FIC: Complications (Aragorn/FrodoMPREG) Part 6
Wherein Frodo does something he shouldn't and ends up facing the consequences...
Title: Complications
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: http://www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Disclaimer: I’m a teacher. ::holds out empty pockets:: See? No money. J.R.R. Tolkien owns the characters herein. ::sighs:: But they’re lovely to play with…
Rating: PG-13 for now
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, A/U, MPREG
Summary: Frodo and Aragorn are starting a family…but there are complications…
Warnings: MPREG and slash, if that’s a problem for you
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place post RotK, in its own A/U way; previous parts of this can be found in the ‘Memories’ section of my LJ.
Author Note: Thanks to Sheltie for the beta!
Complications
~Part 6~
by Anastasia
For what seemed like the hundredth time, Frodo looked back over his shoulder at the guard standing just inside the castle door. It *was* a relief to know he was there, just in case there was a problem, but knowing his private time was being monitored took away a bit of Frodo’s joy.
Trying to lose himself in the beauty of the day, rather than his thoughts, Frodo watched a blue butterfly dip and circle among the garden’s multi-colored flowers. He thought he knew how it felt, flying freely, with the limitless sky as its home.
The baby chose that moment to wake and change positions. Frodo held his stomach until the none-too-graceful flip-flopping ceased.
“Do you sense the butterfly’s movements as well?” he said softly to the baby. “You certainly flap and flutter like one at times. Maybe we should name you after a butterfly, instead of after a flower, as cousin Pippin suggests.”
He stroked his belly, longing for the time when he would be able to touch his child’s fine hair and soft skin. “Though Aragorn says you’re floating in water right now…so perhaps you will be our little fish.” Frodo giggled at the picture that presented.
Thoughtfully, he looked past the garden to the little hill that lay beyond. If he remembered correctly, there was a pond full of large, orange fish on the other side of the hill.
Frodo thought of how relaxing it would be to sit and watch the fish swim; the butterflies were lovely but they weren’t the most calming creatures ever set down on Middle Earth.
Holding his belly with one hand, Frodo awkwardly slid from the stone seat. It was not that high, but he was not as agile as he had once been. With both feet planted firmly on the ground, he steadied himself. The feel of the Earth beneath his feet nearly started Frodo off into tears again; it *had* been too long a time since he had last walked outside.
As he passed the bright bed of flowers, Frodo saw that some of the plants were nearly overtaken by weeds. Shaking his head, he wondered how he had not noticed such an eyesore as he had sat looking at them earlier.
He knew he should simply tell Aragorn to have someone take care of them, but he couldn’t just leave them. Things of such beauty did not deserve to be choked out of existence just because someone was too careless to pay them attention; Sam had taught him that.
With some difficulty, Frodo bent down, pulling handfuls of the bothersome weeds up and tossing them into the grass beside the bed. When his back began to ache, Frodo knelt down, making his way through the flowers, row by row.
Surprisingly, Frodo soon found himself at the far edge of the flower bed. Looking up, he saw that it was now free of weeds and looking far prettier than before.
“Ah…much better,” Frodo said, with an affectionate pat to the earth. “You’ve been neglected, haven’t you?”
As he spoke, Frodo pushed himself from his sitting position up onto his knees. “Well, I’ll...” Frodo panted slightly as he made an attempt to hoist himself to his feet. “…see to it…that you are tended…” He made it to his feet with gargantuan effort and stood, stooped over, breathing heavily. “…from now on.” Belatedly, Frodo realized that weeding might not have been the best of ideas.
Frodo could feel his lungs burning with each new breath he took, and wished for something to lean against. He had not been very active lately, with Aragorn’s constant warnings of not overdoing things and, for the first time, Frodo thought he understood what the king had been talking about.
While he’d been immersed in his task, Frodo had been lost in his thoughts and the sounds of the birds and insects. His back had begun to hurt, but he had dismissed it as unimportant at the time. Now, however, he was feeling extremely uncomfortable.
The ache in his lower back seemed to pull from his spine, causing pain to spread outward to his neck and the backs of his arms and legs. Upset at himself for doing more than his already-overtaxed body would allow, Frodo blinked back tears of frustration and tried to decide what to do next.
He could see the guard still standing at the door and considered signaling for him. He didn’t want to go back inside the castle, but a nap on the soft, large feather bed did sound far too inviting to resist.
Just as he was about to wave his arms to catch the guard’s attention, he saw the guard turn away. Soon, another guard was at the door, and both men looked to be discussing something.
Frodo made his decision. He was already beginning to breathe a bit easier; he would go to the fish pond as he had originally intended and sit there for a while. When he was entirely rested again, he would go back to the castle.
Satisfied with his choice and smiling with the anticipation of seeing the fish again, Frodo walked slowly toward the small hill that led to the pond. The incline was slight, but by the time he reached the top Frodo was winded. The pain in his back was returning quickly and he was wishing he had not decided to cover such a distance alone.
He could not continue down the other side of hill, Frodo decided. The pounding of his heart and the jerking pains in his back were enough to deter him from wanting to see the fish. Perhaps he would come out another day, with Aragorn, and they could bring a picnic lunch to eat beside the pond.
Thinking of Aragorn made Frodo want to go back to the castle immediately. He longed to have a hot bath, to be held in Aragorn’s arms, but he simply did not have the energy. Feeling ever more exhausted and light-headed, Frodo began to worry. Did the guard see him? Was he still watching? Frodo could not tell at such a distance, but hoped that the guard was being vigilant.
With a sigh, Frodo looked down at the ground. It seemed to be very far away, where sitting was concerned, and with his current heavy bulk it would be even more difficult to do so…let alone to get back up. But it was either rest or walk back, and Frodo knew he could not do the latter right now. So he sat.
Frodo hit the ground with a resounding bump, his weight throwing him off balance and dragging him to the earth more quickly than he was prepared for. He cried out loudly as his tailbone connected with the ground and grasped his stomach with both hands as he felt himself falling.
Down the hillside Frodo tumbled, further shouts silenced by the sheer terror of being tossed against the grassy slope as he tried to protect the babe.
Peripherally, Frodo was aware of the back of his head, his cheek, his elbows, his wrist, his foot, hitting the ground as the bottom of the hill rushed up to meet him. The sting and the perpetual motion stole his remaining breath away, but his thoughts were only for his unborn child…Aragorn’s child. The heir to Gondor must not be lost.
Hands still clasped around his belly, Frodo was spared one more moment to hope that help arrived soon before he hit the water with a resounding splash that sent the fish swimming for safety to the other side of the pond.
~ end part 6 ~
Wanted to get at least this part written and up before the first day of school tomorrow... Between children and meetings and lesson plans and parent phone calls and the like, my energy for writing anything will be zapped from this point on. :( Crud. It's been a nice summer...
Title: Complications
Author: Anastasia (padawan_ana@yahoo.com)
Homepage: http://www.slashcity.org/anafic
Live Journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/ana_stasia/
Pairing: Frodo/Aragorn
Disclaimer: I’m a teacher. ::holds out empty pockets:: See? No money. J.R.R. Tolkien owns the characters herein. ::sighs:: But they’re lovely to play with…
Rating: PG-13 for now
Status: Incomplete
Category: Angst, h/c, A/U, MPREG
Summary: Frodo and Aragorn are starting a family…but there are complications…
Warnings: MPREG and slash, if that’s a problem for you
Archive: My own site. All others please ask.
Story Notes: This story takes place post RotK, in its own A/U way; previous parts of this can be found in the ‘Memories’ section of my LJ.
Author Note: Thanks to Sheltie for the beta!
Complications
~Part 6~
by Anastasia
For what seemed like the hundredth time, Frodo looked back over his shoulder at the guard standing just inside the castle door. It *was* a relief to know he was there, just in case there was a problem, but knowing his private time was being monitored took away a bit of Frodo’s joy.
Trying to lose himself in the beauty of the day, rather than his thoughts, Frodo watched a blue butterfly dip and circle among the garden’s multi-colored flowers. He thought he knew how it felt, flying freely, with the limitless sky as its home.
The baby chose that moment to wake and change positions. Frodo held his stomach until the none-too-graceful flip-flopping ceased.
“Do you sense the butterfly’s movements as well?” he said softly to the baby. “You certainly flap and flutter like one at times. Maybe we should name you after a butterfly, instead of after a flower, as cousin Pippin suggests.”
He stroked his belly, longing for the time when he would be able to touch his child’s fine hair and soft skin. “Though Aragorn says you’re floating in water right now…so perhaps you will be our little fish.” Frodo giggled at the picture that presented.
Thoughtfully, he looked past the garden to the little hill that lay beyond. If he remembered correctly, there was a pond full of large, orange fish on the other side of the hill.
Frodo thought of how relaxing it would be to sit and watch the fish swim; the butterflies were lovely but they weren’t the most calming creatures ever set down on Middle Earth.
Holding his belly with one hand, Frodo awkwardly slid from the stone seat. It was not that high, but he was not as agile as he had once been. With both feet planted firmly on the ground, he steadied himself. The feel of the Earth beneath his feet nearly started Frodo off into tears again; it *had* been too long a time since he had last walked outside.
As he passed the bright bed of flowers, Frodo saw that some of the plants were nearly overtaken by weeds. Shaking his head, he wondered how he had not noticed such an eyesore as he had sat looking at them earlier.
He knew he should simply tell Aragorn to have someone take care of them, but he couldn’t just leave them. Things of such beauty did not deserve to be choked out of existence just because someone was too careless to pay them attention; Sam had taught him that.
With some difficulty, Frodo bent down, pulling handfuls of the bothersome weeds up and tossing them into the grass beside the bed. When his back began to ache, Frodo knelt down, making his way through the flowers, row by row.
Surprisingly, Frodo soon found himself at the far edge of the flower bed. Looking up, he saw that it was now free of weeds and looking far prettier than before.
“Ah…much better,” Frodo said, with an affectionate pat to the earth. “You’ve been neglected, haven’t you?”
As he spoke, Frodo pushed himself from his sitting position up onto his knees. “Well, I’ll...” Frodo panted slightly as he made an attempt to hoist himself to his feet. “…see to it…that you are tended…” He made it to his feet with gargantuan effort and stood, stooped over, breathing heavily. “…from now on.” Belatedly, Frodo realized that weeding might not have been the best of ideas.
Frodo could feel his lungs burning with each new breath he took, and wished for something to lean against. He had not been very active lately, with Aragorn’s constant warnings of not overdoing things and, for the first time, Frodo thought he understood what the king had been talking about.
While he’d been immersed in his task, Frodo had been lost in his thoughts and the sounds of the birds and insects. His back had begun to hurt, but he had dismissed it as unimportant at the time. Now, however, he was feeling extremely uncomfortable.
The ache in his lower back seemed to pull from his spine, causing pain to spread outward to his neck and the backs of his arms and legs. Upset at himself for doing more than his already-overtaxed body would allow, Frodo blinked back tears of frustration and tried to decide what to do next.
He could see the guard still standing at the door and considered signaling for him. He didn’t want to go back inside the castle, but a nap on the soft, large feather bed did sound far too inviting to resist.
Just as he was about to wave his arms to catch the guard’s attention, he saw the guard turn away. Soon, another guard was at the door, and both men looked to be discussing something.
Frodo made his decision. He was already beginning to breathe a bit easier; he would go to the fish pond as he had originally intended and sit there for a while. When he was entirely rested again, he would go back to the castle.
Satisfied with his choice and smiling with the anticipation of seeing the fish again, Frodo walked slowly toward the small hill that led to the pond. The incline was slight, but by the time he reached the top Frodo was winded. The pain in his back was returning quickly and he was wishing he had not decided to cover such a distance alone.
He could not continue down the other side of hill, Frodo decided. The pounding of his heart and the jerking pains in his back were enough to deter him from wanting to see the fish. Perhaps he would come out another day, with Aragorn, and they could bring a picnic lunch to eat beside the pond.
Thinking of Aragorn made Frodo want to go back to the castle immediately. He longed to have a hot bath, to be held in Aragorn’s arms, but he simply did not have the energy. Feeling ever more exhausted and light-headed, Frodo began to worry. Did the guard see him? Was he still watching? Frodo could not tell at such a distance, but hoped that the guard was being vigilant.
With a sigh, Frodo looked down at the ground. It seemed to be very far away, where sitting was concerned, and with his current heavy bulk it would be even more difficult to do so…let alone to get back up. But it was either rest or walk back, and Frodo knew he could not do the latter right now. So he sat.
Frodo hit the ground with a resounding bump, his weight throwing him off balance and dragging him to the earth more quickly than he was prepared for. He cried out loudly as his tailbone connected with the ground and grasped his stomach with both hands as he felt himself falling.
Down the hillside Frodo tumbled, further shouts silenced by the sheer terror of being tossed against the grassy slope as he tried to protect the babe.
Peripherally, Frodo was aware of the back of his head, his cheek, his elbows, his wrist, his foot, hitting the ground as the bottom of the hill rushed up to meet him. The sting and the perpetual motion stole his remaining breath away, but his thoughts were only for his unborn child…Aragorn’s child. The heir to Gondor must not be lost.
Hands still clasped around his belly, Frodo was spared one more moment to hope that help arrived soon before he hit the water with a resounding splash that sent the fish swimming for safety to the other side of the pond.
~ end part 6 ~
Wanted to get at least this part written and up before the first day of school tomorrow... Between children and meetings and lesson plans and parent phone calls and the like, my energy for writing anything will be zapped from this point on. :( Crud. It's been a nice summer...