here...
Okay, apparently I want to prove myself a liar. I said I was going to break my streak of an mpreg a day, but here's today's anyway. This is the very next bit. I was trying very hard not to fall asleep at the comp by the end, so I make no claims about how good/interesting/whatever this will be. I did spell-check it, so at least I have that in my favor. ;) Um, I think that's all... good night. :)
_Confused_
The next couple of days were a blur to Frodo. The voyage to Helm's Deep continued, two more hot days of riding and cold nights of sleeping on the ground. But he hardly noticed. When awake, he barely took notice of their surroundings, focused instead on the thoughts and feelings, fears and worries, spinning dizzily in his head. And more often than he cared to admit he found himself jerking out of an unintentional nap, shaking his head woozily. At those times he would often open his eyes to find Sam next to him, keeping a hold on the reins he'd dropped, and he was thankful that the trail was wider here so Sam could be nearby.
He'd finally mustered the courage to tell Merry and Pippin about his 'ailment' the night before the company reached Helm's Deep. The two had sat stunned, both speechless for the first time in a long time, and after a moment congratulated him heartily. And if Frodo had hoped revealing the news would put an end to their pranks, he was wrong. The mischievous pair made their cousin the butt of several pranks, though the ever-observant Sam put an end to more that Frodo never found out about.
Sam was usually able to predict Frodo's moods with a fair amount of accuracy, though several times he was taken by surprise by the rapidity with which those moods could change. When Frodo was in a good mood, he usually allowed the younger cousins to play their harmless jokes on Frodo, for they did no harm and made his master laugh besides. But there were a few instances where the pranks misfired and caused the elder cousin to burst into tears. In those cases, Sam left Merry to do the necessary comforting afterwards, for though Pippin often came up with the idea, Merry was usually in charge of the execution.
Even so, Frodo was relieved when they rode up to Helm's Deep in the premature dusk of the mountains. Though he would still be sleeping upon the ground, there was something about the knowledge that they would not be mounting up in the morning that put him in a good mood.
That is, until Elrond approached as camp was being set up to inform him the detailed examination would take place on the morrow. As the Elven Lord strode away, Frodo flushed in embarrassment as he thought about what would likely happen -and what would likely be examined!- when he was forced to submit to the poking and prodding. He buried his face in his knees to hide his scarlet face.
"What's the matter, Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice drifted from somewhere behind him.
He raised his head as Sam plopped next to him. "Oh, it's nothing, really. Lord Elrond wants to examine me tomorrow."
"Aye, thought he might, seeing as we aren't going anywhere tomorrow." He saw Frodo's embarrassment and added, "What're you being shy for? It's nothing 'e hasn't seen before."
"Sam!" gasped Frodo, thoroughly scandalized.
"Well, it's true," Sam proclaimed staunchly. "Those days before you woke in Rivendell. He's probably seen every inch of you at one time or another."
"Sam..." Frodo groaned, flushing a deeper shade of red and hiding his face in his knees again.
"What, you 'shamed of that little bit o' hobbit fat you got back?" Sam asked teasingly, poking Frodo in the ribs.
Frodo tensed in surprise and tried to escape Sam's tickling fingers. "Sam!" he cried, trying not to laugh. "Stop tickling me!"
Merry and Pippin heard his cry, and rather than come to his aid, they came to join the fun. The laughing hobbits were soon in a tangle, each giving and receiving the 'torment.' When they finally tired of the game, they lay where they ended up, arms and legs jutting out of the heap at odd angles.
"Mm... you're a good pillow, cousin," Frodo complimented Merry as he shifted his head on Merry's midsection. "And whose leg is this?" he asked, patting the limb that had appeared next to his head.
"Mine," came Sam's voice from somewhere around Frodo's feet. "And Mr. Pippin is nigh on squashing me."
"Frodo is laying on *me*!" Pippin protested.
"One leg hardly qualifies as laying on you. Besides, you're laying on my other leg, and I daresay you're heavier than me," countered Frodo.
"So this is *your* foot, then," Sam remarked, tickling it and making Frodo kick in reaction, eliciting a noisy complaint from Pippin.
Aragorn watched, amused, from a short distance away. "I guess that means you're too tangled to eat, then," he called.
The mention of eating set the hobbitpile in motion, and soon it resolved itself into four separate hobbits who proceeded in a semi-orderly fashion to get their dinners.
The next day dawned clear and bright, though none of the hobbits were awake to see it. Hunger predictably drove Merry and Pippin from their beds just in time for breakfast, Sam rose not too long after, and Frodo... well, Frodo had to be rolled out of bed and convinced he wanted to eat second breakfast. Frodo resisted, but Sam's glare, combined with the proximity of both Aragorn and Lord Elrond, persuaded him to meekly eat a bit for fear of Sam bringing one of the Big Folk into it, in which case he would lose hands down anyway.
It wasn't long after Frodo finished eating that Elrond headed his way. "Oh, no..." Frodo groaned. "Sam, hide me, quick!"
But Sam didn't move, and Elrond addressed Frodo, "Come with me, please."
Frodo sighed deeply, but stood. "Sooner I go, the sooner it's over with," he reminded himself under his breath.
Elrond heard his comment, but did not reply. Sam followed, unnoticed as usual, as the Elven Lord and healer led Frodo to a recently erected tent. They went inside, and Sam waited by the tent flap, listening curiously.
Elrond motioned the hobbit towards one of two cots in the tent, and Frodo sat obediently. "Take off your shirt and lie back, if you would." Frodo obeyed without comment, lying down to stare at the canvas ceiling, the sunlight making it glow brightly.
As Elrond commenced his poking and prodding, Frodo remained silent unless asked a direct question. "Are you sore here?" Elrond inquired, pushing down slightly on the hobbit's upper chest.
"Yes..." Frodo admitted.
The elf continued moving down his torso silently, gently massaging and prodding until he reached Frodo's abdomen. There he slowed, just holding his hands still upon the skin, eyes closed in thought. Then he resumed his massaging touch, gradually increasing the pressure as he moved his hands carefully.
The motion felt very soothing and Frodo closed his eyes to enjoy it, even when the elf unbuttoned his breeches to access his lower torso. When it stopped, he made a small noise of complaint. "Roll over, please," Elrond requested, a hint of humour in his voice. Frodo obeyed and Elrond began massaging again, working through the tight muscles at the small of his back. Frodo couldn't help sighing in enjoyment, and Elrond chuckled. "I do not need to ask if you are sore here."
He could have gone to sleep with treatment like that, but Elrond stopped long before he was ready for him to. "Time to sit up." Frodo complied with a groan.
"You may put your shirt back on. That is all the examination I require for now." As Frodo began buttoning his shirt, Elrond continued, "Aragorn informed me of your initial reaction to the news, and he is concerned that you do not see it in the spirit it was given." He sank down, kneeling to look Frodo straight in the eye. "Are you still of the same opinion?"
Frodo nodded hesitantly, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap, hesitant to meet Elrond's eyes. "This is another burden I was given to bear, and I will do it, for I must," he whispered.
Elrond looked troubled. "I do not ask that you see this as a wonderful thing immediately. Even females must adjust to the idea of bearing and birthing a child, and that adjustment is not an easy one. But do remember that this is another living being, Frodo. You carry a life within you, one that did not ask to be given life, but is alive just the same. It is a part of you now, and you must accept that."
He sighed as Frodo still refused to meet his gaze. "You have some time yet before your condition becomes obvious, though your spare frame may show it sooner than is usual. You must ensure you eat and drink plenty, as you now support a growing child in addition to yourself. The nausea could continue for several weeks at least, though it is aided by eating small amounts throughout the day. Which should not be a problem for a hobbit," he allowed some humour to creep into his voice.
Elrond sobered again when there was no reaction from the hobbit. "Frodo, do not worry. The babe is healthy so far and you are doing well. We are all happy for you and wish you would be happy in this joyful time."
Frodo fidgeted restlessly but did not respond. "You may go," Elrond finally said, rising from the ground. Frodo left without a word, still staring at the ground as he tried to digest what Elrond had said. He doubted he was equal to this task thrust upon him, and wished someone else would see it too.
~~~~
_Confused_
The next couple of days were a blur to Frodo. The voyage to Helm's Deep continued, two more hot days of riding and cold nights of sleeping on the ground. But he hardly noticed. When awake, he barely took notice of their surroundings, focused instead on the thoughts and feelings, fears and worries, spinning dizzily in his head. And more often than he cared to admit he found himself jerking out of an unintentional nap, shaking his head woozily. At those times he would often open his eyes to find Sam next to him, keeping a hold on the reins he'd dropped, and he was thankful that the trail was wider here so Sam could be nearby.
He'd finally mustered the courage to tell Merry and Pippin about his 'ailment' the night before the company reached Helm's Deep. The two had sat stunned, both speechless for the first time in a long time, and after a moment congratulated him heartily. And if Frodo had hoped revealing the news would put an end to their pranks, he was wrong. The mischievous pair made their cousin the butt of several pranks, though the ever-observant Sam put an end to more that Frodo never found out about.
Sam was usually able to predict Frodo's moods with a fair amount of accuracy, though several times he was taken by surprise by the rapidity with which those moods could change. When Frodo was in a good mood, he usually allowed the younger cousins to play their harmless jokes on Frodo, for they did no harm and made his master laugh besides. But there were a few instances where the pranks misfired and caused the elder cousin to burst into tears. In those cases, Sam left Merry to do the necessary comforting afterwards, for though Pippin often came up with the idea, Merry was usually in charge of the execution.
Even so, Frodo was relieved when they rode up to Helm's Deep in the premature dusk of the mountains. Though he would still be sleeping upon the ground, there was something about the knowledge that they would not be mounting up in the morning that put him in a good mood.
That is, until Elrond approached as camp was being set up to inform him the detailed examination would take place on the morrow. As the Elven Lord strode away, Frodo flushed in embarrassment as he thought about what would likely happen -and what would likely be examined!- when he was forced to submit to the poking and prodding. He buried his face in his knees to hide his scarlet face.
"What's the matter, Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice drifted from somewhere behind him.
He raised his head as Sam plopped next to him. "Oh, it's nothing, really. Lord Elrond wants to examine me tomorrow."
"Aye, thought he might, seeing as we aren't going anywhere tomorrow." He saw Frodo's embarrassment and added, "What're you being shy for? It's nothing 'e hasn't seen before."
"Sam!" gasped Frodo, thoroughly scandalized.
"Well, it's true," Sam proclaimed staunchly. "Those days before you woke in Rivendell. He's probably seen every inch of you at one time or another."
"Sam..." Frodo groaned, flushing a deeper shade of red and hiding his face in his knees again.
"What, you 'shamed of that little bit o' hobbit fat you got back?" Sam asked teasingly, poking Frodo in the ribs.
Frodo tensed in surprise and tried to escape Sam's tickling fingers. "Sam!" he cried, trying not to laugh. "Stop tickling me!"
Merry and Pippin heard his cry, and rather than come to his aid, they came to join the fun. The laughing hobbits were soon in a tangle, each giving and receiving the 'torment.' When they finally tired of the game, they lay where they ended up, arms and legs jutting out of the heap at odd angles.
"Mm... you're a good pillow, cousin," Frodo complimented Merry as he shifted his head on Merry's midsection. "And whose leg is this?" he asked, patting the limb that had appeared next to his head.
"Mine," came Sam's voice from somewhere around Frodo's feet. "And Mr. Pippin is nigh on squashing me."
"Frodo is laying on *me*!" Pippin protested.
"One leg hardly qualifies as laying on you. Besides, you're laying on my other leg, and I daresay you're heavier than me," countered Frodo.
"So this is *your* foot, then," Sam remarked, tickling it and making Frodo kick in reaction, eliciting a noisy complaint from Pippin.
Aragorn watched, amused, from a short distance away. "I guess that means you're too tangled to eat, then," he called.
The mention of eating set the hobbitpile in motion, and soon it resolved itself into four separate hobbits who proceeded in a semi-orderly fashion to get their dinners.
The next day dawned clear and bright, though none of the hobbits were awake to see it. Hunger predictably drove Merry and Pippin from their beds just in time for breakfast, Sam rose not too long after, and Frodo... well, Frodo had to be rolled out of bed and convinced he wanted to eat second breakfast. Frodo resisted, but Sam's glare, combined with the proximity of both Aragorn and Lord Elrond, persuaded him to meekly eat a bit for fear of Sam bringing one of the Big Folk into it, in which case he would lose hands down anyway.
It wasn't long after Frodo finished eating that Elrond headed his way. "Oh, no..." Frodo groaned. "Sam, hide me, quick!"
But Sam didn't move, and Elrond addressed Frodo, "Come with me, please."
Frodo sighed deeply, but stood. "Sooner I go, the sooner it's over with," he reminded himself under his breath.
Elrond heard his comment, but did not reply. Sam followed, unnoticed as usual, as the Elven Lord and healer led Frodo to a recently erected tent. They went inside, and Sam waited by the tent flap, listening curiously.
Elrond motioned the hobbit towards one of two cots in the tent, and Frodo sat obediently. "Take off your shirt and lie back, if you would." Frodo obeyed without comment, lying down to stare at the canvas ceiling, the sunlight making it glow brightly.
As Elrond commenced his poking and prodding, Frodo remained silent unless asked a direct question. "Are you sore here?" Elrond inquired, pushing down slightly on the hobbit's upper chest.
"Yes..." Frodo admitted.
The elf continued moving down his torso silently, gently massaging and prodding until he reached Frodo's abdomen. There he slowed, just holding his hands still upon the skin, eyes closed in thought. Then he resumed his massaging touch, gradually increasing the pressure as he moved his hands carefully.
The motion felt very soothing and Frodo closed his eyes to enjoy it, even when the elf unbuttoned his breeches to access his lower torso. When it stopped, he made a small noise of complaint. "Roll over, please," Elrond requested, a hint of humour in his voice. Frodo obeyed and Elrond began massaging again, working through the tight muscles at the small of his back. Frodo couldn't help sighing in enjoyment, and Elrond chuckled. "I do not need to ask if you are sore here."
He could have gone to sleep with treatment like that, but Elrond stopped long before he was ready for him to. "Time to sit up." Frodo complied with a groan.
"You may put your shirt back on. That is all the examination I require for now." As Frodo began buttoning his shirt, Elrond continued, "Aragorn informed me of your initial reaction to the news, and he is concerned that you do not see it in the spirit it was given." He sank down, kneeling to look Frodo straight in the eye. "Are you still of the same opinion?"
Frodo nodded hesitantly, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap, hesitant to meet Elrond's eyes. "This is another burden I was given to bear, and I will do it, for I must," he whispered.
Elrond looked troubled. "I do not ask that you see this as a wonderful thing immediately. Even females must adjust to the idea of bearing and birthing a child, and that adjustment is not an easy one. But do remember that this is another living being, Frodo. You carry a life within you, one that did not ask to be given life, but is alive just the same. It is a part of you now, and you must accept that."
He sighed as Frodo still refused to meet his gaze. "You have some time yet before your condition becomes obvious, though your spare frame may show it sooner than is usual. You must ensure you eat and drink plenty, as you now support a growing child in addition to yourself. The nausea could continue for several weeks at least, though it is aided by eating small amounts throughout the day. Which should not be a problem for a hobbit," he allowed some humour to creep into his voice.
Elrond sobered again when there was no reaction from the hobbit. "Frodo, do not worry. The babe is healthy so far and you are doing well. We are all happy for you and wish you would be happy in this joyful time."
Frodo fidgeted restlessly but did not respond. "You may go," Elrond finally said, rising from the ground. Frodo left without a word, still staring at the ground as he tried to digest what Elrond had said. He doubted he was equal to this task thrust upon him, and wished someone else would see it too.
~~~~