Fic: Burden, 14/?
Title: Burden, 14/?
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 they risk the trip to Bree to help Frodo recover.
Burden, 1/?
Burden, 2/?
Burden, 3/?
Burden, 4/?
Burden, 5/?
Burden, 6/?
Burden, 7/?
Burden, 8/?
Burden, 9/?
Burden, 10/?
Burden, 11/?
Burden, 12/?
Burden, 13/?
Aragorn was just about ready to rouse Frodo to be dressed for the outdoors when he became aware of hoofbeats approaching. He drew his sword and slipped outside, staying close to the walls of the cabin so the intruder could not discern him in the pre-dawn dimness. The horse slowed as it came into the clearing, and the rider dismounted. "Who goes there?" Aragorn demanded.
"It is Halbarad," came the amused response.
"I did not expect you to return so soon, or with the horse," Aragorn said, relaxing and emerging from the shadow of the building.
"Nor did I," Halbarad answered, patting the horse's flank. "But Mahlon insisted, when they induced me to tell of Frodo's illness, so we can take him more quickly to Bree. We are to return him when we have no further need for him."
"That is well," Aragorn said musingly. "And well timed. I intended to make for Bree at daybreak."
"Frodo is worse?" Halbarad asked, concern evident in his voice as he tied the horse to the post beside the cabin.
"He is no better, and in much pain." Aragorn retrieved a bucket from beside the dwelling, filled it with water, and placed it in the horse's reach. "Maybe there he will be able to finally recover from all he has been through. I would not have him suffer so for any longer than I can help."
Halbarad murmured in agreement as he wiped the horse down. "Then let us leave as soon as we are able. Should Frodo ride the horse, then?"
Aragorn considered a moment. "No, I do not wish to risk tearing his stitches. One of us should ride and hold him -it should minimize the pain of being jostled and keep him warmer, as well."
"Even so, it will not be pleasant for him, if he is in such pain."
"I will see to it that he sleeps through much of it. But come, we must dress Frodo for the journey and finish the preparations."
Aragorn took the time to thoroughly examine and re-pad Frodo's stitches, then carefully began to dress him. He put Frodo's trousers on -they were not suitable for actual wear, but as a layer against the cold they would serve. The socks he'd used when first finding Frodo were pulled up as high as they would reach. On the hobbit's upper body, Aragorn layered Frodo's old nightshirt, then the red shirt he'd lent him over that, and Frodo's coat over all.
By this point Frodo was beginning to rouse, protesting confusedly at the imposition. Aragorn allowed him to wake completely before offering breakfast -which was flatly declined- and water -which was reluctantly accepted- and the use of the chamberpot -also reluctantly accepted.
He explained that they were going to leave, but that he had some medicine for Frodo that would keep him oblivious to most of what transpired. "Why didn't you give that to me earlier, when the tea didn't help?" was Frodo's only question, and Aragorn was forced to admit that what he would be giving him could be dangerous and was best used in very small doses. In fact, he would want to start with only a little bit and see what happened, then give a touch more if that wasn't enough. Frodo was amenable to the idea -not feeling anything would be a definite improvement- and took the tiny bit of liquid offered without complaint.
Aragorn left him be for a moment, to see to a few other things, and by the time he returned, Frodo was feeling decidedly fuzzy. But it never progressed past fuzzy, so he was given another sip. This time Aragorn stayed and watched him anxiously as he slid closer to oblivion. "I'm all right," he slurred before losing track of what was going on and losing the will to care. He closed his eyes.
Aragorn kept a careful eye on his breathing but it remained steady, as did his heart beats. Frodo merely appeared deeply asleep. Perfect. Aragorn picked up the loose-limbed hobbit, slipped his cloak around his shoulders, then shifted him atop the blanket and swaddled him in it. A second blanket was draped over his head, framing his face, then folded around the rest of his upper body. A third blanket was wrapped around his lower half, and the hobbit bundle was ready for traveling.
Halbarad had been loading some of their packs onto the horse while Aragorn prepared Frodo, so all Aragorn had to do was bring Frodo out and they'd be ready to set out. Aragorn hefted Frodo into his arms and strode outside.
~~~~
A few hours into the journey, Aragorn realized that holding Frodo high enough to eliminate all possible contact with the saddle was dreadfully tiring. So he adjusted, placing a folded blanket in front of him on the saddle, then setting Frodo atop that so he was sitting sideways in the saddle and leaning against Aragorn for support. This was a far easier position to maintain, so he passed along the advice when he and Halbarad switched places around midday.
With no longer having to concentrate on keeping Frodo on the horse, Aragorn found his mind wandering as he led the horse through the wood. It would likely take another two days to arrive in Bree, even if they traveled through the night, and especially if the storm he could smell coming hit while they were still in the wilds. Unconsciously Aragorn increased his pace, eyeing the overcast sky with suspicion.
The weather held for the time being -the clouds overhead thickened and promised something more to come, but so far held back their burden- and Aragorn was satisfied with their progress that afternoon. As the daylight waned, wisps of misty fog crept from the shadows and danced around them as they plodded along.
Aragorn and Halbarad again traded places at sunset, or close to it -it was difficult to pinpoint that time precisely thanks to the clouds. Aragorn noted that Frodo was beginning to react to being shifted or bumped, but was not yet to the point of waking; he would need to administer more of the medicine soon if he was to keep the hobbit from feeling the inevitable pain of the journey. But not just yet -timing was everything.
Halbarad led the horse steadily on and grew concerned as the fog thickened. It was not an issue at first, but gradually all he could see was the white mist shrouding the landscape, disguising and distorting the trees and bushes. More than once he nearly walked into a tree as it abruptly appeared in front of him. After nearly an hour of those conditions with no improvement in sight, he halted. "Aragorn? I cannot be certain we are going in the proper direction with this fog. We should stop before we lose ourselves."
"Agreed. I'm sure Frodo will appreciate being off the horse for a while."
Halbarad took Frodo while Aragorn dismounted, then they settled against the base of a large tree to wait out the fog. Aragorn held Frodo carefully as he began to wake and struggle against the arms that held him. Finally Frodo's eyes opened and he blurted, "What's going on? Why can't I see anything?"
Aragorn could feel Frodo's heart racing as he started to panic. "There is a thick fog, Frodo. We have stopped so we do not become lost in it."
Frodo relaxed in relief. "Oh, all right." He was quiet for a bit, then asked, "Where are we?"
"About eight hours' journey south and west from the cabin."
"How far to Bree?"
"Perhaps two days more, depending on the conditions. How are you feeling?"
Frodo yawned and shifted his weight on Aragorn's lap. "Tired, mostly. Some parts hurt."
"Are you warm enough?"
He shrugged. "I think so."
"Try to sleep. I will give you more of the medicine before we leave."
Frodo nodded, and tucked his head against Aragorn's chest. He was soon asleep, and Aragorn allowed himself to doze as well. It was so very quiet in their fog cocoon, and the recent weeks had been tiring. Halbarad stood watch, not that anyone was likely to be travelling in these parts. The night passed uneventfully, and the fog quietly thinned until it was again possible to pick out the faint paths trodden through the trees by wild rabbits and foxes and to determine which way their small party should head.
They set out again, Aragorn leading and Halbarad holding Frodo on the horse. The fog receded further, this time coalescing into fat drops of rain slowly descending, gradually wetting hair and soaking clothing. They travelled all day and through the night, hoping to regain some time lost to the fog, stopping only to switch riders or induce Frodo to take more medicine and some water.
The rain grew steadier, and began to freeze on tree branches and blades of grass as the temperature dropped in the night and failed to rise again in the day. The ground became muddy and slick and the going treacherous, so that it was not until well after dark that they arrived at the south gate to Bree. The gatekeeper eyed them suspiciously but let them in upon hearing there was an ailing child in their care.
The streets were nearly deserted, for which Aragorn was thankful. The fewer eyes saw them, the fewer questions there would be to answer later. It was further than he would have liked to the inn he'd chosen -the Horse and Wagon was small and off the main road, and thus ideal for evading notice by most of the Bree populace- especially with Frodo shivering as he was, but in light of all Frodo had endured thus far, the minutes it took to reach the inn were nothing at all.
Once at the Horse and Wagon, the innkeep bustled them into a room at the end of one hall -"to be more quiet-like for the poor lad"- and quickly had a bathtub and warm water brought to them. Halbarad built up the fire while Aragorn prepared the bath water, then carefully unwrapped the still-shivering Frodo. The shaking calmed as soon as he was in the warm water, and he groggily asked, "Are we there?"
"Yes, Frodo, we are in Bree, at the inn. Just rest and let us take care of you, and you'll be feeling better before you know it."
Frodo grunted and slipped back into sleep. Aragorn let him bask in the water for a little longer, then laid him on a blanket in front of the roaring fire for a brief assessment of the damage wrought by the journey. Overall, he was pleased by what he found. The stitches remained whole and in place, and the discharge had not changed for the worse, though it also had not improved, which was cause for concern. He would need to somehow obtain the necessary instruments for deeper perusal so the cause of the infection could be determined. Tomorrow. He must do that tomorrow.
Aragorn almost did not wish to put Frodo back into the same clothes as he'd been wearing all this time, but as Frodo had no others, he had no other choice. He would have to see about new clothes for the hobbit -he could do that while he was out tomorrow. Yes, that would do nicely.
Frodo was gently tucked into the large bed in the corner of the room to sleep the night -and the rest of the medicine- away.
~~~
Continued here.
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 they risk the trip to Bree to help Frodo recover.
Burden, 1/?
Burden, 2/?
Burden, 3/?
Burden, 4/?
Burden, 5/?
Burden, 6/?
Burden, 7/?
Burden, 8/?
Burden, 9/?
Burden, 10/?
Burden, 11/?
Burden, 12/?
Burden, 13/?
Aragorn was just about ready to rouse Frodo to be dressed for the outdoors when he became aware of hoofbeats approaching. He drew his sword and slipped outside, staying close to the walls of the cabin so the intruder could not discern him in the pre-dawn dimness. The horse slowed as it came into the clearing, and the rider dismounted. "Who goes there?" Aragorn demanded.
"It is Halbarad," came the amused response.
"I did not expect you to return so soon, or with the horse," Aragorn said, relaxing and emerging from the shadow of the building.
"Nor did I," Halbarad answered, patting the horse's flank. "But Mahlon insisted, when they induced me to tell of Frodo's illness, so we can take him more quickly to Bree. We are to return him when we have no further need for him."
"That is well," Aragorn said musingly. "And well timed. I intended to make for Bree at daybreak."
"Frodo is worse?" Halbarad asked, concern evident in his voice as he tied the horse to the post beside the cabin.
"He is no better, and in much pain." Aragorn retrieved a bucket from beside the dwelling, filled it with water, and placed it in the horse's reach. "Maybe there he will be able to finally recover from all he has been through. I would not have him suffer so for any longer than I can help."
Halbarad murmured in agreement as he wiped the horse down. "Then let us leave as soon as we are able. Should Frodo ride the horse, then?"
Aragorn considered a moment. "No, I do not wish to risk tearing his stitches. One of us should ride and hold him -it should minimize the pain of being jostled and keep him warmer, as well."
"Even so, it will not be pleasant for him, if he is in such pain."
"I will see to it that he sleeps through much of it. But come, we must dress Frodo for the journey and finish the preparations."
Aragorn took the time to thoroughly examine and re-pad Frodo's stitches, then carefully began to dress him. He put Frodo's trousers on -they were not suitable for actual wear, but as a layer against the cold they would serve. The socks he'd used when first finding Frodo were pulled up as high as they would reach. On the hobbit's upper body, Aragorn layered Frodo's old nightshirt, then the red shirt he'd lent him over that, and Frodo's coat over all.
By this point Frodo was beginning to rouse, protesting confusedly at the imposition. Aragorn allowed him to wake completely before offering breakfast -which was flatly declined- and water -which was reluctantly accepted- and the use of the chamberpot -also reluctantly accepted.
He explained that they were going to leave, but that he had some medicine for Frodo that would keep him oblivious to most of what transpired. "Why didn't you give that to me earlier, when the tea didn't help?" was Frodo's only question, and Aragorn was forced to admit that what he would be giving him could be dangerous and was best used in very small doses. In fact, he would want to start with only a little bit and see what happened, then give a touch more if that wasn't enough. Frodo was amenable to the idea -not feeling anything would be a definite improvement- and took the tiny bit of liquid offered without complaint.
Aragorn left him be for a moment, to see to a few other things, and by the time he returned, Frodo was feeling decidedly fuzzy. But it never progressed past fuzzy, so he was given another sip. This time Aragorn stayed and watched him anxiously as he slid closer to oblivion. "I'm all right," he slurred before losing track of what was going on and losing the will to care. He closed his eyes.
Aragorn kept a careful eye on his breathing but it remained steady, as did his heart beats. Frodo merely appeared deeply asleep. Perfect. Aragorn picked up the loose-limbed hobbit, slipped his cloak around his shoulders, then shifted him atop the blanket and swaddled him in it. A second blanket was draped over his head, framing his face, then folded around the rest of his upper body. A third blanket was wrapped around his lower half, and the hobbit bundle was ready for traveling.
Halbarad had been loading some of their packs onto the horse while Aragorn prepared Frodo, so all Aragorn had to do was bring Frodo out and they'd be ready to set out. Aragorn hefted Frodo into his arms and strode outside.
~~~~
A few hours into the journey, Aragorn realized that holding Frodo high enough to eliminate all possible contact with the saddle was dreadfully tiring. So he adjusted, placing a folded blanket in front of him on the saddle, then setting Frodo atop that so he was sitting sideways in the saddle and leaning against Aragorn for support. This was a far easier position to maintain, so he passed along the advice when he and Halbarad switched places around midday.
With no longer having to concentrate on keeping Frodo on the horse, Aragorn found his mind wandering as he led the horse through the wood. It would likely take another two days to arrive in Bree, even if they traveled through the night, and especially if the storm he could smell coming hit while they were still in the wilds. Unconsciously Aragorn increased his pace, eyeing the overcast sky with suspicion.
The weather held for the time being -the clouds overhead thickened and promised something more to come, but so far held back their burden- and Aragorn was satisfied with their progress that afternoon. As the daylight waned, wisps of misty fog crept from the shadows and danced around them as they plodded along.
Aragorn and Halbarad again traded places at sunset, or close to it -it was difficult to pinpoint that time precisely thanks to the clouds. Aragorn noted that Frodo was beginning to react to being shifted or bumped, but was not yet to the point of waking; he would need to administer more of the medicine soon if he was to keep the hobbit from feeling the inevitable pain of the journey. But not just yet -timing was everything.
Halbarad led the horse steadily on and grew concerned as the fog thickened. It was not an issue at first, but gradually all he could see was the white mist shrouding the landscape, disguising and distorting the trees and bushes. More than once he nearly walked into a tree as it abruptly appeared in front of him. After nearly an hour of those conditions with no improvement in sight, he halted. "Aragorn? I cannot be certain we are going in the proper direction with this fog. We should stop before we lose ourselves."
"Agreed. I'm sure Frodo will appreciate being off the horse for a while."
Halbarad took Frodo while Aragorn dismounted, then they settled against the base of a large tree to wait out the fog. Aragorn held Frodo carefully as he began to wake and struggle against the arms that held him. Finally Frodo's eyes opened and he blurted, "What's going on? Why can't I see anything?"
Aragorn could feel Frodo's heart racing as he started to panic. "There is a thick fog, Frodo. We have stopped so we do not become lost in it."
Frodo relaxed in relief. "Oh, all right." He was quiet for a bit, then asked, "Where are we?"
"About eight hours' journey south and west from the cabin."
"How far to Bree?"
"Perhaps two days more, depending on the conditions. How are you feeling?"
Frodo yawned and shifted his weight on Aragorn's lap. "Tired, mostly. Some parts hurt."
"Are you warm enough?"
He shrugged. "I think so."
"Try to sleep. I will give you more of the medicine before we leave."
Frodo nodded, and tucked his head against Aragorn's chest. He was soon asleep, and Aragorn allowed himself to doze as well. It was so very quiet in their fog cocoon, and the recent weeks had been tiring. Halbarad stood watch, not that anyone was likely to be travelling in these parts. The night passed uneventfully, and the fog quietly thinned until it was again possible to pick out the faint paths trodden through the trees by wild rabbits and foxes and to determine which way their small party should head.
They set out again, Aragorn leading and Halbarad holding Frodo on the horse. The fog receded further, this time coalescing into fat drops of rain slowly descending, gradually wetting hair and soaking clothing. They travelled all day and through the night, hoping to regain some time lost to the fog, stopping only to switch riders or induce Frodo to take more medicine and some water.
The rain grew steadier, and began to freeze on tree branches and blades of grass as the temperature dropped in the night and failed to rise again in the day. The ground became muddy and slick and the going treacherous, so that it was not until well after dark that they arrived at the south gate to Bree. The gatekeeper eyed them suspiciously but let them in upon hearing there was an ailing child in their care.
The streets were nearly deserted, for which Aragorn was thankful. The fewer eyes saw them, the fewer questions there would be to answer later. It was further than he would have liked to the inn he'd chosen -the Horse and Wagon was small and off the main road, and thus ideal for evading notice by most of the Bree populace- especially with Frodo shivering as he was, but in light of all Frodo had endured thus far, the minutes it took to reach the inn were nothing at all.
Once at the Horse and Wagon, the innkeep bustled them into a room at the end of one hall -"to be more quiet-like for the poor lad"- and quickly had a bathtub and warm water brought to them. Halbarad built up the fire while Aragorn prepared the bath water, then carefully unwrapped the still-shivering Frodo. The shaking calmed as soon as he was in the warm water, and he groggily asked, "Are we there?"
"Yes, Frodo, we are in Bree, at the inn. Just rest and let us take care of you, and you'll be feeling better before you know it."
Frodo grunted and slipped back into sleep. Aragorn let him bask in the water for a little longer, then laid him on a blanket in front of the roaring fire for a brief assessment of the damage wrought by the journey. Overall, he was pleased by what he found. The stitches remained whole and in place, and the discharge had not changed for the worse, though it also had not improved, which was cause for concern. He would need to somehow obtain the necessary instruments for deeper perusal so the cause of the infection could be determined. Tomorrow. He must do that tomorrow.
Aragorn almost did not wish to put Frodo back into the same clothes as he'd been wearing all this time, but as Frodo had no others, he had no other choice. He would have to see about new clothes for the hobbit -he could do that while he was out tomorrow. Yes, that would do nicely.
Frodo was gently tucked into the large bed in the corner of the room to sleep the night -and the rest of the medicine- away.
~~~
Continued here.