A Special Namesake for Lilybaggins
Jan. 7th, 2015 08:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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“Estel, Nob found me outside,” Halbarad said, grasping Aragorn’s shoulder. “There’s a young halfling in the family way, upstairs in one of the back rooms. They think his time has come, and he’s very frightened. Nob thinks he might not know what is happening.”
Aragorn sighed. “If only someone would educate these innocent hobbits about such matters. So many have lost their lives in recent years. No proper care, feeling the need to hide away from anyone who can provide care.”
“This one is not local, from what Nob says. Thinks he’s from the Shire, by his talk.”
Aragorn turned to Nob, who was hovering by the door to the Prancing Pony. “Take me to him.”
Nob led Aragorn upstairs to a quiet room at the end of the hall. Nob’s face expressed a cross between fascination and revulsion, and Aragorn understood why hobbits who had gotten themselves in these fixes felt the need to hide.
“He says his name is Frodo Baggins, from the Shire.” Nob lowered his voice. “He was. . .Well, we saw him often sharing ale and who knows what else with some of the Big Folk traveling through, going who knows where. He doesn’t know who the father is.”
When Aragorn entered the room, he paused, struck by how fair the young hobbit was - more slender than most, large blue eyes, dark curls that contrasted with his smooth, pale skin, a cleft in his chin. Frodo had pulled a sheet up to his chin, but the huge lump of his belly left no doubt. Beads of sweat had broken out on his brow. He breathed rapidly, and then his face contorted with pain. He let out an anguished cry.
“Nob, bring me hot water.”
“Yes, sir,” Nob said and hurried away.
“Who are you?” Frodo asked quietly when the pain had passed.
“I am called Strider, and I am here to help.”
Frodo sighed, his chin shaking. “There’s nothing to help with, I’m afraid. I won’t survive this. I’ve gotten myself in a terrible fix and I don’t know how...this is impossible, is it not?”
“Nonsense,” Aragorn said, pulling a stool up beside the bed. “Now you must let me take a look. Will you allow it?”
Frodo nodded, although his vivid eyes widened with fear. He groaned with pain as another contraction built hard and fast. He yelled again, loud, uncontrolled. Sweat dribbled down his face.
Aragorn gently lifted the sheet from Frodo’s bottom half. He tried not to show his dismay at the pool of blood on the sheets. “I’m going to remove your trousers.” He tugged at the trousers, which fit poorly and hung around his hips, unable to accommodate the giant belly. After the trousers were removed, Aragorn felt the belly, feeling for movement. He put his ear on the belly and listened. The babe appeared to be alive still, he noted with relief.
Nob hurried in with the hot water at that moment. He looked at Frodo in pity and horror. “Will there be anything else, sir?”
“No, Nob, thank you very much,” Aragorn said, taking the hot water from him.
Nob rushed out of the room. Aragorn’s heart ached for Frodo. He was in Bree alone, with no friends or family, and any hobbit who knew what state he was in would shun him in horror and disgust. He had hope at least that he might return to the Shire at least when this was all done.
“It is time to push now,” Aragorn said. “I can see the head crowning.”
“I can’t,” Frodo said, shaking his head. “The pain…”
“The pain will be over when the babe is out, so I need you to push as soon as you feel the next pain.”
Frodo shook his head again. “What will become of us?” he asked. “It may be better if we both perish.” The pain was building again, Aragorn could tell by the anguish in Frodo’s face.
“I will not allow that,” Aragorn said. “Now push!”
The babe slipped out by the third push, bringing blood and a healthy, surprisingly strong cry. Aragorn was shocked that Frodo had not torn much at all, nothing that could not be repaired by holding clean cloths to the wounds. Hobbits truly were resilient creatures, at least if they had proper care. Aragorn smiled as he handed Frodo the squalling babe.
“He made it,” Frodo said in exhausted wonder. “We...I did not expect. I feel..well, he is very precious, isn’t he?”
“He is. What will you name him?”
“Well, I do not quite know right now, but Strider sounds about right, if you don’t mind, of course.”
“I do not,” Aragorn said with a smile.
END
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Date: 2015-01-08 07:10 am (UTC)And naming the baby Strider---lol. That should be fun to explain to everyone. Although, I have to admit it sounds kind of hobbity!
Thank you---this was a wonderful Christmas card. :)
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Date: 2015-01-08 01:44 pm (UTC)Glad you enjoyed!!!! :))
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Date: 2015-01-08 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-01-08 06:20 pm (UTC)Thank you!!!! :)
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Date: 2015-01-08 03:52 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2015-06-07 12:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-05-03 10:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-06-07 12:02 pm (UTC)