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Request: Strider finding Frodo in labor in Bree


Aragorn ran as fast as he could manage for miles upon miles, only one thought on his mind.

No. No, it cannot be. Not Frodo.

“What happened?” he demanded when he reached the Prancing Pony. “How is he?”

“Upstairs,” Butterbur said, wiping his brow. “Room 21. I've made him as comfortable as I can, but I don't know what to do. The doc is at a loss.”

He looked away, which made Aragorn's stomach twist in fear. It was bad, far worse than he had imagined. Aragorn leaped up the stairs two at a time. He heard weak groans behind the door to Room 21 before he shoved it open.

Frodo lay on the bed, huge with child. His eyes were bleary and pain-filled. Blood soaked the sheets that had twisted around his legs. “You came,” he whispered. “I knew you would come.”

“What happened?” Aragorn fell to one knee and clasped Frodo's hands in his. “When – I did not know or I never would have left for so long.”

Frodo shook his head. “It doesn't matter.” He bit his lip. “I'm not going to make it. Please.” He looked pleadingly into Aragorn's eyes. “Please make sure this babe has a good home.”

“Nonsense,” Aragorn said, rubbing Frodo's belly. “I am here. Now spread your legs. Let's get this baby born.”
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