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Apr. 1st, 2004 06:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603You know...I nevah seem to find out about these things ahead of time, but...it's ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aratlithiel's b-day. I had to scramble for something to give her, so in the bit of time I had before I had to get ready for work, I just continued the little ditty I started a few days ago that I had written for ana_stasia...*blushes* HOpe it is an adequate wee pressie...:-)
previous part here
Frodo was caught by a pain so sharp that he cried out. Strider stroked Frodo’s back, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Nothing could ease this pain, though. Nothing. He writhed in Aragorn’s arms, barely feeling the sticky warmth filled his breeches. Aragorn pulled one of his hands away, looking in shocked horror at the blood on his hand.
“Frodo, I cannot move you. You shall have to birth here.”
“No, not…I’ll not have…not in this dark cell…”
“I am sorry, but moving you will be too great a risk.”
Frodo let out a desperate cry and lay limp in Strider’s arms. He clutched the Man’s hand and squeezed. “All right…as long as you promise to stay here.”
“I’ll not leave you.”
Strider lay Frodo gently on the cot again. He looked at Frodo’s backside with more horror than before, and Frodo’s breath hitched. What could the Man be seeing there to strike such terror in him?
“Guard!” Strider called in a hoarse voice.
The heavy footsteps stopped outside the cell. “I thought you were taking ‘im out of here, Longshanks. Can it be I’ve got you both now?” He jiggled the keys and laughed cruelly.
Strider was across the cell and had the guard’s throat in his grip within a second. Even through the pain, Frodo’s heart sped and now he could almost believe the Breefolk about Rangers. “None of your cells could keep me in, even if you wanted. The hobbit is bleeding out badly. I need some clean towels and boiled water immediately.”
The guard could do nothing but nod until Strider released his neck. He stumbled backwards and then laughed a bit. “I’ll get them, but I’d not put too much effort. Them breeding halflings don’t live. It’s not natural, you know.”
Strider glared at him, and he stumbled away.
Frodo had heard the guard’s cruel words, and his breaths now came out in a panic. “Is it true? There’s no way we can survive this?”
“None of the other hobbits who faced this had me around.” He gave Frodo an encouraging smile. “Now, I do not know about you, but I want to see my son or daughter.”
Frodo nodded. “You’re a healer?”
“I would not go so far as that,” Strider said, pulling something that looked like dried tea leaves from his pouch. “But I have some healing skills. Chew this. It will taste bitter to your tongue but it will ease you.”
Frodo obeyed him, though he felt that he might vomit at any moment, so intense with the pain that gripped his middle. The taste was indeed bitter, and he grimaced, but forced himself to finish. He would endure much to dull some of the pain.
“Now, Frodo. Now that you’ll soon see some of your pain faded into the background, I want to talk to you about breathing.”
Frodo gasped through another spasm across his middle, clutching his belly and crying out. The leaves certainly did not take effect immediately.
“What did you give me?” Frodo cried. “It seems to have made it worse.”
“Nay,” Strider said, and Frodo was furious to see that he was laughing a little. “It is only that the birth is progressing. The leaves are called athelas and they can be found in the wild around Bree. They are marvelous for easing pain.”
As Strider spoke, the pain indeed began to ease. Frodo found that his breaths came easier and that he could actually take in his environment without too much trouble. The cell was dark except for the light of the moon, which streamed in from a tiny window high up the wall. So high up that even a tall man would have difficulty reaching it. The ground was filthy, mostly made of dirt and straw. A jug of water had been left for him, though he had been in too much pain to get any of it.
“Strider,” he said. “I am thirsty. May I have some water?”
Strider nodded. “I shall get you some in just a moment, but first I wish to talk to you about breathing. You cannot panic each time a pain comes onto you.”
Frodo smiled. “But now the pain is over. The ath…ath-a—“
“Athelas.”
“Athelas leaves seem to be doing their duty.”
“That is good,” Strider said. “But it shall not last the whole birth, and I do not have much more. I would save the worst for when the birth is imminent, as that is when your pain will be worse.”
“It gets worse?” Frodo paled. How did women endure this year after year, in some cases?
“Yes, it will,” Strider said. “Your pains are not now close together, and I fear we shall be in here a long time. Now listen. When a pain comes over you, I want you to breathe like this.” Strider took in a deep breath and then puffed it out in spurts. “You want to use your breathing as a way to help control your body into pushing the babe out. Now you practice.”
Frodo imitated Strider’s breathing. Then he laughed a little. “I feel rather foolish, but it does calm me.”
“Yes, that it is meant to do, too.”
The guard returned then with the towels and water.
aratlithiel's b-day. I had to scramble for something to give her, so in the bit of time I had before I had to get ready for work, I just continued the little ditty I started a few days ago that I had written for ana_stasia...*blushes* HOpe it is an adequate wee pressie...:-)previous part here
Frodo was caught by a pain so sharp that he cried out. Strider stroked Frodo’s back, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Nothing could ease this pain, though. Nothing. He writhed in Aragorn’s arms, barely feeling the sticky warmth filled his breeches. Aragorn pulled one of his hands away, looking in shocked horror at the blood on his hand.
“Frodo, I cannot move you. You shall have to birth here.”
“No, not…I’ll not have…not in this dark cell…”
“I am sorry, but moving you will be too great a risk.”
Frodo let out a desperate cry and lay limp in Strider’s arms. He clutched the Man’s hand and squeezed. “All right…as long as you promise to stay here.”
“I’ll not leave you.”
Strider lay Frodo gently on the cot again. He looked at Frodo’s backside with more horror than before, and Frodo’s breath hitched. What could the Man be seeing there to strike such terror in him?
“Guard!” Strider called in a hoarse voice.
The heavy footsteps stopped outside the cell. “I thought you were taking ‘im out of here, Longshanks. Can it be I’ve got you both now?” He jiggled the keys and laughed cruelly.
Strider was across the cell and had the guard’s throat in his grip within a second. Even through the pain, Frodo’s heart sped and now he could almost believe the Breefolk about Rangers. “None of your cells could keep me in, even if you wanted. The hobbit is bleeding out badly. I need some clean towels and boiled water immediately.”
The guard could do nothing but nod until Strider released his neck. He stumbled backwards and then laughed a bit. “I’ll get them, but I’d not put too much effort. Them breeding halflings don’t live. It’s not natural, you know.”
Strider glared at him, and he stumbled away.
Frodo had heard the guard’s cruel words, and his breaths now came out in a panic. “Is it true? There’s no way we can survive this?”
“None of the other hobbits who faced this had me around.” He gave Frodo an encouraging smile. “Now, I do not know about you, but I want to see my son or daughter.”
Frodo nodded. “You’re a healer?”
“I would not go so far as that,” Strider said, pulling something that looked like dried tea leaves from his pouch. “But I have some healing skills. Chew this. It will taste bitter to your tongue but it will ease you.”
Frodo obeyed him, though he felt that he might vomit at any moment, so intense with the pain that gripped his middle. The taste was indeed bitter, and he grimaced, but forced himself to finish. He would endure much to dull some of the pain.
“Now, Frodo. Now that you’ll soon see some of your pain faded into the background, I want to talk to you about breathing.”
Frodo gasped through another spasm across his middle, clutching his belly and crying out. The leaves certainly did not take effect immediately.
“What did you give me?” Frodo cried. “It seems to have made it worse.”
“Nay,” Strider said, and Frodo was furious to see that he was laughing a little. “It is only that the birth is progressing. The leaves are called athelas and they can be found in the wild around Bree. They are marvelous for easing pain.”
As Strider spoke, the pain indeed began to ease. Frodo found that his breaths came easier and that he could actually take in his environment without too much trouble. The cell was dark except for the light of the moon, which streamed in from a tiny window high up the wall. So high up that even a tall man would have difficulty reaching it. The ground was filthy, mostly made of dirt and straw. A jug of water had been left for him, though he had been in too much pain to get any of it.
“Strider,” he said. “I am thirsty. May I have some water?”
Strider nodded. “I shall get you some in just a moment, but first I wish to talk to you about breathing. You cannot panic each time a pain comes onto you.”
Frodo smiled. “But now the pain is over. The ath…ath-a—“
“Athelas.”
“Athelas leaves seem to be doing their duty.”
“That is good,” Strider said. “But it shall not last the whole birth, and I do not have much more. I would save the worst for when the birth is imminent, as that is when your pain will be worse.”
“It gets worse?” Frodo paled. How did women endure this year after year, in some cases?
“Yes, it will,” Strider said. “Your pains are not now close together, and I fear we shall be in here a long time. Now listen. When a pain comes over you, I want you to breathe like this.” Strider took in a deep breath and then puffed it out in spurts. “You want to use your breathing as a way to help control your body into pushing the babe out. Now you practice.”
Frodo imitated Strider’s breathing. Then he laughed a little. “I feel rather foolish, but it does calm me.”
“Yes, that it is meant to do, too.”
The guard returned then with the towels and water.