mpreg ficlet: Illness, part 2 -Recovery
So, here's the concluding part of "Illness," which I posted like yesterday or the day before (hey, look! She's being prolific! :p). Yes, I spell-checked it, and surprisingly it didn't find anything. Guess I'm not always bad with words when I'm so tired. But anyway, here you go. Again, it could be more in-depth, but I think I'll come back to this ficlet and the one before and expand on them, so I'll leave the details for that more thorough version. :)
Note: it picks up basically right where the other left off. And I'm dedicating this chapter and the previous one to elwenlj, because I never did post anything for her birthday *cough*lastfall*cough* even though I said I would (what I'd intended to post is still in the works, alas). :p
_part 2, Recovery_
Much to Frodo's chagrin, Elrond didn't leave him be for what he considered to be a decent amount of time. Every couple of hours or so, the elf lord would force more soup or water, or both, and often some tincture or tonic as well, on him, and he had to cooperate or else Elrond wouldn't let him go back to sleep until he did. A most unfair tactic in Frodo's opinion.
Elrond tried to rouse the hobbit only enough that he would be responsive and be able to swallow, but apparently carrying the babe made him sleep less deeply than had been his wont. There were a few occasions he was successful in not completely waking Frodo; those times he inflicted the bitter brews on the hobbit, since he wasn't adequately aware to protest them.
After a day of such treatment, Frodo began to grow suspicious. "Have you gone soft?" he asked bluntly. "Nothing has tasted bad." Elrond did not allow himself to respond for fear of giving away his secret. Had it not been for his weariness, Frodo would have investigated the matter further, but he was asleep again before he had thought of something else to say.
Frodo slept in such a manner for the next two days; when Bilbo expressed his concern, Elrond assured him Frodo was recovering as well as he possibly could, under the circumstances. The morning of 3 Afteryule marked the first time Frodo woke of his own accord since his long sleep began, and he questioned Elrond about it as well.
"I've been sleeping quite a bit," he observed casually once Elrond had come in and began checking him over. "Was it really that bad?"
"Was it really how bad?"
"Bad enough to make me feel so tired and weak. I know that even if I tried, I probably couldn't get off the bed and stand there on my own."
Elrond swept an appraising glance over him. "No, you could not. Not yet. And the answer to your question is yes, and no."
Frodo threw up his hands in exasperation. "Elves," he groaned. Crossing his arms, he glared at Elrond. "Explain."
"Yes, you were very ill for several days. Worse than Bilbo was, in fact. But no, your weakness does not derive wholly from being ill."
"From what, then?" he asked insistently, already beginning to droop against the pillows again.
"Your child. Babes draw all they need in nourishment and water from their parent, regardless of the health and well-being of that parent. So while you were ill, you were not able to keep down much at all, yet the babe continued to use up the same amount of energy as when you are healthy, quite effectively draining your strength."
Frodo listened to this explanation wide-eyed. Elrond continued, "Had you remained so ill for much longer, it may not have ended well." Bilbo cast him a questioning glance from his chair by the bed and started to make a comment -he knew too well the moments of fear and doubt they'd endured while Frodo was so sick, and didn't understand why his old friend was making it sound so trivial- but Elrond shook his head tersely and motioned for him to remain silent.
Frodo did not see the exchange, and said meekly, "You mean one or both of us could have then died."
The answer was succinct. "Indeed."
"Oh." He shrunk back against his backrest of cushions, feeling so very foolish for having taken such a chance with his life and the life he bore. "I'm sorry."
Elrond regarded him seriously. "I hope you realize that the directions I give are intended to guard your health."
Bilbo couldn't stand the reprimand or seeing Frodo sit there like a chastened child any longer. "That's enough, Elrond. I think he's more than realized his error." Climbing from the chair, he used his step stool to get onto the bed and settled next to Frodo, a protective mother hen between the stern elf lord and his dear boy. "Frodo, don't mind him. He's just trying to scare you into behaving," he said softly.
"I think it's working," Frodo whispered back, grateful for the comfort his uncle offered.
Elrond inclined his head in acknowledgment of their quiet conversation. "That is all I have to say on the matter. Now, Frodo, before you take another nap, you need to eat." He motioned forward the elf that had entered silently toward the end of his exchange with Frodo, and the tray he carried was placed over the hobbit's lap on the legs given it for such a purpose.
Frodo was relieved to see only a bowl and a mug on the tray. He started to reach for the spoon, but Bilbo stopped him. "I'll do that, lad."
Elrond left them to their own devices once he was sure Bilbo would ensure Frodo ate enough, their laughter at some comment of Bilbo's chasing him out of the room.
After Frodo had slowly eaten all the soup and carefully drank the tea, Bilbo sent the elf away with the tray before climbing down from the bed. "Now, for afters-" he began.
"Afters?" Frodo protested. "I'm quite full, Bilbo."
"Ah, but I think you'll appreciate this," he said, going to the fireplace and pulling a kettle forward from the back corner where it was keeping warm. He lifted the lid and sniffed appreciatively, then found the wooden mug he'd kept behind and poured some of the liquid into it.
Frodo was quite curious what his cousin was doing, trying in vain to get a clear view from the bed. After sipping it and smacking his lips contentedly, Bilbo returned to the bed, handing Frodo the mug before climbing back up. "It's some of the mulled cider from Yule. I saved it for you since I know you like it so." "Oh, Bilbo," Frodo said with a smile. "Thank you." He took an uncertain sip, then grew bolder and drank readily. "That was very good," he sighed when he finished, and then yawned.
"You just lie back now," Bilbo instructed, "and I'll take that mug. Now get some sleep, Frodo-lad." He awkwardly helped his cousin arrange the bedding to his satisfaction, and Frodo quickly gave in to slumber. Bilbo dropped the mug on the bedside table and abruptly decided he could do with a nap as well. His nap schedule had been thrown woefully off-track with all that had happened of late, and truth be told, he knew he was still fighting off the last of the flu himself. So without compunction he settled down in his bed next to Frodo, and soon was sleeping himself.
When Elrond went to check on Frodo later, he found the pair resting peacefully, Bilbo's arm around Frodo and Frodo pressed in close to his cousin's side. He decided to leave them be for now; Frodo would only get upset if he disturbed him yet again, and he was certain the hobbit would have to wake up soon enough. With as much liquids as he'd been drinking, Frodo would doubtless need to heed the call of nature. He could simply take advantage of the situation and use the opportunity to urge more water.
~~~~
"But I want to go."
"You should not venture that far yet."
"You said I need to get stronger. What better way than to take a walk and stretch myself a bit?"
"There is a vast difference between stretching yourself a bit and pushing yourself beyond a reasonable limit."
Frodo stood beside his bed -he'd moved back to his room nearly a week before- and glowered at Elrond. All he wanted was to go to the bathing room, take a nice relaxing bath... but that elf insisted it would be too far for him. "It's closer here than it is from Bilbo's room."
"You also never tried going from Bilbo's room."
"I know. I'm just making a point that it's not as far as it could be."
"It is still much too far for you to manage yet," Elrond insisted. For a few moments, he couldn't believe he was having this argument with a being half his size, and pregnant to boot, but then he realized it made perfect sense considering the past history of his patient.
"Then why don't you follow me and watch me make it there?" Frodo challenged. Perhaps he was pushing Elrond a little too far, but he was tired of the constant boundaries and limits to what he could and could not do. He was an adult, he should be able to define for himself what he is capable of.
Elrond sighed, but acquiesced. "All right. You may walk to the baths, but I will follow you, and if you do not make it as you seem so sure you will, you will not be allowed out of bed for another week."
"Fine," Frodo snapped, tightening the belt of his robe about his growing waist -how was it that one babe could seem so big? At least he still had more room before the robe wouldn't cover him sufficiently. He marched out of his room, head held high.
Elrond followed a few paces back, considering whether he had perhaps underestimated this halfling. Frodo had, after all, been recovering nicely for the past two weeks, even so far as moving back to his room under his own power. But he doubted Frodo's endurance, and his endurance is what must be shored up and strengthened in the ever-shortening time until his child's birth. Still, Frodo was right in that he needed to keep pushing himself...
The corridor to the baths never seemed longer, but Frodo forced himself to continue doggedly on, acutely aware of the elven gaze boring into his back. At last he came to the doorway; marching right in, he went in a bit, then turned around and crossed his arms as he stared at Elrond. "See? I made it."
"Indeed you did. For the next week, I'd like you to have someone accompany you here and back, but after that, I will allow you free rein to come and go from the baths as you please." He was somewhat surprised, but rather relieved as well. He hadn't been looking forward to trying to keep Frodo in bed for yet another week.
"Thank you, Lord Elrond. I appreciate it."
"Now I shall leave you to your bath. How long would you like before someone comes to fetch you?"
"At least a half hour."
Elrond nodded and exited, pulling the door closed behind him. Frodo turned and surveyed the baths, deciding which to choose. He finally picked the nearest one, and pulling a towel from the wall rack to leave by the side for when he was done, he quickly shed his robe and immersed himself in the warm water with a contented sigh.
When Bilbo came in at the end of the prescribed half hour, he found Frodo dozing. "At least it's one of the shallow tubs," he muttered to himself before gingerly crouching next to his nephew's head and rubbing his shoulder. At length Frodo awoke, confused, and Bilbo had to prompt him. "Remember? You insisted on coming to the baths..."
"...and I made it. Elrond left, and I guess I fell asleep in the tub..." Frodo mumbled. Then a thought occurred to him. "Don't tell Elrond! He won't let me come back for at least a week if he finds out."
"I won't breathe a word of this," he assured him, patting his shoulder. "Now, you'd best hurry up or Elrond will wonder what's taking you so long."
A quick duck under, a cursory slosh of soap on his body, and Frodo was climbing back out of the tub, Bilbo holding his towel at the ready. "Thank you, Bilbo."
"You're more than welcome, my boy. More than welcome. Now, I think you should take a nap once you get back to your room..."
Note: it picks up basically right where the other left off. And I'm dedicating this chapter and the previous one to elwenlj, because I never did post anything for her birthday *cough*lastfall*cough* even though I said I would (what I'd intended to post is still in the works, alas). :p
_part 2, Recovery_
Much to Frodo's chagrin, Elrond didn't leave him be for what he considered to be a decent amount of time. Every couple of hours or so, the elf lord would force more soup or water, or both, and often some tincture or tonic as well, on him, and he had to cooperate or else Elrond wouldn't let him go back to sleep until he did. A most unfair tactic in Frodo's opinion.
Elrond tried to rouse the hobbit only enough that he would be responsive and be able to swallow, but apparently carrying the babe made him sleep less deeply than had been his wont. There were a few occasions he was successful in not completely waking Frodo; those times he inflicted the bitter brews on the hobbit, since he wasn't adequately aware to protest them.
After a day of such treatment, Frodo began to grow suspicious. "Have you gone soft?" he asked bluntly. "Nothing has tasted bad." Elrond did not allow himself to respond for fear of giving away his secret. Had it not been for his weariness, Frodo would have investigated the matter further, but he was asleep again before he had thought of something else to say.
Frodo slept in such a manner for the next two days; when Bilbo expressed his concern, Elrond assured him Frodo was recovering as well as he possibly could, under the circumstances. The morning of 3 Afteryule marked the first time Frodo woke of his own accord since his long sleep began, and he questioned Elrond about it as well.
"I've been sleeping quite a bit," he observed casually once Elrond had come in and began checking him over. "Was it really that bad?"
"Was it really how bad?"
"Bad enough to make me feel so tired and weak. I know that even if I tried, I probably couldn't get off the bed and stand there on my own."
Elrond swept an appraising glance over him. "No, you could not. Not yet. And the answer to your question is yes, and no."
Frodo threw up his hands in exasperation. "Elves," he groaned. Crossing his arms, he glared at Elrond. "Explain."
"Yes, you were very ill for several days. Worse than Bilbo was, in fact. But no, your weakness does not derive wholly from being ill."
"From what, then?" he asked insistently, already beginning to droop against the pillows again.
"Your child. Babes draw all they need in nourishment and water from their parent, regardless of the health and well-being of that parent. So while you were ill, you were not able to keep down much at all, yet the babe continued to use up the same amount of energy as when you are healthy, quite effectively draining your strength."
Frodo listened to this explanation wide-eyed. Elrond continued, "Had you remained so ill for much longer, it may not have ended well." Bilbo cast him a questioning glance from his chair by the bed and started to make a comment -he knew too well the moments of fear and doubt they'd endured while Frodo was so sick, and didn't understand why his old friend was making it sound so trivial- but Elrond shook his head tersely and motioned for him to remain silent.
Frodo did not see the exchange, and said meekly, "You mean one or both of us could have then died."
The answer was succinct. "Indeed."
"Oh." He shrunk back against his backrest of cushions, feeling so very foolish for having taken such a chance with his life and the life he bore. "I'm sorry."
Elrond regarded him seriously. "I hope you realize that the directions I give are intended to guard your health."
Bilbo couldn't stand the reprimand or seeing Frodo sit there like a chastened child any longer. "That's enough, Elrond. I think he's more than realized his error." Climbing from the chair, he used his step stool to get onto the bed and settled next to Frodo, a protective mother hen between the stern elf lord and his dear boy. "Frodo, don't mind him. He's just trying to scare you into behaving," he said softly.
"I think it's working," Frodo whispered back, grateful for the comfort his uncle offered.
Elrond inclined his head in acknowledgment of their quiet conversation. "That is all I have to say on the matter. Now, Frodo, before you take another nap, you need to eat." He motioned forward the elf that had entered silently toward the end of his exchange with Frodo, and the tray he carried was placed over the hobbit's lap on the legs given it for such a purpose.
Frodo was relieved to see only a bowl and a mug on the tray. He started to reach for the spoon, but Bilbo stopped him. "I'll do that, lad."
Elrond left them to their own devices once he was sure Bilbo would ensure Frodo ate enough, their laughter at some comment of Bilbo's chasing him out of the room.
After Frodo had slowly eaten all the soup and carefully drank the tea, Bilbo sent the elf away with the tray before climbing down from the bed. "Now, for afters-" he began.
"Afters?" Frodo protested. "I'm quite full, Bilbo."
"Ah, but I think you'll appreciate this," he said, going to the fireplace and pulling a kettle forward from the back corner where it was keeping warm. He lifted the lid and sniffed appreciatively, then found the wooden mug he'd kept behind and poured some of the liquid into it.
Frodo was quite curious what his cousin was doing, trying in vain to get a clear view from the bed. After sipping it and smacking his lips contentedly, Bilbo returned to the bed, handing Frodo the mug before climbing back up. "It's some of the mulled cider from Yule. I saved it for you since I know you like it so." "Oh, Bilbo," Frodo said with a smile. "Thank you." He took an uncertain sip, then grew bolder and drank readily. "That was very good," he sighed when he finished, and then yawned.
"You just lie back now," Bilbo instructed, "and I'll take that mug. Now get some sleep, Frodo-lad." He awkwardly helped his cousin arrange the bedding to his satisfaction, and Frodo quickly gave in to slumber. Bilbo dropped the mug on the bedside table and abruptly decided he could do with a nap as well. His nap schedule had been thrown woefully off-track with all that had happened of late, and truth be told, he knew he was still fighting off the last of the flu himself. So without compunction he settled down in his bed next to Frodo, and soon was sleeping himself.
When Elrond went to check on Frodo later, he found the pair resting peacefully, Bilbo's arm around Frodo and Frodo pressed in close to his cousin's side. He decided to leave them be for now; Frodo would only get upset if he disturbed him yet again, and he was certain the hobbit would have to wake up soon enough. With as much liquids as he'd been drinking, Frodo would doubtless need to heed the call of nature. He could simply take advantage of the situation and use the opportunity to urge more water.
~~~~
"But I want to go."
"You should not venture that far yet."
"You said I need to get stronger. What better way than to take a walk and stretch myself a bit?"
"There is a vast difference between stretching yourself a bit and pushing yourself beyond a reasonable limit."
Frodo stood beside his bed -he'd moved back to his room nearly a week before- and glowered at Elrond. All he wanted was to go to the bathing room, take a nice relaxing bath... but that elf insisted it would be too far for him. "It's closer here than it is from Bilbo's room."
"You also never tried going from Bilbo's room."
"I know. I'm just making a point that it's not as far as it could be."
"It is still much too far for you to manage yet," Elrond insisted. For a few moments, he couldn't believe he was having this argument with a being half his size, and pregnant to boot, but then he realized it made perfect sense considering the past history of his patient.
"Then why don't you follow me and watch me make it there?" Frodo challenged. Perhaps he was pushing Elrond a little too far, but he was tired of the constant boundaries and limits to what he could and could not do. He was an adult, he should be able to define for himself what he is capable of.
Elrond sighed, but acquiesced. "All right. You may walk to the baths, but I will follow you, and if you do not make it as you seem so sure you will, you will not be allowed out of bed for another week."
"Fine," Frodo snapped, tightening the belt of his robe about his growing waist -how was it that one babe could seem so big? At least he still had more room before the robe wouldn't cover him sufficiently. He marched out of his room, head held high.
Elrond followed a few paces back, considering whether he had perhaps underestimated this halfling. Frodo had, after all, been recovering nicely for the past two weeks, even so far as moving back to his room under his own power. But he doubted Frodo's endurance, and his endurance is what must be shored up and strengthened in the ever-shortening time until his child's birth. Still, Frodo was right in that he needed to keep pushing himself...
The corridor to the baths never seemed longer, but Frodo forced himself to continue doggedly on, acutely aware of the elven gaze boring into his back. At last he came to the doorway; marching right in, he went in a bit, then turned around and crossed his arms as he stared at Elrond. "See? I made it."
"Indeed you did. For the next week, I'd like you to have someone accompany you here and back, but after that, I will allow you free rein to come and go from the baths as you please." He was somewhat surprised, but rather relieved as well. He hadn't been looking forward to trying to keep Frodo in bed for yet another week.
"Thank you, Lord Elrond. I appreciate it."
"Now I shall leave you to your bath. How long would you like before someone comes to fetch you?"
"At least a half hour."
Elrond nodded and exited, pulling the door closed behind him. Frodo turned and surveyed the baths, deciding which to choose. He finally picked the nearest one, and pulling a towel from the wall rack to leave by the side for when he was done, he quickly shed his robe and immersed himself in the warm water with a contented sigh.
When Bilbo came in at the end of the prescribed half hour, he found Frodo dozing. "At least it's one of the shallow tubs," he muttered to himself before gingerly crouching next to his nephew's head and rubbing his shoulder. At length Frodo awoke, confused, and Bilbo had to prompt him. "Remember? You insisted on coming to the baths..."
"...and I made it. Elrond left, and I guess I fell asleep in the tub..." Frodo mumbled. Then a thought occurred to him. "Don't tell Elrond! He won't let me come back for at least a week if he finds out."
"I won't breathe a word of this," he assured him, patting his shoulder. "Now, you'd best hurry up or Elrond will wonder what's taking you so long."
A quick duck under, a cursory slosh of soap on his body, and Frodo was climbing back out of the tub, Bilbo holding his towel at the ready. "Thank you, Bilbo."
"You're more than welcome, my boy. More than welcome. Now, I think you should take a nap once you get back to your room..."