FIC: Preparing (Part 2 of 5 of the Aftermath Series) by Ancalime

Genre: MPREG, Slash
Pairing: Frodo/Many
Characters: Frodo, Aragorn, Elrond
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: Post-Quest, Minas Tirith, blatant disregard for canon (as if you hadn't already guessed :p)
Author LJ: ancalime8301



***

Frodo met the Elves' arrival in Minas Tirith with resignation. He'd been carefully avoiding Aragorn in the weeks since that blasted examination; he didn't care to hear the excuses the Man would invent for his verbal faux pas. That, and he rather enjoyed making the King squirm. So whenever Aragorn asked to speak with him, Frodo sent someone else as the intermediary. Gandalf scolded him for being foolish and stubborn, but he didn't really listen. After all, what did Gandalf know about being pregnant?

When Frodo learned the Elves that arrived were Elrond and a few companions, come ahead of Arwen's company because the King sent word of the Ringbearer's condition, he knew he'd be forced to face Aragorn -and that darn table- sooner rather than later. That night no one disturbed him, but he slept horribly -whether from anxiety or from the heat already settling in for summer, he couldn't tell. When morning came, he was sweaty, ill-tempered, and, as always, uncomfortable. He sought cooler environs as soon as he was dressed.

Thus, Aragorn and Elrond located him some time later, taking a nap in one of the small parlor-type rooms that lay near the center of the building. He was lying on the floor, his head in Sam's lap and his somewhat swollen feet up on a pillow. Sam saw the Big Folk enter, and motioned for them to be quiet. But it was too late; Frodo shifted, blinked, and murmured sleepily, "What is it, Sam?" Then he noticed the looming figures just past his feet. "Oh." He yawned and closed his eyes again. "Go 'way."

"You know we cannot do that, Frodo," Elrond tried to reason with him after several moments. "You are quickly nearing your time, so it is wise to ensure matters are as they should be."

Aragorn remained silent. He hadn't told Elrond that Frodo was upset with him -explaining that would mean he'd have to explain a few other things, and, well, how do you tell the one who raised you and is your soon-to-be father-in-law that you might've knocked up the Ringbearer? That was one conversation Aragorn hoped to never have.

Frodo sighed irritably. "Oh, fine. Can't we do it in here? I'm almost comfortable for a change."

"We will make you as comfortable as possible, but we must move elsewhere to be most effective."

Frodo's eyes narrowed and he muttered something that made Sam stifle a laugh, then he struggled to his feet (with a bit of help from Sam). "All right, fine. Sooner started is sooner finished."

They led him back to the small room with the strange table, which Sam eyed with mistrust. Frodo decided to let Sam stay provided he wasn't looking; once Sam understood the purpose of the table, he was more than happy to just sit himself in the chair for the time being. Again, Frodo had to undress, but this time the robe provided had been altered to actually cover him. This was promising.

So was the small set of steps up to the table. Elrond gestured for him to climb on up, and Frodo found a soft towel padding the hard surface. He sat gratefully, watching Elrond and Aragorn prepare. Elrond brought over a light sheet and directed Frodo to lie down. He eased the hobbit's feet into the stirrups and used the sheet to cover Frodo's exposed parts while preparations were finished.

Well, now, this wasn't so bad. He could almost imagine he wasn't about to be humiliated again. Even when Elrond returned to the table, he spoke soothingly, explaining what he was doing as he felt Frodo's abdomen before moving to matters below. He washed his hands, folded back the sheet, and continued his gentle monologue. Now he was saying he will use a strip of cloth to keep Frodo's genitalia out of the way, draping the cloth over Frodo's thighs and tucking the ends under the hobbit's hips to keep the cloth taut. It felt strange, but did not hurt. Elrond moved on to do what Aragorn had done before, but this time the instrument was warm, and his methodical narration was reassuring and even somewhat lulling.

Frodo watched Aragorn with half-lidded eyes and hoped the Man was taking notes -this was how it should be done. And if he failed to take heed of Elrond's example, well, Frodo wouldn't be surprised if Aragorn's next 'victim' caused him bodily harm. Especially if it were Arwen. Frodo almost snorted aloud at the thought. Oh, yes, Arwen would certainly have something to say about a cold table, cold instruments, and the merciless exposure of sensitive areas.

Caught up in his amused musings, Frodo didn't notice the passage of time and was surprised when Elrond let his feet down and said, "You can sit up now, Frodo." While he dressed, Aragorn and Elrond conferred quietly in Elvish. "Everything is progressing as expected," Elrond said finally. "The babe is doing well for this stage, and I expect the birth will occur in two to four weeks."

"Two weeks?" He blanched. He knew, of course, that giving birth was the natural conclusion to all this, but the thought still unnerved him.

"Do not fret," Elrond assured him. "We will do everything possible to make you comfortable during the process. Your body is already beginning to prepare. It will be fine."

Frodo nodded numbly; he really didn't want to think about that part. "So the babe is all right?" This was what he really wanted to know from Elrond in the first place.

"The babe is doing well. Its body seems slightly small compared to the head, but that is not uncommon when the parent has endured less than ideal nutritional conditions for a period of time. This is usually remedied by rapid growth soon after birth. Until your time comes, be sure to rest and eat sufficiently, and all should progress smoothly."

Frodo wasn't sure if he should be relieved or worried. Ever since he learned of the babe's survival, he doubted he could care for it properly; he wondered if this hollowed-out feeling was just exhaustion or if he'd been irreversibly changed. And without knowing exactly who had assisted in his condition, he would feel guilty leaving the babe in the care of one who may not even be related. Unless . . . "I don't suppose you can tell when this came about?" he ventured.

Elrond glanced askance at him. "It is impossible to determine that with any accuracy, but based on your advancement, it was during the span of the three to four weeks immediately following the Council."

Three or four weeks . . . that didn't narrow it down much. In fact, most of his . . . activity occurred within that time. Frodo sighed. This was getting embarrassing.

~~~~

The next week was a flurry of preparations for the King's wedding. The hobbits were fitted with new suits for the occasion, which Frodo found rather awkward, but he had to admit the result was most satisfactory. The fabrics were light and airy, in consideration of the weather and his increased proclivity to feeling warm, and the waistcoat was cut and fitted so that his roundness wasn't too apparent -to his relief. He didn't want to make a spectacle of himself.

The day finally arrived -Midsummer, which the hobbits thought quite appropriate, being a day of festive celebration in the Shire- and brought mountains of food and rivers of drink. There were speeches and toasts, music and dancing, all of which led up to the grand banquet in the Great Hall. Frodo was pleased that he and the other hobbits were led to a table along the side; he'd be able to slip out for his frequent trips to the privy almost unnoticed. Not to mention they weren't very close to the King, so there wasn't much chance of being drawn into an unwelcome conversation with a certain persistent Ranger.

It was an enjoyable but exhausting day, so Frodo retired before the celebrations had ended, though he insisted the other hobbits remain (there weren't too many protests on that count, for Merry and Pippin had already celebrated quite a bit, if you catch my meaning). He was stiff and sore from sitting for such a length of time, so stretching out in bed felt very nice. He slept soundly through the night for the first time in weeks.

~~~~

Three days later, Arwen herself paid Frodo an unexpected visit while he was lounging in the small study and reading. She seemed to realize he felt awkward being around anyone in his state, and so made it brief, just to 'see how he was faring.' Merry and Pippin teased him about it at supper, but Frodo only blushed and tried to change the subject -his cousins didn't know the half of it.

Later that evening the cramps came back again -he'd had them every so often for weeks- so he tried to ignore them as before. It seemed to work, and he went to bed without thinking about it further.

But the cramp would not forget about him. He awoke partway through the night, in need of the chamber pot. As he finished his business, the cramp returned, a little more insistent than before. For many long minutes after it receded, he lay awake and waited to see if another would follow soon after. Nothing further happened, so he drifted back to sleep.

Several hours later, the scenario repeated itself, and again a little while after that. By the fourth time he awoke, Frodo wondered if perhaps he was dismissing these cramps too carelessly. But invariably he would fall asleep waiting for something else to happen.

That is, until dawn began to break. He'd been wakened again as the sky outside his window began to lighten. More pain closely following the first bit startled him, and he sat up, wide-eyed. Was it time? At the very least, he didn't think he'd be able to sleep any more. But he didn't want to disturb anyone without being more certain . . . so he lay back down to wait and see.

An hour passed, and he realized how lonely it was in this big room without his cousins and Sam. They used to all share the bed -they were now accustomed to sleeping in close proximity to each other- but after a while that arrangement was too hot and crowded for Frodo to sleep properly, and he would unintentionally rouse them when he woke in the night, so he'd kicked them out.

They were now in the next room, and he briefly considered waking someone to keep him company. But he rejected that idea; waking one would wake them all, and they'd likely overreact -well, Sam would, anyway- and send directly for Aragorn or Elrond, which he didn't think necessary just yet. So Frodo curled up on his side, stared out the small window, and waited.

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