(no subject)
Um, hi. It is early. The clock says it's 6:20 now but everyone knows it's REALLY 5:20. Gosh, I do so hate the first Monday after Daylight Savings Time. Oh, I hate it with a blind passion.
The pains rolled in, one after another. Strider, sometimes being forced at a safe distance from Frodo’s furious hands, continued to breathe with him, but Frodo had long abandoned the special breathing. Nothing mattered but making the pain go away.
“How long must this last?” Frodo finally cried out. Gray light filtered in the tiny window. He had no idea how much time had passed since his pains had begun.
“Truthfully, I do not know,” Strider said. “Some babies come very soon, but others…I do not know how it is among your kind.”
“I fear it will never end,” Frodo said, and he weakly clutched at the towel that was shoved beneath his bottom.
“Frodo, if you promise not to kick me, will you allow me to look inside and see if the babe has made progress?”
Frodo sighed. Another pain was building and he had not the will to control his limbs, but he would try. “I shall try,” he said, and he whimpered slightly as the next pain rolled in like a furious ocean wave. Strider knelt at the foot of the bed. He slid his fingers inside Frodo, causing the hobbit to writhe uncomfortably. Strider’s face looked concerned.
“What is it?” Frodo asked, breathing quickly. The last pain had been rough, but it had passed. “What is wrong?”
“I do not see that the babe is moving.”
Frodo bit his sleeve in frustration as yet another pain built up. All this pain had been for nothing? He could not imagine that nothing could be happening. His body was putting forth everything to eject the babe, and if nothing was happening, then perhaps the guards had been right - even with Strider, both he and the babe would likely die.
“But there is something I can do to help. This works with women of my kind, and we shall see if it works with you, my dear hobbit.”
Frodo nodded, tears of fatigue filling his eyes. “All right.”
Aragorn stood over him and placed his hands over Frodo’s huge belly. His hands were strong and purposeful as he massaged, first rubbing in small circles, and then pushing downward. Frodo felt the pain ease somewhat and he nearly fell into a satisfied drowse.
“What are you doing?” Frodo asked weakly.
“I am hoping to encourage the little one to come on out now.”
“Does this really work?”
“We shall see. Now, the next pain that comes, Frodo, you need to work, too. You need to go back to your breathing and you need to imagine with all your heart that this babe is coming out.”
The pains rolled in, one after another. Strider, sometimes being forced at a safe distance from Frodo’s furious hands, continued to breathe with him, but Frodo had long abandoned the special breathing. Nothing mattered but making the pain go away.
“How long must this last?” Frodo finally cried out. Gray light filtered in the tiny window. He had no idea how much time had passed since his pains had begun.
“Truthfully, I do not know,” Strider said. “Some babies come very soon, but others…I do not know how it is among your kind.”
“I fear it will never end,” Frodo said, and he weakly clutched at the towel that was shoved beneath his bottom.
“Frodo, if you promise not to kick me, will you allow me to look inside and see if the babe has made progress?”
Frodo sighed. Another pain was building and he had not the will to control his limbs, but he would try. “I shall try,” he said, and he whimpered slightly as the next pain rolled in like a furious ocean wave. Strider knelt at the foot of the bed. He slid his fingers inside Frodo, causing the hobbit to writhe uncomfortably. Strider’s face looked concerned.
“What is it?” Frodo asked, breathing quickly. The last pain had been rough, but it had passed. “What is wrong?”
“I do not see that the babe is moving.”
Frodo bit his sleeve in frustration as yet another pain built up. All this pain had been for nothing? He could not imagine that nothing could be happening. His body was putting forth everything to eject the babe, and if nothing was happening, then perhaps the guards had been right - even with Strider, both he and the babe would likely die.
“But there is something I can do to help. This works with women of my kind, and we shall see if it works with you, my dear hobbit.”
Frodo nodded, tears of fatigue filling his eyes. “All right.”
Aragorn stood over him and placed his hands over Frodo’s huge belly. His hands were strong and purposeful as he massaged, first rubbing in small circles, and then pushing downward. Frodo felt the pain ease somewhat and he nearly fell into a satisfied drowse.
“What are you doing?” Frodo asked weakly.
“I am hoping to encourage the little one to come on out now.”
“Does this really work?”
“We shall see. Now, the next pain that comes, Frodo, you need to work, too. You need to go back to your breathing and you need to imagine with all your heart that this babe is coming out.”