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lilybaggins said she now that she had internet access, she had the capability to read Frodo pregnant on Caradhras stories...that comment was just too tempting...Well, I didn't fully finish it, but here's what I have...
Title: Harsh
Author: Claudia
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Frodo/Halbarad, Frodo/Strider (implied)
Summary: Frodo can’t bear it alone on Caradhras...
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story notes: Lily didn’t know I was psychic. WARNING: mpreg
Harsh
When Frodo slipped and fell on an icy boulder that jutted out of the glistening snow, he had the sickening knowledge that he would lose the baby. He had striven so hard to hide his swollen belly from the company, and since leaving Rivendell, it had been surprisingly easy. Given the blustery wind that kept a constant bite to the air, it had been easy to wear so many layers that his middle was left completely concealed.
The small of his back hit another rock and he slid backwards through the ice, letting out a cry of frustration.
“Frodo!” Aragorn ran to him, his face pale with concern. He reached the prone hobbit and held his shoulders down. “Stay still. Don’t try to move.” The rest of the company watched in frozen concern. Sam threw Bill’s reins to Pippin to hold and ran back down to Frodo, huffing and puffing. “Mr. Frodo! Are you all right, sir?”
“I think,” Frodo said, starting to sit up. “I am all right. Do not worry about me.” He was dizzy and shaken from the fall, but so far, he felt no pain. His cloak slid from his belly, and Aragorn gasped as he looked upon it.
Frodo met Aragorn’s gaze, cheeks burning.
“You…” Aragorn said in a distressed tone. “How did Elrond not -“
“Elrond saved it. My wound at Weathertop nearly caused me to lose it..." Frodo broke off, biting his lip against a wicked cramp that gripped his middle. “I begged him not to reveal it.”
“It is folly that he allowed you on this quest…” He kept his voice low, and nobody but Sam heard a word of it. “He should know better.”
Frodo had barely been showing when he had awakened in Rivendell. Yes, at that time, only four months had passed since he had slipped away from Hobbiton and into the woods at the border of the Shire and met the Ranger Halbarad. Halbarad was lonely, Frodo was restless and curious, and one thing had led to another. By his birthday, the day Frodo had fled Hobbiton, Frodo had known that something very unnatural had happened during the zesty summer nights he had spent under the stars, wrapped in a bristly blanket that smelled of deer blood, thick muscled arms wrapped tightly around his midsection.
“He should never have allowed you on this quest.”
“What ails Frodo?” Gandalf had joined Sam and Aragorn.
Aragorn met Gandalf’s eyes before glancing deliberately at Frodo’s belly. Gandalf’s eyes widened. “Oh. So it is.” He chuckled suddenly, and Frodo was suddenly annoyed. His clothes were soaked through from lying in a nest of snow, he was cramping in an alarming manner, and Aragorn - dear Aragorn - was no doubt utterly repulsed by his condition.
“I had thought I sensed a tenth song, weak and growing. So it is!”
“How can this be?” Aragorn asked, gesturing toward Frodo’s belly. “I had heard of such things among the elves-“
Gandalf became serious. “Remember what he bears,” he said nearly inaudibly.
A more insistent cramp took his midsection, squeezing with much more vigor. Snowflakes had begun to fall like white spitting embers, stinging Frodo’s face.
“We must get him somewhere safe,” Aragorn said. He absent-mindedly rubbed Frodo’s belly as he looked up the snow-blurred craggy path ahead.
“Curse this mountain,” Gandalf said.
“Is the Halfling injured?” Boromir’s voice was pleasant, but Frodo did not wish him to know what was going on. He already thought it was ridiculous that a soft hobbit from the Shire with no weapon training was taking the Ring into Mordor.
Frodo groaned as another pain took him.
“Yes,” Aragorn said, gathering Frodo suddenly in his arms and lifting him. He wrapped his own cloak around him, and as Frodo took in the scent of the Ranger’s cloak, with a pang, he remembered his last evening with Halbarad.
“This must end tonight,” Halbarad had said, gripping Frodo’s shoulders. “I cannot stand to hurt you.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?” Frodo had answered. “There is no reason we cannot continue. This does not hurt me.”
“I cannot give you want you need, dearest.” He had squeezed Frodo’s shoulders, his eyes faraway.
“I need very little,” Frodo had answered, his chin stiff with pride.
“I know,” Halbarad’s smile became sad, and he had looked down. “But I could not give you even that. I am a Ranger of the wild, duty bound to wander the wild alone. I cannot stay here, dear Frodo, and forfeit duty because you warm my bed.”
Frodo had said no more. He had simply climbed to his feet and walked away.
“Frodo…” Halbarad had called weakly, but there had been no conviction in his voice and Frodo had not looked back.
Now as he smelled Aragorn’s cloak, he wanted to weep.
“We must find shelter at any rate from this storm,” Aragorn said.
“Up the path farther,” Boromir said. “It appears there is a sheer wall that might block the wind.”
Pippin and Merry shivered miserably, still holding Bill’s reigns.
“Is he all right?” Pippin asked as Aragorn approached, holding Frodo.
“He is all right for now,” Aragorn said. When he saw the fear in the younger hobbits’ eyes, he managed a soft smile. “How well do you know your cousin?”
Pippin raised his eyebrows. “Better than anyone, right, Merry?”
“As well as anyone could know him,” Merry said. “He’s very close, cousin Frodo is.”
“Better that I not say anything yet.”
Merry and Pippin looked at each other. Frodo managed a muffled laugh, as he was certain Aragorn did not quite understand his danger. There was no way his cousins would allow such a puzzling hint to go without explanations. Merry and Pippin would relentlessly torture the unfortunate Ranger until they got to the bottom of it.
Once at the shelter, Aragorn took off his cloak with one free hand, still holding Frodo with the other arm. He set the cloak over the cold snowy ground and then gently placed Frodo on the cloak.
I'll try to finish this tomorrow, folks. My fingers are tired and I have to go to bed…we’ll see if I can finish it tomorrow… :-D
Title: Harsh
Author: Claudia
Rating: PG13
Pairings: Frodo/Halbarad, Frodo/Strider (implied)
Summary: Frodo can’t bear it alone on Caradhras...
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story notes: Lily didn’t know I was psychic. WARNING: mpreg
Harsh
When Frodo slipped and fell on an icy boulder that jutted out of the glistening snow, he had the sickening knowledge that he would lose the baby. He had striven so hard to hide his swollen belly from the company, and since leaving Rivendell, it had been surprisingly easy. Given the blustery wind that kept a constant bite to the air, it had been easy to wear so many layers that his middle was left completely concealed.
The small of his back hit another rock and he slid backwards through the ice, letting out a cry of frustration.
“Frodo!” Aragorn ran to him, his face pale with concern. He reached the prone hobbit and held his shoulders down. “Stay still. Don’t try to move.” The rest of the company watched in frozen concern. Sam threw Bill’s reins to Pippin to hold and ran back down to Frodo, huffing and puffing. “Mr. Frodo! Are you all right, sir?”
“I think,” Frodo said, starting to sit up. “I am all right. Do not worry about me.” He was dizzy and shaken from the fall, but so far, he felt no pain. His cloak slid from his belly, and Aragorn gasped as he looked upon it.
Frodo met Aragorn’s gaze, cheeks burning.
“You…” Aragorn said in a distressed tone. “How did Elrond not -“
“Elrond saved it. My wound at Weathertop nearly caused me to lose it..." Frodo broke off, biting his lip against a wicked cramp that gripped his middle. “I begged him not to reveal it.”
“It is folly that he allowed you on this quest…” He kept his voice low, and nobody but Sam heard a word of it. “He should know better.”
Frodo had barely been showing when he had awakened in Rivendell. Yes, at that time, only four months had passed since he had slipped away from Hobbiton and into the woods at the border of the Shire and met the Ranger Halbarad. Halbarad was lonely, Frodo was restless and curious, and one thing had led to another. By his birthday, the day Frodo had fled Hobbiton, Frodo had known that something very unnatural had happened during the zesty summer nights he had spent under the stars, wrapped in a bristly blanket that smelled of deer blood, thick muscled arms wrapped tightly around his midsection.
“He should never have allowed you on this quest.”
“What ails Frodo?” Gandalf had joined Sam and Aragorn.
Aragorn met Gandalf’s eyes before glancing deliberately at Frodo’s belly. Gandalf’s eyes widened. “Oh. So it is.” He chuckled suddenly, and Frodo was suddenly annoyed. His clothes were soaked through from lying in a nest of snow, he was cramping in an alarming manner, and Aragorn - dear Aragorn - was no doubt utterly repulsed by his condition.
“I had thought I sensed a tenth song, weak and growing. So it is!”
“How can this be?” Aragorn asked, gesturing toward Frodo’s belly. “I had heard of such things among the elves-“
Gandalf became serious. “Remember what he bears,” he said nearly inaudibly.
A more insistent cramp took his midsection, squeezing with much more vigor. Snowflakes had begun to fall like white spitting embers, stinging Frodo’s face.
“We must get him somewhere safe,” Aragorn said. He absent-mindedly rubbed Frodo’s belly as he looked up the snow-blurred craggy path ahead.
“Curse this mountain,” Gandalf said.
“Is the Halfling injured?” Boromir’s voice was pleasant, but Frodo did not wish him to know what was going on. He already thought it was ridiculous that a soft hobbit from the Shire with no weapon training was taking the Ring into Mordor.
Frodo groaned as another pain took him.
“Yes,” Aragorn said, gathering Frodo suddenly in his arms and lifting him. He wrapped his own cloak around him, and as Frodo took in the scent of the Ranger’s cloak, with a pang, he remembered his last evening with Halbarad.
“This must end tonight,” Halbarad had said, gripping Frodo’s shoulders. “I cannot stand to hurt you.”
“Then why are you pushing me away?” Frodo had answered. “There is no reason we cannot continue. This does not hurt me.”
“I cannot give you want you need, dearest.” He had squeezed Frodo’s shoulders, his eyes faraway.
“I need very little,” Frodo had answered, his chin stiff with pride.
“I know,” Halbarad’s smile became sad, and he had looked down. “But I could not give you even that. I am a Ranger of the wild, duty bound to wander the wild alone. I cannot stay here, dear Frodo, and forfeit duty because you warm my bed.”
Frodo had said no more. He had simply climbed to his feet and walked away.
“Frodo…” Halbarad had called weakly, but there had been no conviction in his voice and Frodo had not looked back.
Now as he smelled Aragorn’s cloak, he wanted to weep.
“We must find shelter at any rate from this storm,” Aragorn said.
“Up the path farther,” Boromir said. “It appears there is a sheer wall that might block the wind.”
Pippin and Merry shivered miserably, still holding Bill’s reigns.
“Is he all right?” Pippin asked as Aragorn approached, holding Frodo.
“He is all right for now,” Aragorn said. When he saw the fear in the younger hobbits’ eyes, he managed a soft smile. “How well do you know your cousin?”
Pippin raised his eyebrows. “Better than anyone, right, Merry?”
“As well as anyone could know him,” Merry said. “He’s very close, cousin Frodo is.”
“Better that I not say anything yet.”
Merry and Pippin looked at each other. Frodo managed a muffled laugh, as he was certain Aragorn did not quite understand his danger. There was no way his cousins would allow such a puzzling hint to go without explanations. Merry and Pippin would relentlessly torture the unfortunate Ranger until they got to the bottom of it.
Once at the shelter, Aragorn took off his cloak with one free hand, still holding Frodo with the other arm. He set the cloak over the cold snowy ground and then gently placed Frodo on the cloak.
I'll try to finish this tomorrow, folks. My fingers are tired and I have to go to bed…we’ll see if I can finish it tomorrow… :-D