Movieleggy: you're not giving this up, are you?
fazy: nope.
Movieleggy whines and tries to look as pathetic as possible while Bookleggy glares threateningly over the top of his preddie preddie bow.
fazy: oh, okay, okay, I'll make life easy for the 'Legolas' in the fic, okay. Jeez, man, some people are SO protective...
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Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. Cant say this chapter has no sex cos it has. Nothing graphic, but it's there. Just a little bit tho, so get your minds out of the gutter! =P
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)
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The next few minutes was a flurry of activity as Eowyn bustled about getting things ready. "Faramir, get a bucket of water, will you, and a basin if possible. No of COURSE I don't know where to find one, I don't live here you dolt. I don't know. Ask around."
"I think they would have at least one in the stables."
"Goodness no," she replied, climbing onto the stool. "Here, would you just hold it still a bit, there's a dear. And pass me that rope. Thanks."
"Why is the stool chipped in one corner?"
"It's not chipped. It's made that way."
"With a sorta... sorta... cleft?"
"Yes. Oh, and about the basin, try to get a proper one. The ones in the stable will be all dirty and horsy. Not that I have anything against horses, mind you. I love horses, they're *beautiful* beings, so lovely... no, Faramir, I'm not getting carried away. I may be Rohirrim but I'm not so mad about horses that I get carried away talking about them, thankyouverymuch," she said as she tied the rope tightly to the stoutest ceiling beam in the room, then tugged upon it once or twice to test it's security.
Satisfied with her handiwork, she jumped lightly off the stool and looked expectantly at Faramir. "Go on. Quickly. Shoo. Get moving. I need some hot water and a few more scarves-- oh, but then again a blanket will do just as well. If you don't want me messing about.. you know... his stuff... I can always run next door and get some."
"No, it's okay. Help yourself, there's plenty in the cupboard in the corner."
"Are you sure?" she asked softly. "Really, I can go next door, it's not a problem at all. Faramir, I know how much he meant to you... how much he still means to you."
"It's okay," Faramir replied, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I think Legolas would rather not be left alone. Besides, I need to move on. He doesn't need them. He's not coming back," he said and drew a shaky breath. "So," he said briskly. "What do you need me to get?"
"Bucket of water," she said, instantly switching back into business mode. "Basin. Oh, and knife. Knife, how could I forget. Is your dagger clean? No? Darn! Oh well, come on, get the water. We'll just wash it later. Hurry."
Faramir turned and scuttled out so obediently that she had to laugh. He truly was an adorable little git, wasn't he. Ah well...
"What do you want a dagger for?" Legolas managed to ask in between contractions, half afraid of her reply. He knew he was being silly, and that Eowyn was a nice, sane person, but a part of him was still apprehensive. What if she intended to use it to cut his neck. Or his belly. Or maybe even castrate him. Or something equally dreadful which he had not yet thought of. "What is it for?" he panted again.
"To cut the chord, but we need to burn it first over the fire."
"WHAT?!"
"To clean the blade."
"And draw red hot metal across my skin? Are you raving mad, woman!?"
"To cut the CHORD, the chord, not your SKIN. You won't feel a thing. Honest. Now let's get you to the stool."
"Why?"
"Because... Because..." she shrugged and waved her hands about helplessly. "Because it's Done. So you can have your baby."
"butIdontwannahaveababy"
"So does that mean you want to stay like this forever?" she asked, her hands on her hips. It was a gesture which would otherwise have appealed to him as rather sexy, if not for the fact that nine tenths of his brain was otherwise occupied by the very present threat of his labour. He shook his head meekly.
"I thought not. Now let's get you ready." With surprising gentleness, she helped Legolas strip out of his outer robe and helped him onto the birthing stool. "There. Hold on to that," she said, placing his hands on the thick length of rope. It felt good in his hands, nice and solid and strong. It fitted perfectly into the curvature of his palm, and he clung to it tightly.
And suddenly overcome by a warmth of emotion, Eowyn bent down and kissed Legolas softly on the forehead. "It'll be fine," she said reassuringly as she draped her arms around his shoulders. "You'll be great, just like you always are. I know you'll pull through this. Just be strong," she said simply and drew back before Faramir could return and catch them in such an intimate position. She knew without a doubt that Faramir would misinterpret her gesture, and the last thing she wanted was him to be wildly jealous of Legolas just when they would most need his help.
She stood up, and not a moment too soon, for scant seconds later, the door opened to reveal the Man balancing a basin under one arm while carrying a large bucket of water. "Go tend to Legolas," she whispered as she hurried up to relieve him of his load. "I'll take care of this," she said. Careful not to spill any water on the carpeted floor, she filled the basin to its halfway mark and set the rest of the contents over the fire to boil.
And then there was nothing left to do but to wait.
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fazy: nope.
Movieleggy whines and tries to look as pathetic as possible while Bookleggy glares threateningly over the top of his preddie preddie bow.
fazy: oh, okay, okay, I'll make life easy for the 'Legolas' in the fic, okay. Jeez, man, some people are SO protective...
________________________________________
________________________________________
Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. Cant say this chapter has no sex cos it has. Nothing graphic, but it's there. Just a little bit tho, so get your minds out of the gutter! =P
Gondor: With the onset of labour, Legolas can no longer remain in denial about his pregnancy. RoTK, post coronation but before Faramir marries Eowyn. Movieverse, cos bookleggy isn't so fun to toy around with. He'll kill me before I even *think* about messing with him. Movieleggy is much MUCH more fun to bully... Also starring Faramir & Eowyn, with some reminders of Boromir thrown in.
And as before, //... \\ indicates a person's thoughts. (Responses to reviews at bottom.)
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The next few minutes was a flurry of activity as Eowyn bustled about getting things ready. "Faramir, get a bucket of water, will you, and a basin if possible. No of COURSE I don't know where to find one, I don't live here you dolt. I don't know. Ask around."
"I think they would have at least one in the stables."
"Goodness no," she replied, climbing onto the stool. "Here, would you just hold it still a bit, there's a dear. And pass me that rope. Thanks."
"Why is the stool chipped in one corner?"
"It's not chipped. It's made that way."
"With a sorta... sorta... cleft?"
"Yes. Oh, and about the basin, try to get a proper one. The ones in the stable will be all dirty and horsy. Not that I have anything against horses, mind you. I love horses, they're *beautiful* beings, so lovely... no, Faramir, I'm not getting carried away. I may be Rohirrim but I'm not so mad about horses that I get carried away talking about them, thankyouverymuch," she said as she tied the rope tightly to the stoutest ceiling beam in the room, then tugged upon it once or twice to test it's security.
Satisfied with her handiwork, she jumped lightly off the stool and looked expectantly at Faramir. "Go on. Quickly. Shoo. Get moving. I need some hot water and a few more scarves-- oh, but then again a blanket will do just as well. If you don't want me messing about.. you know... his stuff... I can always run next door and get some."
"No, it's okay. Help yourself, there's plenty in the cupboard in the corner."
"Are you sure?" she asked softly. "Really, I can go next door, it's not a problem at all. Faramir, I know how much he meant to you... how much he still means to you."
"It's okay," Faramir replied, giving her hand a quick squeeze. "I think Legolas would rather not be left alone. Besides, I need to move on. He doesn't need them. He's not coming back," he said and drew a shaky breath. "So," he said briskly. "What do you need me to get?"
"Bucket of water," she said, instantly switching back into business mode. "Basin. Oh, and knife. Knife, how could I forget. Is your dagger clean? No? Darn! Oh well, come on, get the water. We'll just wash it later. Hurry."
Faramir turned and scuttled out so obediently that she had to laugh. He truly was an adorable little git, wasn't he. Ah well...
"What do you want a dagger for?" Legolas managed to ask in between contractions, half afraid of her reply. He knew he was being silly, and that Eowyn was a nice, sane person, but a part of him was still apprehensive. What if she intended to use it to cut his neck. Or his belly. Or maybe even castrate him. Or something equally dreadful which he had not yet thought of. "What is it for?" he panted again.
"To cut the chord, but we need to burn it first over the fire."
"WHAT?!"
"To clean the blade."
"And draw red hot metal across my skin? Are you raving mad, woman!?"
"To cut the CHORD, the chord, not your SKIN. You won't feel a thing. Honest. Now let's get you to the stool."
"Why?"
"Because... Because..." she shrugged and waved her hands about helplessly. "Because it's Done. So you can have your baby."
"butIdontwannahaveababy"
"So does that mean you want to stay like this forever?" she asked, her hands on her hips. It was a gesture which would otherwise have appealed to him as rather sexy, if not for the fact that nine tenths of his brain was otherwise occupied by the very present threat of his labour. He shook his head meekly.
"I thought not. Now let's get you ready." With surprising gentleness, she helped Legolas strip out of his outer robe and helped him onto the birthing stool. "There. Hold on to that," she said, placing his hands on the thick length of rope. It felt good in his hands, nice and solid and strong. It fitted perfectly into the curvature of his palm, and he clung to it tightly.
And suddenly overcome by a warmth of emotion, Eowyn bent down and kissed Legolas softly on the forehead. "It'll be fine," she said reassuringly as she draped her arms around his shoulders. "You'll be great, just like you always are. I know you'll pull through this. Just be strong," she said simply and drew back before Faramir could return and catch them in such an intimate position. She knew without a doubt that Faramir would misinterpret her gesture, and the last thing she wanted was him to be wildly jealous of Legolas just when they would most need his help.
She stood up, and not a moment too soon, for scant seconds later, the door opened to reveal the Man balancing a basin under one arm while carrying a large bucket of water. "Go tend to Legolas," she whispered as she hurried up to relieve him of his load. "I'll take care of this," she said. Careful not to spill any water on the carpeted floor, she filled the basin to its halfway mark and set the rest of the contents over the fire to boil.
And then there was nothing left to do but to wait.
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