Too Long to Wait: Blood and Pain
Frodo was thrilled for a chance to help Koslorn in the
Houses of Healing. Aragorn had suggested it as a cure for
restlessness when he had awakened this morning feeling
better than he had all month. Day after day of vomiting
all morning and spending most of the day in bed had caused
a shameful (for a hobbit) weight loss everywhere but in his
swelling abdomen. And if he had to spend another day doing
nothing but reading quietly while Aragorn was gone most of
the day, he would go mad.
Koslorn gave Frodo a stern look under his brows. "You let
me know if you feel any discomfort at all. I don't want
you on your feet for too long, and I mean to send you back
to your quarters after a few hours."
"I feel better than I have in weeks," Frodo said with a
smile, sliding his hand over his slightly swollen belly in
wonder. It had only been a month since he had found out.
He still could not grasp the concept that there was a
living being inside him where none was meant to be.
"Is Aragorn taking the news any better?" Koslorn asked.
"Well." Frodo frowned. Aragorn had barely spoken to him
during the last few weeks. That is, they chatted lightly
about the weather, the amusements of Aragorn's daily
duties, and the books Frodo had read. Aragorn took care of
him every morning when he was sick--wiped his brow, made
sure a basin was at hand, gave him tea with gingerroot in
it, and would not leave until the worst of the vomiting had
subsided, but he would not speak directly about Frodo's
condition. Frodo knew Aragorn was not angry with him -- it
was only that he was worried sick and not ready to confront
his feelings on the matter. "I hope he will come to accept
it soon."
"I hope so, too." Koslorn smiled and handed Frodo a pile of
white cloths. "Here now, you can help me fold these clean
bandages. That way you can stay off your feet."
"I tell you, Koslorn, I feel all right," Frodo said with a
wan smile. "But I will happily fold bandages for you."
Several hours passed. Frodo had been honest about feeling
better than he had in a long time, and he found himself
humming under his breath as he folded the white cloths. He
found the act soothing, and pretty soon his nimble hands
worked automatically, allowing his mind to roam. He smiled
as he wondered how he would tell the news to his friends in
the Shire. Sam, who already had several little ones, ought
to be ecstatic, since his letters had indicated deep
sympathy for Frodo and Aragorn, that they would never get
to experience the joy of life that he and Rosie had.
Frodo composed a letter in his mind as he worked, thinking
he would write in earnest that evening.
Dear Sam,
I hope all is well with you and yours. This letter should
reach you relatively soon. Yours have been reaching me
within two months. Kisses to Elanor, Rose, Frodo, little
Pippin, and all the others that I am no doubt forgetting--
ha ha. As per your question, I am eating very well here.
You must not worry about me wasting away on mannish fare.
Aragorn has spared no expense in the chef, as he knows how
dear food is to a hobbit's heart!
Today I folded bandages in the Houses of Healing, believe
it or not. I do not know if you remember the healer,
Koslorn. He is very skilled, and he no doubt helped
Aragorn in healing us when we were first brought from
Mordor. He is a kind man, and, well, I believe he will play
rather predominantly in my life in the coming months.
I do not know how to tell you this gently, dear Sam, so I
will be blunt. I am with child. I know how ridiculous
this must seem to you. I can see you scratching your head
and wondering whether your dear Mr. Frodo has truly become
cracked, as everyone in the Shire already believes. I
cannot explain it, other than to repeat what Koslorn told
me, that it probably has something to do with Aragorn and I
being so different, he being a Man and I a Hobbit.
I would love it--and I hope I am giving you enough notice
here--if you could come for a visit to be with me for the
birth (*birth*, Sam!) and for the time right after. I would
dearly love hobbit company. The baby will come sometime in
late May.
I'm afraid Aragorn is not taking the news as well as he
could. He is very frightened for me, but I know I will be
all right. The Valar would not give us such a rare gift if
it would all be in vain! In fact, I find myself getting
very excited. You will have to help me with names! Sam, my
breeches already feel tight! Soon I'll have no need for the
braces that Aragorn teases me so about.
I do hope you can come.
Eagerly yours,
Frodo Baggins
Frodo's deep and pleasant reverie was broken by a sudden
wretched moaning and wailing, like a hurt animal. Frodo
jumped to his feet, dropping a pile of already folded
bandages. A woman--and she was screaming in pain!
"Please help her!" a man said in a panicked voice.
Frodo ran into the next room, where Koslorn and a man
dressed as a Guard of the Citadel helped set a woman with a
huge belly on one of the beds.
"Her pains started while we were walking," the Guard said.
"She was not to deliver for another month, but see now,
she's bleeding! One moment we were walking and then--" His
voice broke off, and Frodo was disturbed to see one of the
Guards of the Citadel so shaken.
A red stain quickly spread on the woman's smock. Her eyes
were wild with delirious pain, and Frodo's stomach turned
that this woman's pains had brought her so quickly to this
state of delirious agony.
"There now, it is only childbirth," Koslorn said, winking
at Frodo. "It's the most natural thing in the world.
Frodo, can you get some water boiled?"
Frodo watched as the woman clutched the sheets in such
frantic agony. Her sweat-bathed face was pinched, and she
moaned, whipping her head from side to side. Frodo
wondered if this would be him when his time came. As
frightening as that was, the end result would make it all
worthwhile. Just a few hours of pain, and he could handle
that because he had already experienced much pain in his
life. And that pain had come with no reward.
After Frodo got the water boiling, he scooted a stool next
to the bed, and he wiped the lady's brow with a cloth
soaked in water. Koslorn tried to make her as comfortable
as possible, spreading out her legs, readying her for when
the child was ready to come. The husband paced fretfully,
wiping his own brow.
"There now," Frodo said, his hand trembling. The pain
seemed to radiate from the woman's wild eyes, and Frodo
felt a wave of protectiveness for the bulge in his belly.
"It's all right. You'll soon have a babe in your arms."
"Here." Koslorn gave Frodo a cup of tea. "Have her sip
this if you can. The herbs in here will speed up the
birth."
"Please," Frodo said, tucking his arm behind the lady's
clammy neck and raising her head just a little. "Take a
few sips of this. This will make it go faster."
The woman whimpered, but her lips clamped around the edge
of the cup. She took several gasping sips of the tea before
sagging back down on the pillow.
"That's good. Very good." Frodo wiped her brow again.
"What do you intend to name the child?"
The woman's pain-glazed eyes focused on Frodo. She looked
puzzled, and Frodo wondered if she had seen a hobbit
before. She would have been a young lass at the end of the
war, and Frodo had spent very little time in the general
population of Minas Tirith in the past years. "Faramir for
a boy child," she finally gasped. "Ioreth for a girl." Her
eyes glazed again, and she let out a pained yelp.
Hours passed. Frodo's arms were so tired he could barely
lift them to wipe the woman's face. He had given her two
full cups of the herbal tea. Still no sign that the infant
was coming. The woman's cries and groans grew weaker.
Frodo was surprised when Aragorn walked in.
"Frodo, I was looking for you -- What is happening?"
"The babe is simply not coming," Koslorn said. "Frodo's
done a marvelous job of keeping the lady calm, though he
should probably take a rest."
"What does it mean, the babe is not coming?" The Guard
suddenly yelled, grabbing Koslorn's arm. Frodo's heart
beat quickly, terrified that the Guard would do harm to
Koslorn in his panic. "Why are you not doing anything?" He
turned to Aragorn. "My liege, she's bleeding!"
While Aragorn questioned Koslorn as to the herbs he had
used, Frodo watched in horror as the red stain on the sheet
spread rapidly. His stomach flipped and turned, and he
swallowed as a black haze clouded his vision. Now was not
the time to be sick. He needed to stay strong. He blinked,
trying desperately to clear his vision. There was just so
much blood. He wiped the lady's brow again and murmured
soothing words to her that he knew she could not
comprehend.
"I will be right back," Aragorn said before leaving.
Koslorn knelt in front of Frodo and whispered. "She's not
going to make it, but we can save the babe if we cut into
her. I need you to cut her smock so that her belly is fully
exposed and wash her--Do you understand?"
"Oh, no," Frodo said, touching his own belly. He forced
himself not to dwell on it for now, and he grabbed a clean
knife from a table next to the bed and sliced open the
woman's smock. Something unyielding clamped around his
upper arm and he was spun around to face the woman's
husband.
"What are you doing?"
"You must leave the room," Frodo said, trying to pull out
of his grip. "You must let us help."
"Be truthful with me, Master Halfling," the Guard said in a
hoarse voice. "Is she dying? Will the baby die?"
"Please let go of me. You must let me help her," Frodo
said in a clear voice. He was sick to his stomach and he
had to swallow over and over to keep from vomiting on the
Guard.
"Release him," Koslorn said, uncurling the guard's fingers
from Frodo's arm. He led the shocked man into the other
room, talking to him in a soothing voice. Frodo breathed
out a sigh of relief and did as Koslorn had commanded. His
limbs felt onerous, and he felt like he moved in slow
motion. He was weary and nauseated, and tears filled his
eyes at the idea that they might not be able to save this
woman and her child.
Aragorn bustled into the room, carrying several fragrant
herbs. "I found some--" He paused in horror when he saw
that the crimson stain under the woman's legs had become
much more extensive and the sheets was soaked through.
"Oh, no," he breathed.
"It's bad," Frodo said, his chin shaking. "Koslorn says--"
"Did you check her pulse, Frodo?" Aragorn asked quietly.
Frodo shook his head, his heart racing. He held his breath
as Aragorn felt for the pulse. Aragorn looked grim as he
shook his head. "She's gone. Let us try to save the
child."
"Gone?" Frodo said, clutching his throat and a wave of
dizziness overwhelmed him. He staggered, and Aragorn spun
around to catch him.
"You shouldn't be here," Aragorn said, looking into Frodo's
weary eyes with sudden concern. "Go on back to our room
and lie down. I don't want you here to see this."
"Save the baby," Frodo said, pulling out of Aragorn's grip.
"Do not worry about me."
"Sit down at least," Aragorn said, and Frodo noticed that
the king's eyes were filled with tears.
Frodo quietly threw up several times in a nearby basin as
Aragorn cut into the dead woman's abdomen. Blood streamed
everywhere, soaking the bed, pooling on the floor around
the bed. Aragorn pulled out the baby, a boy child. The
baby was blue, not breathing at all.
"Can we save him?" Frodo cried, jumping to his feet on
shaky thighs. "Can we do something?"
Aragorn shook his head. "See, look. The life cord is
wrapped around his neck. He was no doubt dead before she
gave birth." He looked at Frodo with naked emotion and did
not protest when Frodo took the baby from him. Frodo sat,
bending his head over the baby as if giving him a long kiss
on the head, and he began to weep.
Aragorn sat beside Frodo and put his arm around him.
"Frodo," he said in a hoarse voice. "This will not happen
to you. I will not allow it."
"There is nothing," Frodo said, his voice muffled by sobs.
"Nothing more tragic."
"I know," Aragorn said, kissing the top of Frodo's head. He
let his lips rest there, and they trembled. Aragorn's
breathing was jagged, but Frodo sensed the Man's body
shaking with the tears he did not want to show. Koslorn
entered, and froze when he saw the scene.
Aragorn did not look up, yet his voice still managed to
sound commanding, even while muffled by Frodo's curls. "Go
tell the Guard that tragically, his wife and child are
dead. Tell him I grant him a month's leave."
Koslorn nodded and went out into the room where the Guard
was waiting. Frodo heard a muffled shout and ragged
weeping. Frodo held the dead baby close. For a long time,
what seemed like hours, they sat like that together, the
three of them.
Finally, Aragorn stirred. "Frodo, let me have the child."
Frodo nodded without looking up and let Aragorn take the
dead baby from him. He felt empty and cold inside, his
stomach shaking with fear. He climbed to his feet, but he
felt dizzy and everything seemed dim and faraway. The smell
of stale blood filled his nostrils, and he swayed on his
feet.
"Let us go from here." Aragorn's weary, sad faced changed
to alarm. "Frodo, are you all right?"
"I don't think-I can't-" Frodo said. The room tilted and
turned black as he fell into unyielding arms.
***
Aragorn set Frodo on their bed and propped his head up with
pillows. He winced when he saw the blood splattered over
Frodo's white shirt. "Let me help you out of these
clothes."
"I'm not going to live through it, Aragorn." Frodo clutched
his abdomen.
Aragorn shook his head and continued to unbutton Frodo's
shirt. "No, Frodo, no. That will not happen to you. By all
the power within me, I will not let it happen."
"If a healthy young woman can't bear a child, then what
shall I expect?"
"Oh, Frodo...Frodo..." Aragorn climbed on the bed and hugged
him close, kissing him, smoothing his curls. "I will not
lose you."
They were silent as Aragorn helped Frodo into a clean
nightshirt.
"Will you promise me something?" Frodo finally asked
quietly.
"Anything."
"If this kills me and the child lives, will you make
certain he gets to see the Shire?"
"Do not say such things, Frodo."
"Promise me."
Aragorn clasped Frodo's hand and squeezed it. "He will see
the Shire but it will be because you will take him
there--and that will be a natural and necessary way of
showing him--or her--the lands under his rule."
Wiping away a stray tear, Frodo broke into a teasing grin.
"Do not fool yourself into thinking that you rule the
Shire. No Big Person could possibly rule all us
unmanageable hobbits!"
"No?" Aragorn lifted his brows. "I think all I would have
to do is take away your pipe weed and mushrooms and issue
an edict forbidding the Shirefolk to eat more than three
meals a day."
"Well, you are a brave king indeed, to dare to face the
wrath of deprived hobbits," Frodo said.
"I will keep my one hobbit, thank you," Aragorn said,
tightening his grip around Frodo's waist. "I will not
concern myself with the others for now."
Frodo laughed and kissed Aragorn. Though he felt safe and
warm in Aragorn's arms, he still, at the back of his mind,
could not help but see himself as the woman dying in bloody
agony giving birth to a dead child, and he could not help
but see Aragorn as the Guard who had been led away, weeping
in grief.
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