Chapter 2
It was a happy day and yet this walk seemed to Frodo to be interminable. He had been walking or standing for hours and his body was beginning to register its protests.
He was hot and the formal clothes that Gandalf had insisted he wear were not helping matters, the high stiff collar of the shirt seeming to strangle his throat. His stomach had been aching for several days and his feet, newly healed of their burns, were especially sensitive to the heat of the pavements of Minas Tirith. In the King's train, there was no way that Frodo could slip away so he concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as the procession wound its way through the streets, in the hope that their eventual destination would provide shade and a chair.
Loud cheers reverberated off the close stone walls of the surrounding buildings and the Ringbearer had to fight the urge to clap his hands over his ears. He glanced behind him to where Sam, Pippin and Merry were chattering and laughing and envied them their light-heartedness. They had all suffered injury during the quest but the effects did not seem to haunt them in the same way. Oh . . . he had heard their whimpers in the night when dreams became too dark, but their spirits seemed to rise with the sun, whereas his languished more often in the shadowed ashes of Mordor.
Behind the hobbits strode Gimli and Legolas. Two more opposites Frodo could not imagine and yet they walked side by side, the tall elf with one slender hand resting upon the dwarf's shoulder while Gimli pointed out features of the surrounding architecture. Ahead of the Ringbearer strode the Steward, Gandalf and the High King. Sunlight fractured upon the many jewels adorning the golden crown that appeared to sit so lightly upon the dark head of Aragorn, Telcontar, Estel, Isildur's Heir, Strider. But Frodo had felt the weight of that diadem when he had carried it to Gandalf and knew that his friend felt it too.
The avenues grew wider as they processed through the different levels of the city, moving ever upward towards the palace. Frodo had hoped that this would mean there was more air but the crowds simply grew thicker and the sun beat down more harshly as they left the immediate shadow of the buildings.
Frodo's stomach was feeling heavy and bloated and he wished he had eaten less at second breakfast, hoping that the discomfort did not presage an urgent need to visit the privy. The roar of the crowds began to buzz uncomfortably in his ears and the sun grew brighter. He strained to take deeper breaths as spots began to float before his eyes but his shirt felt as though it had been forged of iron instead of silk.
With a growing dread he recognised the symptoms at last when he felt bile rising in his throat. He was going to faint. He was right in the centre of a procession, everyone was staring at the Ringbearer, and he was going to faint. Frodo turned.
"Sam . . ." He had been going to ask his friend for an arm to lean on but his feet chose that moment to step upon a loose cobble and before he knew what was happening his back hit the ground, forcing the remaining air from his lungs and plunging him into darkness.
His next awareness was of floating. Prising open heavy eyelids, he swallowed against a feeling of nausea and found himself squinting up at Legolas' face. The elf's finely chiselled features smiled down at him.
"Just a little while longer and you will be in the shade, Frodo. Rest now."
The hobbit needed no further prompting and closed his eyes, resting his cheek against the elf's soft suede tunic. He was gratefully aware that someone had loosened his own shirt and tunic and the roar of the crowds was fading behind him. The sun had lost none of its fire but, cradled in Legolas' arms, he felt cooler somehow and he accepted that comfort willingly.
Suddenly the noise of the crowds was shut off completely, to be replaced by soft whispers and the cool shade of a building. Chancing a deeper breath, Frodo smelled herbs and then he was lowered onto something that yielded deliciously to his body. A pillow was tucked beneath his head and more beneath his knees and he sighed in relief as a cool damp cloth was laid over his eyes, only vaguely aware that his clothes were being removed prior to being draped in a soft sheet.
A large hand slipped beneath his head and the rim of a cup touched his lips.
"Sip slowly, Master Hobbit."
Frodo parted his lips obediently and tasted. It was cool water, sweetened with honey and slightly salty . . . a strange combination but curiously refreshing and he drained the cup steadily.
"Thank you," Frodo whispered as his head was returned to the soft support of the pillow.
"You are very welcome. How are you feeling now?"
With the cloth over his eyes Frodo could not see the owner of the soft voice but there was something soothing in its tone and he did not flinch when he felt gentle fingers resting over the pulse in his right wrist.
"Much better, thank you. I feel so silly, fainting like that."
The compress was removed and Frodo opened his eyes to seek out his carer, a man, in the pale grey garb of a healer. Wringing out the cloth in a basin of mint scented water, he draped its cool weight on Frodo's brow, leaving his eyes uncovered this time. Clear grey eyes met his and the hobbit was reminded of Aragorn.
"I am Master Healer Aldern. Will you allow me to examine you?" he asked, folding his arms.
Something within Frodo balked at the suggestion. He did now want to be examined. It was not that he did not trust this kindly man but . . .
"I . . . I only . . . fainted. It was the heat . . . I think . . . and I have not been . . . well." Something teased at his memory . . . the face of a tiny babe . . . bright blue eyes vaguely focussed. Frodo buried the image firmly, bringing his focus back on Aldern.
The silver grey eyes caught and held him. "If your companions had not told me of your previous illness I would be inclined to agree with you that it was only the heat and the strain of the day. But I think it would be well to ensure that there is no underlying problem and the King was most specific in his instructions. You are to rest here until he can visit you this evening."
A slight movement beyond the healer alerted him to the presence of Legolas and Sam in the doorway. Frodo rubbed his aching stomach absently. His friends would probably dog his footsteps forever more if he did not submit and put their minds at rest.
"Very well."
Aldern was thorough but gentle and Frodo found himself relaxing as the practised hands touched and moved him. The only time, in fact, that he was caused any discomfort was when Aldern pressed upon Frodo's chest.
Although there was no change in facial expression, the healer paused for a moment before palpating the flesh about Frodo's nipples and then moving down to the small, flat stomach. There was another pause and Frodo began to feel uneasy once more, wishing that this could be over.
"Would you bend your knees onto your stomach, please?"
Aldern took Frodo's ankles between the fingers of one large hand and helped his patient assume the requested position. Frodo squirmed a little and felt himself beginning to blush when fingers began to examine the area between his scrotum and back passage, hissing in alarm when Aldern encountered a sore spot.
"Thank you, Master Frodo."
Aldern lowered his patient's legs and re-arranged the sheet to cover him once more, before pulling up a stool and settling at the bedside.
"Were you already aware of the tenderness in your chest and lower regions?"
Frodo bit his lip. "The chest . . . yes. I . . . I hadn't noticed the . . . the other," he stammered, feeling the blush build.
"When dealing with hobbit physiology I have only my experience with Master Brandybuck to call upon. From what I have observed, your folk appear to be anatomically the same as men, but for your feet and stature." He paused and Frodo swallowed in a dry throat before nodding agreement.
"Do I take it, then, that it is usual for the females of your people to bear the children?" Aldern asked, watching his charge intently.
Frodo glanced towards the open doorway once more, where Sam and Legolas still hovered silently. Noting Frodo's hesitation, Aldern rose without comment and closed the door, before returning to his seat.
"Any discussion between us will be repeated to no-one, unless you give me your permission."
Frodo swallowed once more, desperately trying to moisten his throat, and Aldern handed him a cup of plain water, arranging some more pillows so that his patient was semi-reclining. The healer waited for his reply as the water was sipped gratefully but when Frodo spoke next his voice was barely more than a whisper.
"It is always the lasses that bear the children."
Aldern frowned at last, puzzlement finally registering on his features. "Then I am temporarily at a loss. All your symptoms would suggest that you are in the early stages of pregnancy. You would even appear to be developing a birth canal. It seems I will need to conduct a more thorough examination." He made to rise but Frodo grabbed his wrist, staying him.
"No. I . . . I think your . . . diagnosis may be . . . correct. Please . . . when will the King be free?"
"His message said that he would visit you this evening. But why do you believe that you could be with child? You have just told me that this is not the way of your people."
Frodo handed back the cup, suddenly feeling quite faint again. "There are . . . there are . . . special circumstances. Please . . . do not ask . . . any more." He could feel his chin beginning to quiver and his eyes were hot with mounting tears.
Aldern decided to bide his time and removed the extra pillows. "I think perhaps you should rest now. Would you like someone to stay with you?"
"No thank you. No . . . wait . . . perhaps Sam. If he would."
Aldern unfolded a light blanket from the foot of the bed and draped it over him, nodding in approval as Frodo rolled onto his side and curled up, closing deep blue eyes. He drew the curtains to dim the room and placed a small bell on the bedside table.
"I will bring the King to you as soon as he arrives and someone will come with a bowl of light broth in a little while. You must drink it all. If you need anything else please do not hesitate to ring the bell."
His instructions were met with a small nod and he did not pursue the matter further when he saw tears beginning to track down Frodo's cheeks. Aldern left, closing the door softly behind him.
When Sam slipped in a little while later if was to find that his master had cried himself into exhausted slumber.
TBC