Happy Birthday to Lily!
Happy Birthday to lilybaggins!!! :) I suppose if I'd been thinking straight, I would've saved the birth part to post today, but you've seen it all anyway, so it probably doesn't make a difference. ;)
P.S. It is snowing. This pleases me. :D
Title: Burden, 10/?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mpreg, implied non-con, sorta-hermaphrodite Frodo (you'll see what I mean)
Acknowledgment: Many, many thanks to lilybaggins for her ideas, squeeing, and research for this fic. :)
Summary: Pre-Quest, a young hobbit finds himself lost and in some trouble far from home.
A/N: In which Frodo's cut is stitched and his condition monitored, and the babe is fed.
Burden, 1/?
Burden, 2/?
Burden, 3/?
Burden, 4/?
Burden, 5/?
Burden, 6/?
Burden, 7/?
Burden, 8/?
Burden, 9/?
Aragorn leaned over and took the babe from Halbarad, wrapping the towel around him so he'd stay warm for the moment, then placed him on the bed. Then Aragorn was right above Frodo, saying, "Frodo, I'm going to help you lie on the floor so Halbarad can get up."
Frodo nodded, then was being eased up by his shoulders and slid down off Halbarad's knees. Halbarad disappeared from behind him, and he felt a stirring of air before being laid down on his back upon a layer of blankets. Another blanket appeared on top of him -well, the top half of him. He could still feel air moving against his legs as he tried to keep them from shaking from cold or exhaustion or whatever it was that had his entire being shuddering like a leaf in a gale.
Aragorn touched his shoulder gently. "Frodo, I need to stitch up the cut I made. It may be uncomfortable."
Frodo sighed and nodded. He braced himself as Aragorn settled on the floor and eased Frodo's legs apart once again. Aragorn removed some wadding from the still-bleeding opening -funny, Frodo didn't remember having anything put there- and carefully washed the area. The Frodo caught the flash of a needle from the corner of his eye and he turned his head away.
Aragorn was right -it was uncomfortable. The needle prickled and the thread tugged, but it wasn't as painful as Frodo had been expecting. That was a mercy.
But it still seemed to drag on interminably, time stretching on endlessly until Aragorn finally said, "Finished." Unfortunately for Frodo, that was followed by, "You are bleeding more than I'd like. I'm hoping your body's natural reactions to birthing will halt the flow, but only time will tell. If it continues, I will need to examine you more deeply inside to be sure nothing has torn."
"Can I sleep?" Frodo asked petulantly. "I just want to sleep." Almost belatedly he added, "You examined me? I didn't even feel it."
"The wash water contained something to deaden the feeling somewhat, so the stitching would not be as painful. I am glad it worked."
Frodo stared at him mutely, waiting for him to answer the question. When he didn't, Frodo asked again, "So can I sleep?" As if for good measure, he yawned big enough to near split his face.
"You may close your eyes and rest, yes," Aragorn replied. "But I will need to check on you periodically to ensure the blood loss is not becoming too great for you to bear. Once I am certain the bleeding is dwindling, we will help you back into bed so you can rest more comfortably."
Frodo didn't bother responding. Instead, he closed his eyes and willed himself to get lost in the sounds of Halbarad washing the babe, the babe's senseless gurgling, and Aragorn stalking around the cabin cleaning up the mess of birth. Moments later -or so it seemed- Aragorn was touching his shoulder and whispering that he needed to check the bleeding. Thus it came as no surprise when there was a rush of cold air on his lower half and hands were between his legs, changing the wadding pressed there.
Then Aragorn was sitting down next to him, asking, "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," Frodo responded vaguely.
"I'm going to help you sit up, and I'd like you to drink something," Aragorn warned before slowly pushing him upright.
Frodo tried to help push himself up, but his arms were like loose strings dangling from his shoulders and refused to do anything beyond flailing a bit. When Aragorn got him all the way up, he gasped and had to screw his eyes shut for a minute, as the cabin insisted on lazily spinning 'round him. "Dizzy," he choked out before Aragorn asked what was the matter, and he could feel his heart pounding as he fought to maintain his equilibrium.
"I'm sorry, I should have let you sit up more slowly," Aragorn apologized, rubbing Frodo's back and patiently waiting for him to regain control. When at last the eyes opened again, Aragorn offered the cup he'd brought. "Here, drink this."
"What's in it?" Frodo asked cautiously, suspiciously eyeing the warm beverage.
"It's tea. The herbs should slow the bleeding."
Frodo managed control of a limb long enough to tip the cup enough for him to smell and sip it. Then, finding the contents not horribly disagreeable, he drank it. While he didn't much care whether he was bleeding or not, he knew it would be most expedient to simply do as he was told or he may never get to lie back down.
And he was right -shortly after he finished, he was being helped back down. But then Aragorn did something most unexpected- he didn't leave. Instead, he put the cup aside and began feeling Frodo's belly. No, not just feeling it, he was *rubbing* it. Frodo squirmed and demanded, "What are you doing?!"
"Some external stimulation can help the womb contract more readily," said Aragorn.
"So you're rubbing me?" Frodo asked in disbelief.
"If you wish to call it that."
And he continued without even pausing. Frodo wished he could think of some witty reply, but the most he could manage was to sputter indignantly, then resign himself to enduring it. There wasn't much else he could do. Eventually the Man appeared to grow bored with it and wandered off, so Frodo obligingly returned to his doze.
Then it started all over again. Aragorn came, checked and changed the cloths absorbing the blood, helped Frodo drink a cup of that tea, and rubbed Frodo's stomach for a while. It became abundantly clear that no matter what Frodo had to say about it, Aragorn was going to do it anyway, so Frodo at length decided to save himself the trouble and tried to sleep during the torture instead.
After a number of repetitions of this aggravation, Aragorn began to look worried. Even Frodo could tell. This time when Aragorn brought the drink, he sat behind Frodo to support him, and while Frodo drank, he began the rubbing already. Frodo considered protesting this change in routine, particularly since it was challenging to drink while feeling the previous cups sloshing around in his stomach. But he decided it would require too much effort to complain, and Aragorn did not appear in the mood to listen anyway. Aragorn kept him sitting upright even after he was finished with the tea, maintaining the "external stimulation" for quite a while, until Frodo urgently requested the chamber pot.
The attempt to use the pot turned out to be more challenging than Frodo had anticipated. His insides did not seem to want to cooperate long enough for him to relieve the tension, and when they did behave as they should, it ached so very badly. It took far more time than usual for him to finish his business, and at the end, he found himself hoping he would not need to repeat the experience for quite some time.
Aragorn finally let him lie back down after that, but if Frodo thought he would get a respite from the rubbing, he was sadly mistaken. The Man resumed right where he'd left off. Frodo sighed and tried to sleep -at least he could do that now. So his mind drifted, hearing but not really listening to the gurgles of the babe as Halbarad tended him and the drumming rain against the roof and sides of the cabin. He idly wondered what time it was, whether it was night or day, as he'd completely lost track.
Frodo was startled back to awareness when Aragorn said, "Halbarad, would you come here? You can put the babe in the basket there."
Frodo cracked his eyes open enough to see Halbarad come into view carrying the basket, which he put on the floor not far from Frodo's shoulder. The other Man squatted next to Aragorn, listening and watching carefully as Aragorn instructed him the proper way to massage Frodo's abdomen. Then another hand was on his stomach, carefully touching and exploring. It must have been acceptable, for Aragorn withdrew his hand and stood. He spent a few moments thoughtfully considering the contents of the bowl that he'd put on the table earlier, then he moved out of Frodo's sight.
He returned with a pitcher and basin and knelt beside Frodo's knees. "Frodo," he said gently. "Your bleeding is still heavier than normal, so I need to check inside to find out why. It will likely be uncomfortable." Frodo nodded, not entirely surprised. Aragorn folded back the quilt, helped bend Frodo's legs into place, then added another towel to the pile tucked under Frodo's rear. He removed the wadding and, after rolling up his sleeves and cleaning his hands, eased one hand inside.
It felt peculiar, to have something back inside as well as being rubbed on the outside. Aragorn's hand seemed to go impossibly far into him, then would stop and slowly retreat, putting pressure on a portion of the passage. Then the hand delved back in and slid out again, feeling a slightly different area. This occurred a number of times; Frodo assumed from the feel that Aragorn was thoroughly (and perhaps a little too thoroughly) looking for anything out of the ordinary in the passage. And he could tell from the Man's increasingly puzzled expression that he wasn't finding anything.
"Halbarad, stop a moment," Aragorn instructed, then said, "Frodo, I need to go a little deeper to make sure everything came out that should have. This may hurt."
Frodo steeled himself as the hand slowly inched inward, reaching the point where it had stopped before and continuing. Then came the painful part, and Frodo clamped his eyes closed and tried not to cry out. He couldn't tell what the Man was doing, he only knew it was stretching and pulling on already irritated tissues.
At long last Aragorn pulled his hand back, and Frodo became more aware of what was going on around him rather than being solely focused on the pain. The babe was crying. Aragorn still looked concerned, his hand smeared with Frodo's blood which he was washing off. Halbarad was pacing, holding the babe and seemingly trying to coax it to take some milk from a spoon. Frodo only watched and observed, feeling rather distant from what he was seeing.
Aragorn stepped outside to dispose of the dirty water, feeling that he was overlooking something important, something obvious that would help Frodo's bleeding problem. His mind went back over long hours of the birth, the hobbit's condition previously... wait. That was it! He hurried back into the cabin.
Frodo was startled from a light dream by his blanket being flung off his shoulders and his borrowed shirt's lacing being untied. "Wha...?" he mumbled.
"Are you still sore here?" Aragorn asked, prodding none too gently around one nipple.
Frodo yelped and tried to bat his hands away.
"Good." Aragorn then proceeded to pinch lightly, drawing some fluid to the surface. "Excellent. Halbarad, bring the babe here." Aragorn commanded as he unceremoniously pushed Frodo up to sitting and settled behind the hobbit. "Frodo, I'm going to have you try to feed the babe."
"What?" Frodo asked muzzily, his head still spinning from sitting up and his mind not yet entirely focused after being so rudely awakened.
"You are going to let the babe nurse," Aragorn said, taking the still squalling babe from Halbarad and holding him in front of Frodo. "You'll need to hold him, first."
Frodo reluctantly allowed Aragorn to settle the babe in his arms; he'd not yet held the child, and he was heavier than Frodo had expected. At least he was far cleaner than previously. The babe stopped screaming, apparently intrigued by this new person holding him.
"Now hold him up so he can reach your nipple," Aragorn directed, placing one arm beneath Frodo's and urging them upward, then using his other hand to guide the babe's head to the proper spot. He latched on greedily, and Frodo gasped in surprise. "Then you let him do the work." Now that the babe was settled, Aragorn let his hand return to the massaging of Frodo's womb, hoping that he would soon feel Frodo's body responding to the child's stimulus.
Frodo gaped in astonishment as the babe sucked at him, apparently getting what he wanted, for he appeared content. The sensations were exceedingly strange, and Frodo wasn't entirely certain what to think of this. He would never have thought this was even possible, much less that it would happen to him. Yes, he'd seen hobbit women feeding their babes before, but seeing it and doing it are two completely separate things.
Frodo's arms were quickly growing tired, and the babe seemed to grow increasingly dissatisfied before he finally pulled away from the nipple and whimpered. "What now?" Frodo asked desperately.
"We move him to the other side," Aragorn said reassuringly and helped Frodo turn the babe around, cautioning him to always keep a careful hold on the babe's head. The child returned to sucking contentedly, and Frodo seemed to sag against Aragorn, no doubt growing weary. But what had Aragorn's attention was what he could feel beneath his fingertips. Frodo's womb was finally tightening of its own accord, without needing his touch to maintain the tension. He'd found no tears or injuries inside, so the bleeding should now slow on its own. He breathed a nearly audible sigh of relief.
When the babe had finished on the second side, Aragorn had Halbarad take the babe to burp and settle down. He tended to Frodo, helping the half-asleep hobbit lie down, then checking the bleeding. As he'd hoped, it had slowed to a more reasonable flow. "Good news, Frodo. You're not bleeding as badly anymore. You can go to sleep on the bed now."
A small smile appeared briefly on Frodo's tired face. "So I'm not bleeding anymore?"
"No, there's still a bit. You will have some discharge for several days, which is normal after birth. And we'll still need to rub your abdomen periodically in upcoming days to encourage your womb to return to its normal size."
"I see," Frodo said slowly, even though he didn't, not quite. "I can really sleep now?"
"Yes, you can really sleep," Aragorn chuckled, finishing replacing the loose bandage of sorts between Frodo's legs.
"Good," Frodo said. And he did just that, not even waiting until he was resting upon the softness of the mattress.
~~~~~~
Continued here.
P.S. It is snowing. This pleases me. :D
Title: Burden, 10/?
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mpreg, implied non-con, sorta-hermaphrodite Frodo (you'll see what I mean)
Acknowledgment: Many, many thanks to lilybaggins for her ideas, squeeing, and research for this fic. :)
Summary: Pre-Quest, a young hobbit finds himself lost and in some trouble far from home.
A/N: In which Frodo's cut is stitched and his condition monitored, and the babe is fed.
Burden, 1/?
Burden, 2/?
Burden, 3/?
Burden, 4/?
Burden, 5/?
Burden, 6/?
Burden, 7/?
Burden, 8/?
Burden, 9/?
Aragorn leaned over and took the babe from Halbarad, wrapping the towel around him so he'd stay warm for the moment, then placed him on the bed. Then Aragorn was right above Frodo, saying, "Frodo, I'm going to help you lie on the floor so Halbarad can get up."
Frodo nodded, then was being eased up by his shoulders and slid down off Halbarad's knees. Halbarad disappeared from behind him, and he felt a stirring of air before being laid down on his back upon a layer of blankets. Another blanket appeared on top of him -well, the top half of him. He could still feel air moving against his legs as he tried to keep them from shaking from cold or exhaustion or whatever it was that had his entire being shuddering like a leaf in a gale.
Aragorn touched his shoulder gently. "Frodo, I need to stitch up the cut I made. It may be uncomfortable."
Frodo sighed and nodded. He braced himself as Aragorn settled on the floor and eased Frodo's legs apart once again. Aragorn removed some wadding from the still-bleeding opening -funny, Frodo didn't remember having anything put there- and carefully washed the area. The Frodo caught the flash of a needle from the corner of his eye and he turned his head away.
Aragorn was right -it was uncomfortable. The needle prickled and the thread tugged, but it wasn't as painful as Frodo had been expecting. That was a mercy.
But it still seemed to drag on interminably, time stretching on endlessly until Aragorn finally said, "Finished." Unfortunately for Frodo, that was followed by, "You are bleeding more than I'd like. I'm hoping your body's natural reactions to birthing will halt the flow, but only time will tell. If it continues, I will need to examine you more deeply inside to be sure nothing has torn."
"Can I sleep?" Frodo asked petulantly. "I just want to sleep." Almost belatedly he added, "You examined me? I didn't even feel it."
"The wash water contained something to deaden the feeling somewhat, so the stitching would not be as painful. I am glad it worked."
Frodo stared at him mutely, waiting for him to answer the question. When he didn't, Frodo asked again, "So can I sleep?" As if for good measure, he yawned big enough to near split his face.
"You may close your eyes and rest, yes," Aragorn replied. "But I will need to check on you periodically to ensure the blood loss is not becoming too great for you to bear. Once I am certain the bleeding is dwindling, we will help you back into bed so you can rest more comfortably."
Frodo didn't bother responding. Instead, he closed his eyes and willed himself to get lost in the sounds of Halbarad washing the babe, the babe's senseless gurgling, and Aragorn stalking around the cabin cleaning up the mess of birth. Moments later -or so it seemed- Aragorn was touching his shoulder and whispering that he needed to check the bleeding. Thus it came as no surprise when there was a rush of cold air on his lower half and hands were between his legs, changing the wadding pressed there.
Then Aragorn was sitting down next to him, asking, "How are you feeling?"
"Sleepy," Frodo responded vaguely.
"I'm going to help you sit up, and I'd like you to drink something," Aragorn warned before slowly pushing him upright.
Frodo tried to help push himself up, but his arms were like loose strings dangling from his shoulders and refused to do anything beyond flailing a bit. When Aragorn got him all the way up, he gasped and had to screw his eyes shut for a minute, as the cabin insisted on lazily spinning 'round him. "Dizzy," he choked out before Aragorn asked what was the matter, and he could feel his heart pounding as he fought to maintain his equilibrium.
"I'm sorry, I should have let you sit up more slowly," Aragorn apologized, rubbing Frodo's back and patiently waiting for him to regain control. When at last the eyes opened again, Aragorn offered the cup he'd brought. "Here, drink this."
"What's in it?" Frodo asked cautiously, suspiciously eyeing the warm beverage.
"It's tea. The herbs should slow the bleeding."
Frodo managed control of a limb long enough to tip the cup enough for him to smell and sip it. Then, finding the contents not horribly disagreeable, he drank it. While he didn't much care whether he was bleeding or not, he knew it would be most expedient to simply do as he was told or he may never get to lie back down.
And he was right -shortly after he finished, he was being helped back down. But then Aragorn did something most unexpected- he didn't leave. Instead, he put the cup aside and began feeling Frodo's belly. No, not just feeling it, he was *rubbing* it. Frodo squirmed and demanded, "What are you doing?!"
"Some external stimulation can help the womb contract more readily," said Aragorn.
"So you're rubbing me?" Frodo asked in disbelief.
"If you wish to call it that."
And he continued without even pausing. Frodo wished he could think of some witty reply, but the most he could manage was to sputter indignantly, then resign himself to enduring it. There wasn't much else he could do. Eventually the Man appeared to grow bored with it and wandered off, so Frodo obligingly returned to his doze.
Then it started all over again. Aragorn came, checked and changed the cloths absorbing the blood, helped Frodo drink a cup of that tea, and rubbed Frodo's stomach for a while. It became abundantly clear that no matter what Frodo had to say about it, Aragorn was going to do it anyway, so Frodo at length decided to save himself the trouble and tried to sleep during the torture instead.
After a number of repetitions of this aggravation, Aragorn began to look worried. Even Frodo could tell. This time when Aragorn brought the drink, he sat behind Frodo to support him, and while Frodo drank, he began the rubbing already. Frodo considered protesting this change in routine, particularly since it was challenging to drink while feeling the previous cups sloshing around in his stomach. But he decided it would require too much effort to complain, and Aragorn did not appear in the mood to listen anyway. Aragorn kept him sitting upright even after he was finished with the tea, maintaining the "external stimulation" for quite a while, until Frodo urgently requested the chamber pot.
The attempt to use the pot turned out to be more challenging than Frodo had anticipated. His insides did not seem to want to cooperate long enough for him to relieve the tension, and when they did behave as they should, it ached so very badly. It took far more time than usual for him to finish his business, and at the end, he found himself hoping he would not need to repeat the experience for quite some time.
Aragorn finally let him lie back down after that, but if Frodo thought he would get a respite from the rubbing, he was sadly mistaken. The Man resumed right where he'd left off. Frodo sighed and tried to sleep -at least he could do that now. So his mind drifted, hearing but not really listening to the gurgles of the babe as Halbarad tended him and the drumming rain against the roof and sides of the cabin. He idly wondered what time it was, whether it was night or day, as he'd completely lost track.
Frodo was startled back to awareness when Aragorn said, "Halbarad, would you come here? You can put the babe in the basket there."
Frodo cracked his eyes open enough to see Halbarad come into view carrying the basket, which he put on the floor not far from Frodo's shoulder. The other Man squatted next to Aragorn, listening and watching carefully as Aragorn instructed him the proper way to massage Frodo's abdomen. Then another hand was on his stomach, carefully touching and exploring. It must have been acceptable, for Aragorn withdrew his hand and stood. He spent a few moments thoughtfully considering the contents of the bowl that he'd put on the table earlier, then he moved out of Frodo's sight.
He returned with a pitcher and basin and knelt beside Frodo's knees. "Frodo," he said gently. "Your bleeding is still heavier than normal, so I need to check inside to find out why. It will likely be uncomfortable." Frodo nodded, not entirely surprised. Aragorn folded back the quilt, helped bend Frodo's legs into place, then added another towel to the pile tucked under Frodo's rear. He removed the wadding and, after rolling up his sleeves and cleaning his hands, eased one hand inside.
It felt peculiar, to have something back inside as well as being rubbed on the outside. Aragorn's hand seemed to go impossibly far into him, then would stop and slowly retreat, putting pressure on a portion of the passage. Then the hand delved back in and slid out again, feeling a slightly different area. This occurred a number of times; Frodo assumed from the feel that Aragorn was thoroughly (and perhaps a little too thoroughly) looking for anything out of the ordinary in the passage. And he could tell from the Man's increasingly puzzled expression that he wasn't finding anything.
"Halbarad, stop a moment," Aragorn instructed, then said, "Frodo, I need to go a little deeper to make sure everything came out that should have. This may hurt."
Frodo steeled himself as the hand slowly inched inward, reaching the point where it had stopped before and continuing. Then came the painful part, and Frodo clamped his eyes closed and tried not to cry out. He couldn't tell what the Man was doing, he only knew it was stretching and pulling on already irritated tissues.
At long last Aragorn pulled his hand back, and Frodo became more aware of what was going on around him rather than being solely focused on the pain. The babe was crying. Aragorn still looked concerned, his hand smeared with Frodo's blood which he was washing off. Halbarad was pacing, holding the babe and seemingly trying to coax it to take some milk from a spoon. Frodo only watched and observed, feeling rather distant from what he was seeing.
Aragorn stepped outside to dispose of the dirty water, feeling that he was overlooking something important, something obvious that would help Frodo's bleeding problem. His mind went back over long hours of the birth, the hobbit's condition previously... wait. That was it! He hurried back into the cabin.
Frodo was startled from a light dream by his blanket being flung off his shoulders and his borrowed shirt's lacing being untied. "Wha...?" he mumbled.
"Are you still sore here?" Aragorn asked, prodding none too gently around one nipple.
Frodo yelped and tried to bat his hands away.
"Good." Aragorn then proceeded to pinch lightly, drawing some fluid to the surface. "Excellent. Halbarad, bring the babe here." Aragorn commanded as he unceremoniously pushed Frodo up to sitting and settled behind the hobbit. "Frodo, I'm going to have you try to feed the babe."
"What?" Frodo asked muzzily, his head still spinning from sitting up and his mind not yet entirely focused after being so rudely awakened.
"You are going to let the babe nurse," Aragorn said, taking the still squalling babe from Halbarad and holding him in front of Frodo. "You'll need to hold him, first."
Frodo reluctantly allowed Aragorn to settle the babe in his arms; he'd not yet held the child, and he was heavier than Frodo had expected. At least he was far cleaner than previously. The babe stopped screaming, apparently intrigued by this new person holding him.
"Now hold him up so he can reach your nipple," Aragorn directed, placing one arm beneath Frodo's and urging them upward, then using his other hand to guide the babe's head to the proper spot. He latched on greedily, and Frodo gasped in surprise. "Then you let him do the work." Now that the babe was settled, Aragorn let his hand return to the massaging of Frodo's womb, hoping that he would soon feel Frodo's body responding to the child's stimulus.
Frodo gaped in astonishment as the babe sucked at him, apparently getting what he wanted, for he appeared content. The sensations were exceedingly strange, and Frodo wasn't entirely certain what to think of this. He would never have thought this was even possible, much less that it would happen to him. Yes, he'd seen hobbit women feeding their babes before, but seeing it and doing it are two completely separate things.
Frodo's arms were quickly growing tired, and the babe seemed to grow increasingly dissatisfied before he finally pulled away from the nipple and whimpered. "What now?" Frodo asked desperately.
"We move him to the other side," Aragorn said reassuringly and helped Frodo turn the babe around, cautioning him to always keep a careful hold on the babe's head. The child returned to sucking contentedly, and Frodo seemed to sag against Aragorn, no doubt growing weary. But what had Aragorn's attention was what he could feel beneath his fingertips. Frodo's womb was finally tightening of its own accord, without needing his touch to maintain the tension. He'd found no tears or injuries inside, so the bleeding should now slow on its own. He breathed a nearly audible sigh of relief.
When the babe had finished on the second side, Aragorn had Halbarad take the babe to burp and settle down. He tended to Frodo, helping the half-asleep hobbit lie down, then checking the bleeding. As he'd hoped, it had slowed to a more reasonable flow. "Good news, Frodo. You're not bleeding as badly anymore. You can go to sleep on the bed now."
A small smile appeared briefly on Frodo's tired face. "So I'm not bleeding anymore?"
"No, there's still a bit. You will have some discharge for several days, which is normal after birth. And we'll still need to rub your abdomen periodically in upcoming days to encourage your womb to return to its normal size."
"I see," Frodo said slowly, even though he didn't, not quite. "I can really sleep now?"
"Yes, you can really sleep," Aragorn chuckled, finishing replacing the loose bandage of sorts between Frodo's legs.
"Good," Frodo said. And he did just that, not even waiting until he was resting upon the softness of the mattress.
~~~~~~
Continued here.