________________________________________
________________________________________
Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.
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.)
________________________________________
________________________________________
"Check him, Faramir," Eowyn said quietly, after a particularly intense contraction had passed. "Please."
"I can't. I don't know what to check him *for*."
"I don't know," she said, and Faramir thought he could detect a small tremor in her voice. "Just do it."
"No you do it."
"Faramir!" she cried, now making no effort to mask her distress. "I can't! Faramir, he's a HE! I'm a girl, Faramir! You can't make me do that. Don't make me do that. Don't make me do that, please. Oh Gods, Legolas..." she trailed off helplessly. "Please?"
Biting his lip nervously, Faramir knelt before the elf, and wincing, lifted Legolas' robe. What he saw left him pale and green. "Eowyn," he rasped. "This is wrong. This is wrong. This is so wrong." He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "What *are* you?!?" he shuddered, and looked up at the elf in horror and revulsion "Dear gods, this is sick and wrong."
And Legolas could have hit him. In fact he was so furious that he almost did. Wasn't it bad enough that he was suffering here? What right had this *mortal* to judge! And to judge *him*. HIM! How dare he! If only he were in full control of his limbs, he knew beyond a doubt that Faramir would long have been reduced to a groaning pile on the floor. He would have the Man crawling out with his tail tucked between his knees. If... If... Legolas took a deep breath. If... if... if only. But his body was not in his possession any longer: it didn't follow his commands anymore. It took all of his energies to just concentrate on his labour. He could hardly even shift on the stool no matter how decidedly uncomfortable he was, let alone be master enough to beat the man to a pulp. The only thing he could do now was to grit his teeth and bear with it.
Did that mean that... he was... different? //Of course I'm different,\\ he spat bitterly. Otherwise he would never have gotten himself into this mess. All unbidden, a memory bubbled to the surface; a memory so startlingly vivid that Legolas could almost smell the wet earth beneath him, mingled with the strong bodily scent of his lover. He remembered the sound of his own breathing, shockingly loud to his ears amidst the swimming confusion of his other senses as the other plundered him that night, leaving him half paralysed with the weight of their combined passion.
And it had been surreal. Surreal, and Legolas had never experienced such an orgasmic intensity either before or after that incident. That must have been it then. That must have been the time where the child had been gifted to them. Somehow or other, by accident or otherwise he must have discovered Legolas'... but here even Legolas' mind turned away from the thought. Faramir was right. It did sound sick. The very idea of it was nauseating.
He choked back a mangled cry as the baby's head slid into the burning narrowness that was his birth canal. "Eowyn," he gasped in panic as he clung tightly to the length of rope. "Eowyn!"
"It's okay, Legolas," she cried, running up and taking him in her arms. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay," she said, rubbing his back. She continued to croon and soothe him as best as she could, and Legolas was heartily grateful for her human touch. "It's okay," she whispered, and the sincerity of her words pierced through the fog of his thoughts more potently than the blade of Anduril. It was about the only thing from the physical world that reached him, that registered in his mind. The rest of his being were thoroughly centred on the birth.
Faramir goggled. "Eowyn..." he called out warningly. "Eowyn, the baby... Eowyn.. EOWYN!"
"Oh, for goodness sake, if the baby's coming that support it!" she cried out in frustration. "Do *you* want to stand here and mind him? No? THEN CATCH!"
"But I'll drop it! I'll drop it! Dear god, it's blue! Eowyn, I'll drop the damn thing!"
"That's what the blanket's for. Use the blanket. Blankets are good things."
"Then I'll drop the blanket!"
"Don't be silly."
"I'M NOT BEING SILLY!"
It was about there that Eowyn gave up and turned her attention back to Legolas, hoping that if she left him alone for a bit, Faramir would pluck up the courage on his own. She had never been more right in her life, and after a few seconds of traumatised whining, Faramir settled down with a determined expression on his face, and Eowyn breathed a small sigh of relief.
"This was Boromir's room," she said quietly. "I know you can still feel him, Faramir. His presence here is strong. Boromir was a strong man. Let us all draw our strength from it."
//Boromir's room?\\ The words hit Legolas like a rock. He opened his other senses, and realised that what Eowyn had said was true. The presence was still there. How could he not have noticed it? He took a deep breath, drawing the Man's essence into his lungs and closed his eyes. He could feel Boromir here beside him.
//Boromir, lend me your strength,\\ he thought as he braced himself for the birth of his child. //Lend me your strength.\\
He felt the presence shift, and grow warm with an energy that engulfed him, and suddenly he found that he was surrounded by it, a calm steady aura that permeated his skin and entered his body, giving him the strength and will that he so desperately desired...
And then it was over, and Legolas felt himself go limp as a rag doll. And oh so slowly, like a lens swimming into focus, the mists around him thinned, and with the thinning grew the dim awareness of his being moved somewhere, to a bed or a mattress most likely. And only then did the strangled wail of a newborn register in his consciousness.
His newborn.
Relief swept over him, but was quickly replaced by another emotion: love... or was it regret? ... or a mixture of the two, most like. Love for the child, and for it's father, but a deep seated grief that the two would never have the chance to know each other...
"He's beautiful, Legolas," Eowyn whispered as she handed him the child, already cleaned and wrapped in a fresh blanket, and was shocked to see the tears that bathed the Elf's lovely cheeks. "What's the matter?" she asked, concerned.
"What am I going to do?" Legolas whimpered, cradling the child as it were the most precious thing on Midde Earth. "I feel awful. I don't know what to do. He deserves so much more... so much I cant give him... I was so *stupid*. I didn't know... didn't realise..." he whispered as he gazed wretchedly at the tiny face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," he said to the infant. "You deserve so much more..."
Faramir and Eowyn exchanged significant glances. After a time, she rose and excused herself, leaving the two men alone.
"Who's child is it, Legolas?" Faramir said softly, his voice strangely devoid of emotion. "Who fathered it? Tell me! There is more than just elven blood coursing through his veins, that much is painfully obvious," he said. "I know that face, Legolas. I have seen it before."
"Your grief makes you see a resemblance where none truly lies."
"Don't lie to me. Look into my face and tell me who the father is," he commanded, but Legolas stayed stubbornly silent. "Legolas," he whispered warningly, but still the elf made no move to answer him. They eyed each other coldly for what seemed like forever before the Man suddenly snapped. Grabbing a fistful of soft blonde hair, he jerked the elf's head up and jabbed a finger in his face. "Curse you Legolas, DON'T you deny me my own nephew."
Legolas glared at him so coldly that Faramir immediately released his grip. When the elf finally did speak, there was steel in his voice. "Faramir of Ithilien, Son of Denethor, I do not *deny* you anything. Be careful of what you accuse me of."
Faramir closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "My apologies. My passion overcomes me," he said with a small smile. "I intended not insult." He rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Then he isn't who I think he is, is he?" he asked, fully expecting to be reassured of the truth of the statement, but still Legolas was silent.
"Fine then," Faramir spat bitterly. "Keep your secrets. I couldn't care less," he said and walked out without another word.
________________________________________
________________________________________
Hihi. This is not the end. Two more chapters to go... well, approximately two. I don't know if I can fit everything into these two chapters tho I certainly intend to try! Haha. Btw, I emailed everyone their reply directly, unless I couldn't get their email addresses. Everyone else's should be here, but if I left anyone out, I'm so sorry! Pop by and tell me, will ya, cos that probably means my email screwed up somewhere. Thanks!
By the way, drop by and read farflung's reviw. It's a short re-write of chapter 6, done spoof-style in just a few lines. It's HILARIOUS! Go read it. I nearly fell off my chair laughing.
Tap Dancing Widow: Yes! I know! It's so amusing! Hehe. Oh, and the whole idea of this is to be able to go "poor, poor Legolas". hehe. Man, I just love doing that to him. Probably cos he looked so delightfully enchanting in the movies that my mind rebels against it and wants to put him through shit? Hmm... I dunno... and you should be happy. TWO updates at once. Hehe.
Mel: YaY! Thanks! Heheh, and that's one of my fav lines in the whole story so far! And I know what you mean. It *is* frightening, and all the more so for being all mysterious and all. I mean, there's the whole myth and *thing* surrounding it and you don't know how much is true and how much is not. I guess that's what gets me hooked on. I keep having this need to find out more and learn more and hear more about it. Its kinda like, you know, taking a roller coaster ride. It's a thrill you know you don't really want but you cant help being fascinated by it. (btw, I don't do roller coaster rides, but some people do. its just an analogy ANYWAY! Hehe) And that's actually what I wanted to focus on most in Life, that terrible insane gnawing *fear*.
Anonymous: haha. You should be very happy too. TWO updates at once. And I'm pretty smug with chapter 7... I think I pulled it off quite well, and it was pretty romantic... in a weird, spooky sorta way. Cute. And tho I *did* cut it off in the middle of the birth, I didn't make you wait long, so that's half a wish granted. Hehe. Sorry the reply's so short. I've got plently more to say, but it's 1am and I've got early morning classes tomorrow and I'm rushing to post it cos my computer's a bit screwed up and I don't know when's the next time it'll let me online! Email me! chopstickssg@yahoo.com. I'd love to get to know you better.
angelbird12241: thanks! And I'm continuing! Here. Two more chapters to go, more or less, before everything comes to an end.
Saint: no, no! not rude! I really was starting to have a problem with the enormous amount of reviews, and it was pretty exhausting to reply to them all at one go. Glad u mentioned it. Now at least I can reply directly, and I've started properly exchanging emails with a couple of them. It's fun. Thanks. So, what do you think now? Is Boromir the father? *evil grinzz* Or do you still think it might be someone else? *innocent smile, blink. Blink, blink, blink.* Elrond and Aragorn will 'react' next chapter.
Lobo Diablo: hehe. Remarkable sorry for him at the moment? How bout now? I don't think I was *that* hard on him, especially towards the end. I think I was positively *ahem* compassionate. Lets see, Talir? Does it mean anything in Elvish? Cos it sounds awfully like Tali, and in my native tongue that means 'string'. Hehe. String, son of Green Leaf. God, that family is majorly screwed when it comes to names. Hm, I don't think Talir would be good, I'd just imagine a stringy young lad who might snap anytime. Any other suggestions before the Naming next chapter?
Gatorade: hehe. Glad u liked it. All that pain and angst was getting to me and I wanted a bit of a laugh. The incident *was* supposed to be just a wee bit funny, just that I don't do comedy very well. =P
Anonymous: Hehe. Now you know what the rope's for. I actually read that stuff like that really happened in the medieval days. Interesting, huh? But pretty freaky, cos you're like locked in place and expected to stay there no matter how bloody unconfaortable it is, and to tell the truth, that's really not a natural birthing position, so I *would* imagine it must have been bloody uncomfortable for a lot of other women. And here, chapter 7 AND eight! Hope you like it!
Samwise the Brave: Cliffhanger? Oh, well, yeah, I guess. You know, when I read your first sentence I was bracing myself for a flamer, but haha, thanks for a wonderful review! And yes! I'm continuing! I'm continuing!
Harper's Pixie: Thanks for the tip! I'll definitely look it up. sounds good. *pokes fic suspiciously* Frodo? FRODO? Erm... *shuffles feet* hmm... I dunno... I kinda don't quite Frodo cos I think he's a pain in the behind, but then again, the way you described it sounds interesting... and man, if I survived Legolas/Gimli then I should be able so survive anything, right? (btw, I was reading L/G cos I needed examples of erm... uncomfortable pairings and that was the most uncomfortable I could think of at the time. Somehow or other, the thought of leggy frantic for Gimli turns my insides, but hey, if it's for the sake of improving your writing then I guess it's worth it!) haha. I certainly will check out Beyond All Towers. Thanks for the recommendation!
________________________________________
Warning: Male Pregnancy Fic. No making out, no kissing, nothing even vaguely explicit, but if the idea of male pregnancy grosses you out then for the love of god, go find another fic that won't offend your sensibilities. This is definitely not for you.
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.)
________________________________________
________________________________________
"Check him, Faramir," Eowyn said quietly, after a particularly intense contraction had passed. "Please."
"I can't. I don't know what to check him *for*."
"I don't know," she said, and Faramir thought he could detect a small tremor in her voice. "Just do it."
"No you do it."
"Faramir!" she cried, now making no effort to mask her distress. "I can't! Faramir, he's a HE! I'm a girl, Faramir! You can't make me do that. Don't make me do that. Don't make me do that, please. Oh Gods, Legolas..." she trailed off helplessly. "Please?"
Biting his lip nervously, Faramir knelt before the elf, and wincing, lifted Legolas' robe. What he saw left him pale and green. "Eowyn," he rasped. "This is wrong. This is wrong. This is so wrong." He closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "What *are* you?!?" he shuddered, and looked up at the elf in horror and revulsion "Dear gods, this is sick and wrong."
And Legolas could have hit him. In fact he was so furious that he almost did. Wasn't it bad enough that he was suffering here? What right had this *mortal* to judge! And to judge *him*. HIM! How dare he! If only he were in full control of his limbs, he knew beyond a doubt that Faramir would long have been reduced to a groaning pile on the floor. He would have the Man crawling out with his tail tucked between his knees. If... If... Legolas took a deep breath. If... if... if only. But his body was not in his possession any longer: it didn't follow his commands anymore. It took all of his energies to just concentrate on his labour. He could hardly even shift on the stool no matter how decidedly uncomfortable he was, let alone be master enough to beat the man to a pulp. The only thing he could do now was to grit his teeth and bear with it.
Did that mean that... he was... different? //Of course I'm different,\\ he spat bitterly. Otherwise he would never have gotten himself into this mess. All unbidden, a memory bubbled to the surface; a memory so startlingly vivid that Legolas could almost smell the wet earth beneath him, mingled with the strong bodily scent of his lover. He remembered the sound of his own breathing, shockingly loud to his ears amidst the swimming confusion of his other senses as the other plundered him that night, leaving him half paralysed with the weight of their combined passion.
And it had been surreal. Surreal, and Legolas had never experienced such an orgasmic intensity either before or after that incident. That must have been it then. That must have been the time where the child had been gifted to them. Somehow or other, by accident or otherwise he must have discovered Legolas'... but here even Legolas' mind turned away from the thought. Faramir was right. It did sound sick. The very idea of it was nauseating.
He choked back a mangled cry as the baby's head slid into the burning narrowness that was his birth canal. "Eowyn," he gasped in panic as he clung tightly to the length of rope. "Eowyn!"
"It's okay, Legolas," she cried, running up and taking him in her arms. "It's alright. I'm here. I'm here. It's okay," she said, rubbing his back. She continued to croon and soothe him as best as she could, and Legolas was heartily grateful for her human touch. "It's okay," she whispered, and the sincerity of her words pierced through the fog of his thoughts more potently than the blade of Anduril. It was about the only thing from the physical world that reached him, that registered in his mind. The rest of his being were thoroughly centred on the birth.
Faramir goggled. "Eowyn..." he called out warningly. "Eowyn, the baby... Eowyn.. EOWYN!"
"Oh, for goodness sake, if the baby's coming that support it!" she cried out in frustration. "Do *you* want to stand here and mind him? No? THEN CATCH!"
"But I'll drop it! I'll drop it! Dear god, it's blue! Eowyn, I'll drop the damn thing!"
"That's what the blanket's for. Use the blanket. Blankets are good things."
"Then I'll drop the blanket!"
"Don't be silly."
"I'M NOT BEING SILLY!"
It was about there that Eowyn gave up and turned her attention back to Legolas, hoping that if she left him alone for a bit, Faramir would pluck up the courage on his own. She had never been more right in her life, and after a few seconds of traumatised whining, Faramir settled down with a determined expression on his face, and Eowyn breathed a small sigh of relief.
"This was Boromir's room," she said quietly. "I know you can still feel him, Faramir. His presence here is strong. Boromir was a strong man. Let us all draw our strength from it."
//Boromir's room?\\ The words hit Legolas like a rock. He opened his other senses, and realised that what Eowyn had said was true. The presence was still there. How could he not have noticed it? He took a deep breath, drawing the Man's essence into his lungs and closed his eyes. He could feel Boromir here beside him.
//Boromir, lend me your strength,\\ he thought as he braced himself for the birth of his child. //Lend me your strength.\\
He felt the presence shift, and grow warm with an energy that engulfed him, and suddenly he found that he was surrounded by it, a calm steady aura that permeated his skin and entered his body, giving him the strength and will that he so desperately desired...
And then it was over, and Legolas felt himself go limp as a rag doll. And oh so slowly, like a lens swimming into focus, the mists around him thinned, and with the thinning grew the dim awareness of his being moved somewhere, to a bed or a mattress most likely. And only then did the strangled wail of a newborn register in his consciousness.
His newborn.
Relief swept over him, but was quickly replaced by another emotion: love... or was it regret? ... or a mixture of the two, most like. Love for the child, and for it's father, but a deep seated grief that the two would never have the chance to know each other...
"He's beautiful, Legolas," Eowyn whispered as she handed him the child, already cleaned and wrapped in a fresh blanket, and was shocked to see the tears that bathed the Elf's lovely cheeks. "What's the matter?" she asked, concerned.
"What am I going to do?" Legolas whimpered, cradling the child as it were the most precious thing on Midde Earth. "I feel awful. I don't know what to do. He deserves so much more... so much I cant give him... I was so *stupid*. I didn't know... didn't realise..." he whispered as he gazed wretchedly at the tiny face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me," he said to the infant. "You deserve so much more..."
Faramir and Eowyn exchanged significant glances. After a time, she rose and excused herself, leaving the two men alone.
"Who's child is it, Legolas?" Faramir said softly, his voice strangely devoid of emotion. "Who fathered it? Tell me! There is more than just elven blood coursing through his veins, that much is painfully obvious," he said. "I know that face, Legolas. I have seen it before."
"Your grief makes you see a resemblance where none truly lies."
"Don't lie to me. Look into my face and tell me who the father is," he commanded, but Legolas stayed stubbornly silent. "Legolas," he whispered warningly, but still the elf made no move to answer him. They eyed each other coldly for what seemed like forever before the Man suddenly snapped. Grabbing a fistful of soft blonde hair, he jerked the elf's head up and jabbed a finger in his face. "Curse you Legolas, DON'T you deny me my own nephew."
Legolas glared at him so coldly that Faramir immediately released his grip. When the elf finally did speak, there was steel in his voice. "Faramir of Ithilien, Son of Denethor, I do not *deny* you anything. Be careful of what you accuse me of."
Faramir closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "My apologies. My passion overcomes me," he said with a small smile. "I intended not insult." He rubbed his face and sighed heavily. "Then he isn't who I think he is, is he?" he asked, fully expecting to be reassured of the truth of the statement, but still Legolas was silent.
"Fine then," Faramir spat bitterly. "Keep your secrets. I couldn't care less," he said and walked out without another word.
________________________________________
________________________________________
Hihi. This is not the end. Two more chapters to go... well, approximately two. I don't know if I can fit everything into these two chapters tho I certainly intend to try! Haha. Btw, I emailed everyone their reply directly, unless I couldn't get their email addresses. Everyone else's should be here, but if I left anyone out, I'm so sorry! Pop by and tell me, will ya, cos that probably means my email screwed up somewhere. Thanks!
By the way, drop by and read farflung's reviw. It's a short re-write of chapter 6, done spoof-style in just a few lines. It's HILARIOUS! Go read it. I nearly fell off my chair laughing.
Tap Dancing Widow: Yes! I know! It's so amusing! Hehe. Oh, and the whole idea of this is to be able to go "poor, poor Legolas". hehe. Man, I just love doing that to him. Probably cos he looked so delightfully enchanting in the movies that my mind rebels against it and wants to put him through shit? Hmm... I dunno... and you should be happy. TWO updates at once. Hehe.
Mel: YaY! Thanks! Heheh, and that's one of my fav lines in the whole story so far! And I know what you mean. It *is* frightening, and all the more so for being all mysterious and all. I mean, there's the whole myth and *thing* surrounding it and you don't know how much is true and how much is not. I guess that's what gets me hooked on. I keep having this need to find out more and learn more and hear more about it. Its kinda like, you know, taking a roller coaster ride. It's a thrill you know you don't really want but you cant help being fascinated by it. (btw, I don't do roller coaster rides, but some people do. its just an analogy ANYWAY! Hehe) And that's actually what I wanted to focus on most in Life, that terrible insane gnawing *fear*.
Anonymous: haha. You should be very happy too. TWO updates at once. And I'm pretty smug with chapter 7... I think I pulled it off quite well, and it was pretty romantic... in a weird, spooky sorta way. Cute. And tho I *did* cut it off in the middle of the birth, I didn't make you wait long, so that's half a wish granted. Hehe. Sorry the reply's so short. I've got plently more to say, but it's 1am and I've got early morning classes tomorrow and I'm rushing to post it cos my computer's a bit screwed up and I don't know when's the next time it'll let me online! Email me! chopstickssg@yahoo.com. I'd love to get to know you better.
angelbird12241: thanks! And I'm continuing! Here. Two more chapters to go, more or less, before everything comes to an end.
Saint: no, no! not rude! I really was starting to have a problem with the enormous amount of reviews, and it was pretty exhausting to reply to them all at one go. Glad u mentioned it. Now at least I can reply directly, and I've started properly exchanging emails with a couple of them. It's fun. Thanks. So, what do you think now? Is Boromir the father? *evil grinzz* Or do you still think it might be someone else? *innocent smile, blink. Blink, blink, blink.* Elrond and Aragorn will 'react' next chapter.
Lobo Diablo: hehe. Remarkable sorry for him at the moment? How bout now? I don't think I was *that* hard on him, especially towards the end. I think I was positively *ahem* compassionate. Lets see, Talir? Does it mean anything in Elvish? Cos it sounds awfully like Tali, and in my native tongue that means 'string'. Hehe. String, son of Green Leaf. God, that family is majorly screwed when it comes to names. Hm, I don't think Talir would be good, I'd just imagine a stringy young lad who might snap anytime. Any other suggestions before the Naming next chapter?
Gatorade: hehe. Glad u liked it. All that pain and angst was getting to me and I wanted a bit of a laugh. The incident *was* supposed to be just a wee bit funny, just that I don't do comedy very well. =P
Anonymous: Hehe. Now you know what the rope's for. I actually read that stuff like that really happened in the medieval days. Interesting, huh? But pretty freaky, cos you're like locked in place and expected to stay there no matter how bloody unconfaortable it is, and to tell the truth, that's really not a natural birthing position, so I *would* imagine it must have been bloody uncomfortable for a lot of other women. And here, chapter 7 AND eight! Hope you like it!
Samwise the Brave: Cliffhanger? Oh, well, yeah, I guess. You know, when I read your first sentence I was bracing myself for a flamer, but haha, thanks for a wonderful review! And yes! I'm continuing! I'm continuing!
Harper's Pixie: Thanks for the tip! I'll definitely look it up. sounds good. *pokes fic suspiciously* Frodo? FRODO? Erm... *shuffles feet* hmm... I dunno... I kinda don't quite Frodo cos I think he's a pain in the behind, but then again, the way you described it sounds interesting... and man, if I survived Legolas/Gimli then I should be able so survive anything, right? (btw, I was reading L/G cos I needed examples of erm... uncomfortable pairings and that was the most uncomfortable I could think of at the time. Somehow or other, the thought of leggy frantic for Gimli turns my insides, but hey, if it's for the sake of improving your writing then I guess it's worth it!) haha. I certainly will check out Beyond All Towers. Thanks for the recommendation!