and need for cotton sheaves.
“Very good.” Strider sat down on one of the chairs at the end of the table. “Have you experienced any other symptoms lately?”
“Other than the bleeding, no.”
“Cravings?”
“No.”
“Pain or discomfort?”
“No.”
“Discharge?”
Frodo’s cheeks coloured and he fiddled with the edge of the blanket on his lap.
“Frodo?”
“Yes?” Frodo said looking up.
“Have you been experiencing any discharge?”
“Yes,” Frodo repeated, his blush darkening.
“Has it been a copious discharge or a light discharge?”
Why did he need to know such details? What difference did it make, anyway?
“It is enough that I have to change my underpants at least twice a day.”
As if this whole experience could not get any more mortifying, “And the smell?”
“What?” Frodo squeaked.
The Healer looked up from his notes calmly. “Does the discharge have a strong odour?”
Frodo was sure he could fry an egg on his face it was so hot. “No odour… it’s just… wet.”
Strider nodded, making more notes. “That’s completely normal. Nothing to be worried, or embarrassed, about.”
But his comment only fanned Frodo’s embarrassment.
“Well, let’s take a look, shall we?”
“Okay,” Frodo said, although he wasn’t sure what he was agreeing to.
“I need you to lie back, Frodo,” Strider said with a chuckle. “This is much different than the last time we did this.”
Frodo laid back, stiff as a board, with his legs glued together.
“Now, bend your knees.”
Frodo bent his knees.
“And slide closer.”
Frodo moved himself down until he felt like he was at the edge of the table.
“Closer, still,” Strider said, crooking his finger at the hobbit.
Frodo scooted closer, afraid he really would fall off the table.
“Still not close enough, Frodo, I need your bottom at the very edge so I can see everything.”
Frodo sighed heavily and pressed forward until Strider told him to stop, when he was sure his bottom was hanging completely off the table. He felt so very exposed in this position -- his thighs were pressed against his growing belly. He felt the cool air sweep across his bits, chilling the moist skin. With his legs so, Strider should be able to see the babe without touching anything! He silently prayed Strider wouldn’t comment on his bits or anything. That would be worse than humiliating.
“Okay, Frodo, now I just need to have you place your feet in the stirrups.”
Frodo pressed his chin to his chest in effort to see the Healer. “Stirrups?”
“Here.” Strider took one of Frodo’s furry feet and placed it on what Frodo thought was a handle. Oh.
When Strider moved the other foot, Frodo felt more exposed than ever before. Now he felt like a nut that had been cracked open to reveal the tender insides. At this rate, he felt like he might either crack in half or die of embarrassment.
The Healer reached for an oil lamp on the floor, lit it, and set it on the table, aiming the light so that it was shining right up inside Frodo’s body.
“Let’s put some light on our subject, yes?” Strider said, trying for a lighter mood.
Frodo shifted uncomfortably under the weight of the light and the weight of Strider’s eyes. Nothing was going to lighten this atmosphere. Frodo could feel the heat of the lantern on his bits and secretly wondered which was hotter -- his bits or his face?
“Be just a moment while I ready myself.”
Frodo watched, incredulous, as Strider left him to wash his hands in a basin. Here he was, splayed out like a Christmas goose while the Healer WASHED HIS HANDS! Surely, he could have done that BEFORE he spread Frodo out and lit up his bits?
Strider snapped on a pair of gloves and Frodo jumped in surprise.
“Nervous?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Frodo shook his head, but he couldn’t speak around the lump in his throat.
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” Strider said, patting Frodo on the knee in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Frodo found it awkward and uncomfortable.
The healer situated himself next to the table of instruments and moved forward so that his face was inches from Frodo’s bits. Frodo was sure he could feel Strider’s breath on the opening of his birth canal.
“I’m just going to take a look manually before I insert the speculum.”
“Speculum?” Heat flooded Frodo’s body and he felt himself begin to sweat. Great. Now he’d start to stink in addition to the humiliation of being spread out in front of a near stranger.
He felt gentle fingers par the outer folds of his birth canal and enter him. Reflexively, Frodo tightened his muscles.
“Frodo,” Strider said gently, “I’ll need you to relax so I can complete the examination.”
Frodo forced himself to relax, allowing Strider’s fingers deeper inside his body.
Almost as quickly as he pushed them in, Strider pulled his fingers out. “That’s different,” he muttered, staring fixedly at Frodo’s birth canal.
Oh, no. Surely he wasn’t deformed? Strider already had his fingers up there. What could he have found this time? Worse, something could be wrong with the babe.
“What is it?” Frodo asked with fear tinging his voice and he levered himself up onto his elbows.
“It appears you’ve a hymen inside your birth canal.”
Frodo felt his heart sink past his stomach. Taking a deep breath, he ventured, “Will the babe survive?”
“As far as I can tell, so far…” Strider’s brows knitted in confusion.
At the Healer’s confused look, Frodo became confused as well. “I’m dying, am I not? The hymen--”
“Is a thin membrane of skin inside a virginal vagina,” Strider supplied, letting out a hearty laugh, patting Frodo on the knee.
The hobbit sank back onto the table, staring at the ceiling as embarrassment flooded his every pore.
“Now, Frodo, ignorance is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re a male. You had no way of knowing how the vagina operates.”
Frodo nodded, just absorbing the information. He was completely and utterly at a loss for words.
“Does that mean we can’t do the exam?” he asked quietly.
“Of course not!” Strider’s voice boomed, making Frodo feel so very small and vulnerable in this position. “It just means I need to use a smaller speculum so I don’ t break your hymen!”
Frodo sighed loudly.
Strider raised an eyebrow, but Frodo said nothing.
Picking up the smaller of the two scary-looking silver devices, Strider regarded Frodo over the hobbit’s linen-covered knees. “Take a deep breath.”
Frodo did so and almost immediately he felt something stretching the small opening of his birth canal. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the pain.
Strider’s grey eyes flicked up to Frodo’s face. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, concern heavy in his voice.
“A bit,” Frodo replied through clenched teeth.
“Relax,” Strider said, running a hand over the soft fur on Frodo’s foot. “You’ve a muscle down there that can be relaxed. Your birth canal will stretch. How do you think the babe will come out otherwise?”
Frodo concentrated on relaxing his muscles and felt the pain lessen slightly. Then he felt the stretching increase and he knew, just knew his birth canal had been spread wide open to the Man’s gaze. It wasn’t enough that his thighs were spread as far as they’d go, and his bum was nearly hanging off the table. Oh, no. Now Strider had pried his most private virginal space open and shined a lantern right up inside him! He’d probably never be able to look the Man in the eyes again, for reliving this embarrassing episode.
“Now, Frodo, I just need you to relax. I’m going to examine your cervix for any unusual signs or symptoms. First, I’ll need to remove some of the discharge so I can get a clear view.”
Frodo shifted his hips.
“Nothing to be worried about. As I said before, a copious amount of discharge is completely normal during pregnancy. This may pinch just a bit.”
Frodo suddenly felt a cramp begin deep inside his birth canal. It was more uncomfortable than painful, but Frodo clenched his hand in the blanket across his knees until the feeling abated.
“There, now,” Strider said, slipping the tool from Frodo’s body. “All finished.”
“That’s it?” Frodo asked, almost disbelieving.
Strider paused as he removed one of his gloves. “Unless you’d rather I keep looking at your cervix?” he asked, jest in his voice.
Frodo’s cheeks coloured and he looked down at his lap, embarrassed. “No, that’s quite all right.”
Strider grinned. “I thought as much. Get dressed and I’ll meet you outside when you’re finished.”
Frodo climbed down gingerly and pulled his clothes on. With a deep breath, he opened the door and prepared to face the Ranger again.