A Fine Mess (implied Frodo/Sam) R 5/8
Title: A Fine Mess - Chapter 5/8
Author: Moit
Summary: After taking a walk, a pregnant Frodo finds himself at the mercy of a camp of rangers.
Rating: R
Pairing: implied Frodo/Sam
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, minor character death
Previous chapters here.
Strider did stay for dinner at Esmerelda's insistence. Afterward, he and Frodo stepped out into the cool night air for a smoke (only Strider smoked, of course) and to continue their interrupted conversation.
“If you are going with me, I would leave tomorrow,” Frodo began insistently. “I've been gone from Sam for far too long.”
“I am at your service, Master Baggins.” Strider said quietly.
“You are not going to argue with me?” Frodo hedged.
Strider took a long drag on his pipe before answering. “You've made your wishes clear. I have no desire to separate one from his partner, if that is where his heart truly lies.”
“It is,” Frodo answered automatically. “I love Sam.”
“I don't doubt that.”
Frodo looked down at himself, smoothing his hands over his belly. He was not sure what to say. So many things had changed in the last few weeks, not all of them good. He liked to think that he had become a stronger Hobbit because of the struggles he face, but somehow he felt weaker, both mentally and physically. Time away from Sam had been... beneficial, but Frodo found it incredibly difficult dealing with new stages of male pregnancy without his lover by his side. Nearly half of his moods made him want to burst into tears if someone so much as looked at him funny, while the other half made him want to yell and scream at everyone in the vicinity. Sometimes he wondered if he'd survive four more months of pregnancy, with or without Sam.
“If it is still your wish, we can set out for Hobbiton at first light,” Strider said quietly, pulling Frodo from his revere. “The route you took to get here only took a day, but that was because you ventured past my camp. We can skirt my Rangers, but it will take two, maybe even three days.”
“May I have your word that you will protect me from the other Rangers if we go that way?”
“You have my word that I will ensure your safety while in the presence of my Rangers.”
Inwardly, Frodo gave a sigh of relief. Admittedly, he did not know this Man very well, but for some reason, he was sure he could trust him.
As promised, Frodo and Strider left Buckland at the first sight of dawn. Merry had given him a tight hug, along with a promise to visit soon. He was as anxious as everyone else to meet the newest member of the Baggins-Gamgee family. Darvith had re-appeared in town the previous day, which was part of the reason Strider was so willing and able to take Frodo back to Hobbiton.
They set out with several days' rations with the intention of stopping at Strider's camp for the evening. Frodo was apprehensive about going back to the place where this whole mess started, but with Strider by his side, there should be nothing to worry about.
They made it to the camp just as the sun settled into its high-noon position in the sky. The day was warm, but not too hot, but Frodo needed to rest. Strider took the Hobbit directly to his own tent for a lie-down. He left the tent only when he was sure Frodo was asleep.
His Rangers crowded him as soon as he reappeared.
“One at a time,” he said, holding his hands up against their barrage of questions.
“Where have you been? And what is the Halfling doing here? Isn't he the one Stolis got himself killed over?” These questions came from Bareth. Next to the late Stolis, he was the one Strider had the most trouble with.
Strider scrubbed a hand across his brow. His life had gotten so much more complicated since Frodo appeared in his camp. “My whereabouts are non of your concern. You have your orders. If you are unable to perform your duties without my constant presence, please let me know and I shall release you from the company immediately.
“As for the Halfling, he will be here for the night and then I will see him off. No one is to bother him or even speak to him. Do I make myself clear?”
The Men around him nodded, although he heard a bit of grumbling, which was to be expected.
Strider spent the rest of the day making rounds in the camp. There were reports to review and ill Men to see, among other mundane tasks, which it seemed only Strider was capable of fixing. Sometimes it seemed as though his Men were completely unable to function without him. While it was an ego boost, it did nothing to assuage his fear that the Shire could be under attack if his Rangers failed to hold the border without him.
He didn't have a chance to head back to his tent until after dinnertime. He knew Frodo would be starving. With an apology on his lips, he threw back the flap of the tent.
His first reaction was confusion at the sight of the empty cot. Then he heard a moan and looked down. He fell to his knees beside Frodo, who was curled into a ball on the floor. The blood soaking through his trousers did not go unnoticed by Strider's keen eyes.
Keeping himself as calm as possible, Strider gathered the Hobbit in his arms and headed straight for the healer's tent. He was stripping Frodo's clothing off nearly as soon as he laid him down. The Hobbit seemed to be in so much pain he could only moan weakly as Strider turned him this way and that.
“Get me some poppy and some athelas!' he demanded of the other healer. “This is going to hurt, Frodo,” he said, although he wasn't sure if the Hobbit could hear him through his pain.
With no further delay, Strider thrust his first two fingers inside Frodo's body to ensure that his cervix was open. Frodo could only gasp and moan as contractions rippled through his belly. Strider pulled his bloody hand out of Frodo's body and wiped it on his leggings.
The other healer reappeared and Strider took the poppy first.
“Put this under your tongue,” he said, forcing the herb into Frodo's mouth with bloody fingers.
Within minutes, Frodo's tremors eased and his eyes closed to a drug-induced sleep.
Strider placed a mat beneath Frodo's bottom to absorb the blood and covered him with a blanket. Now it was just a waiting game.
Strider was sitting by the cot when Frodo's eyes opened the next morning. His breathing was heavy and he still seemed very much under the influence of the poppy. He rolled his dilated blue eyes toward Strider and held out his hand. Strider took it, laying his free hand on Frodo's forehead.
“The babe,” Frodo whispered, his voice sounding rough and unused.
Strider shook his head. He had changed the pad beneath Frodo's bottom twice over the course of the night.
“I am so sorry, Frodo.”
The Hobbit pulled his hand free of Strider's and rolled onto his side. Strider could see tears falling down the fair cheeks.
“You must be hungry.”
Frodo shook his head.
“Would you like some tea, even?”
Another shake.
“I would leave you, then. I shall return to check on you later.”
Frodo said nothing as the Man left him alone in the tent.
When Strider returned, he was surprised to see Frodo dressed in his blood-stained clothing, sitting on the bed.
“Frodo, you will continue to bleed for a few more days...” the Man started.
“I've taken care of it,” Frodo answered. His voice was hard and sharp as though it had been Strider himself who took his babe. “I would like to go home now.” He hopped down from the cot and Strider noticed with unease that the bump of Frodo's belly had already diminished noticeably.
“It would probably be best if we remain here until the bleeding stops.”
“Strider. I am going home.”
The Man had never heard Frodo sound so demanding and his heart broke for the small creature he had come to care so deeply for.
“Let me find you some clean breeches before we go.”
Frodo followed Strider out of the tent, his arms wrapped tightly about his midsection.
Author: Moit
Summary: After taking a walk, a pregnant Frodo finds himself at the mercy of a camp of rangers.
Rating: R
Pairing: implied Frodo/Sam
Genre: Drama
Warnings: Yaoi/Slash, mpreg, minor character death
Previous chapters here.
Strider did stay for dinner at Esmerelda's insistence. Afterward, he and Frodo stepped out into the cool night air for a smoke (only Strider smoked, of course) and to continue their interrupted conversation.
“If you are going with me, I would leave tomorrow,” Frodo began insistently. “I've been gone from Sam for far too long.”
“I am at your service, Master Baggins.” Strider said quietly.
“You are not going to argue with me?” Frodo hedged.
Strider took a long drag on his pipe before answering. “You've made your wishes clear. I have no desire to separate one from his partner, if that is where his heart truly lies.”
“It is,” Frodo answered automatically. “I love Sam.”
“I don't doubt that.”
Frodo looked down at himself, smoothing his hands over his belly. He was not sure what to say. So many things had changed in the last few weeks, not all of them good. He liked to think that he had become a stronger Hobbit because of the struggles he face, but somehow he felt weaker, both mentally and physically. Time away from Sam had been... beneficial, but Frodo found it incredibly difficult dealing with new stages of male pregnancy without his lover by his side. Nearly half of his moods made him want to burst into tears if someone so much as looked at him funny, while the other half made him want to yell and scream at everyone in the vicinity. Sometimes he wondered if he'd survive four more months of pregnancy, with or without Sam.
“If it is still your wish, we can set out for Hobbiton at first light,” Strider said quietly, pulling Frodo from his revere. “The route you took to get here only took a day, but that was because you ventured past my camp. We can skirt my Rangers, but it will take two, maybe even three days.”
“May I have your word that you will protect me from the other Rangers if we go that way?”
“You have my word that I will ensure your safety while in the presence of my Rangers.”
Inwardly, Frodo gave a sigh of relief. Admittedly, he did not know this Man very well, but for some reason, he was sure he could trust him.
As promised, Frodo and Strider left Buckland at the first sight of dawn. Merry had given him a tight hug, along with a promise to visit soon. He was as anxious as everyone else to meet the newest member of the Baggins-Gamgee family. Darvith had re-appeared in town the previous day, which was part of the reason Strider was so willing and able to take Frodo back to Hobbiton.
They set out with several days' rations with the intention of stopping at Strider's camp for the evening. Frodo was apprehensive about going back to the place where this whole mess started, but with Strider by his side, there should be nothing to worry about.
They made it to the camp just as the sun settled into its high-noon position in the sky. The day was warm, but not too hot, but Frodo needed to rest. Strider took the Hobbit directly to his own tent for a lie-down. He left the tent only when he was sure Frodo was asleep.
His Rangers crowded him as soon as he reappeared.
“One at a time,” he said, holding his hands up against their barrage of questions.
“Where have you been? And what is the Halfling doing here? Isn't he the one Stolis got himself killed over?” These questions came from Bareth. Next to the late Stolis, he was the one Strider had the most trouble with.
Strider scrubbed a hand across his brow. His life had gotten so much more complicated since Frodo appeared in his camp. “My whereabouts are non of your concern. You have your orders. If you are unable to perform your duties without my constant presence, please let me know and I shall release you from the company immediately.
“As for the Halfling, he will be here for the night and then I will see him off. No one is to bother him or even speak to him. Do I make myself clear?”
The Men around him nodded, although he heard a bit of grumbling, which was to be expected.
Strider spent the rest of the day making rounds in the camp. There were reports to review and ill Men to see, among other mundane tasks, which it seemed only Strider was capable of fixing. Sometimes it seemed as though his Men were completely unable to function without him. While it was an ego boost, it did nothing to assuage his fear that the Shire could be under attack if his Rangers failed to hold the border without him.
He didn't have a chance to head back to his tent until after dinnertime. He knew Frodo would be starving. With an apology on his lips, he threw back the flap of the tent.
His first reaction was confusion at the sight of the empty cot. Then he heard a moan and looked down. He fell to his knees beside Frodo, who was curled into a ball on the floor. The blood soaking through his trousers did not go unnoticed by Strider's keen eyes.
Keeping himself as calm as possible, Strider gathered the Hobbit in his arms and headed straight for the healer's tent. He was stripping Frodo's clothing off nearly as soon as he laid him down. The Hobbit seemed to be in so much pain he could only moan weakly as Strider turned him this way and that.
“Get me some poppy and some athelas!' he demanded of the other healer. “This is going to hurt, Frodo,” he said, although he wasn't sure if the Hobbit could hear him through his pain.
With no further delay, Strider thrust his first two fingers inside Frodo's body to ensure that his cervix was open. Frodo could only gasp and moan as contractions rippled through his belly. Strider pulled his bloody hand out of Frodo's body and wiped it on his leggings.
The other healer reappeared and Strider took the poppy first.
“Put this under your tongue,” he said, forcing the herb into Frodo's mouth with bloody fingers.
Within minutes, Frodo's tremors eased and his eyes closed to a drug-induced sleep.
Strider placed a mat beneath Frodo's bottom to absorb the blood and covered him with a blanket. Now it was just a waiting game.
Strider was sitting by the cot when Frodo's eyes opened the next morning. His breathing was heavy and he still seemed very much under the influence of the poppy. He rolled his dilated blue eyes toward Strider and held out his hand. Strider took it, laying his free hand on Frodo's forehead.
“The babe,” Frodo whispered, his voice sounding rough and unused.
Strider shook his head. He had changed the pad beneath Frodo's bottom twice over the course of the night.
“I am so sorry, Frodo.”
The Hobbit pulled his hand free of Strider's and rolled onto his side. Strider could see tears falling down the fair cheeks.
“You must be hungry.”
Frodo shook his head.
“Would you like some tea, even?”
Another shake.
“I would leave you, then. I shall return to check on you later.”
Frodo said nothing as the Man left him alone in the tent.
When Strider returned, he was surprised to see Frodo dressed in his blood-stained clothing, sitting on the bed.
“Frodo, you will continue to bleed for a few more days...” the Man started.
“I've taken care of it,” Frodo answered. His voice was hard and sharp as though it had been Strider himself who took his babe. “I would like to go home now.” He hopped down from the cot and Strider noticed with unease that the bump of Frodo's belly had already diminished noticeably.
“It would probably be best if we remain here until the bleeding stops.”
“Strider. I am going home.”
The Man had never heard Frodo sound so demanding and his heart broke for the small creature he had come to care so deeply for.
“Let me find you some clean breeches before we go.”
Frodo followed Strider out of the tent, his arms wrapped tightly about his midsection.