The tears where hot and bitter as they streamed down her face, over her lips, to fall steadily from her quivering chin. Another babe born that was not hers. Another joyous birth that brought her only pain and sadness. How could this torment be born, how could she face another friend, another relative, without the desire to rip the small one from their arms and fleeing. So immersed in her agony, she was unaware of the approach of her husband. She did not see the agony and unshed tears in his own eyes, did not feel the ache of his heart as he watched her. He knew her great desire for a child for it was a desire that ate at his heart and soul also and he could not understand why this gift was denied them. He turned away to leave her to her grief knowing he had no words to comfort her.
"Cousin, I fear for her very sanity. I don't know how to even comfort her any more," said Drogo as he ran both hands through his hair in dispair.
Bilbo placed a mug of tea in front of Drogo resisting the urge to envelope him in a hug. He knew Drogo would reject any resemblance of pity. The idea he had been playing with for several months came to him again. Now he only needed to figure out a way to present it to Drogo without him outright rejecting it. "Drogo, ... I know you have gone to many healers who have given you no hope, however, there is one that I know of that may be able to help ....."
Drogo violently shook his head, "No, no more healers, I can no longer stomach their false promises. We have downed more teas, herbs and unknow powders than I care to recall. I have sworn to not darken any healer's doorstep again. I cannot bear to see the crushing depair in her eyes when another "cure" fails."
"Wait," Bilbo raised his hand in an effort to quiet the distressed hobbit, "this healer is different. He will not give false hope if there is none. His experience with injuries and illnesses span centuries. I know of no other being in all Middle Earth as learned as he. His medicinal library is the most expansive one known. What he does not know is not known by any other. I only ask that you try this one last time. Mayhap if he is unable to help you, he will know of a way to ease Prim's heartache. That alone is worth a try do you not think?"
Drogo's eyes widened as Bilbo talked, "Spans centuries... what kind of being is this healer? Surely you do not speak of one of your elves. You know I cannot leave the Shire for the length of time it would be necessary to travel to an elven realm. I am not the adventurous sort such as yourself. "
"Please Drogo, I am not asking you to go on an adventure and it would only be to Bree. You have gone there several times in the past to market your sheep. You could use that as an excuse this time and ask Prim to join you. I am sure I can convince Lord Elrond to meet with us there."
Stunned, Drogo stared at Bilbo, his mind whirling. The thought of an elf healer, not to mention one who was also a Lord, deeming his problem serious enough to travel to Bree was more that he was able to comprehend. He then envisioned the hopelessness of his dearly loved wife and knew he would try one last time. If not for himself than for Prim. Slowly he nodded his head and with a heavy sigh agreed to the plan. Now it was up to Bilbo to convince this elf Lord to meet with him in Bree.
Bilbo sat on his chair and silently studied the tall being standing at the window. He knew the news was not good and Elrond was only trying to think how to break it to him. He closed his eyes against the pain that blossomed in his heart. This had been their last hope. Prim would be devastated and he did not know how she would survive this. For over a year now, each new birth lessened the sparkle in her eyes, her hair was dull and brittle, she no longer laughed and rarely left her home. Drogo's heartach and sadness weighed on his shoulders and he walked like an old hobbit nearing the end of life. Only their love for each other anchored them still to this world.
Elrond turned from the window and seeing the pain on Bilbo's face knelt down so he could look directly at the hobbit. He reached out and gently took one of Bilbo's hands which caused his eyes to open and see the compassion in Elrond's.
"There is one thing I can try. I cannot guarantee the results and do not hold out much hope that it will work. IF Prim should conceive, and note I do hold out any guarantee, she would have to be confined to her bed for the duration of her pregnancy and even then I cannot be certain she would carry the child to term. It would not be her fault for her body is strong and healthy, but the child's may not be. Should the pregnancy come to term it is even likely the child would not survive the trauma of birth. As you can see, there will be dangers at each stage. I will let you decide if this is an option I should give them. If so, they both must fully understand what could happen before I would try the treatment and know that this would be the only time I will make the attempt, whether the pregnancy is successful or not."
Bilbo nodded, rose from his chair and silently left the room. This was a decision that could not be lightly made and he would have to give it long and careful thought. To give them hope that was full of danger and uncertainty or to deliver the final blow that killed all hope...forever. He knew there would be no sleep for him this night.
Elrond returned to the window and was so deep in thought he was unaware of the entrance of another until a hand was lightly placed on his shoulder. Turning, he looked at the face of another elf , concern clearly readable in the eyes of his youngest son.
"Ada, should the question not be 'if you are willing to take this step' and not they? Why do you have this compulsion to aid them but yet seem hesitant? What is so important about these beings in particular that made you leave Rivendell and to travel to Bree to help them?"
Elrond turned from his son's eyes and again returned to the window. "I can feel a change coming, especially for the fate of all elves. Somehow these two small beings are tied to us and our fate. I feel uneasy at bringing forth this child. While I cannot see their future with any clarity, I fear there will be much sorrow and pain for the little one. Knowing this troubles my heart and whether for good or not I cannot tell, only that there is some kind of need for this that I cannot ignore."
Drogo paced outside the birthing room, his hands clinched and his entire body flinched every time he heard his wife cry out. The past eight months had been long, but for every day that Prim was able to hold the child within her brought more joy. Prim blossomed like a delicate flower, laughter returned to the home, and they savored each day as it came, neither wanting to look too far into the future. Bilbo came often and would sit with Drogo long into the night after Prim had fallen asleep. The conversation rarely turned to the yet unborn child, Drogo reluctant to say outloud his inner thoughts, fearing any long term plans would turn the gods against them.
Lord Elrond had set up regular communication with the pair through some of the rangers that guarded the Shire border. The elf wished to be informed of any and all changes and gave what advise he could over the distance. Drogo felt as if the elf Lord himself felt some kind of connection with the child and was anxious for the results of his treatment.
Two nights ago Prim felt the beginnings of gentle contractions, a month too early, and the local midwife was summoned. She was given teas and gently excercised in an effort to stem the contractions but they continued to grow in strength and came more often during the next day. The midwife simply shook her head and told them she had done all she could. The child would be born and they must prepare themselves. As dusk fell, there was a knock on the door and Drogo was suprised to see not only his cousin Bilbo, but the tall elf Lord and his son. Elrond asked if they could attend the birth and the midwife reluctantly left her charge in his care. He assured her that they would do everything within their power to ensure that both Prim and the child survived.
Soon after the two entered the birthing room, Drogo could hear gentle singing coming from the room. While he could not understand the words, and though it did not disapate entirely, he felt an easing of the fear that had a strangle hold on his heart. A sweet aroma filled the small home and his body relaxed a little more. At least now he was capable of coherent thought and he and Bilbo comforted each other as the night continued on to become dawn.
Suddenly a long and shrill cry reverberated throughout the home and Drogo felt the fear return full force. He stopped his pacing and faced the door as if through sheer willpower he would be able to see beyond it to his beloved wife. He could no longer take this and had reached for the door knob when another cry was heard. This one was not so loud and sounded weak and high pitched. Drogo knew he had heard the first sound from his newly born child. Tears streamed from his eyes as he thanked the gods that the child had been born alive. He could also tell from the sound that only time would tell if the child was well.
Bilbo gently held him around his shoulders and whispered into his ear, " Give them time my dear cousin, they will let us know when we can enter." He was led gently towards a chair where Bilbo held and stroked his hands, trying to bring some comfort to him.
Elrohir held the small babe that could almost fit into one hand. He had never witnessed the birth of a child so small and delicate. As he hefted it in his hand he determined that it weighed less than an eighth of a stone (1.75 lbs). Of course that was somewhat caused by its early birth. It had a full head of black curly hair and fuzz on feet that looked entirely too large for its body. He could see blue veins like silk threads through its translucent skin. He gave a small smile as he noted that the child was a male.
He looked to his father who was cleaning the blood and gore from Prim, "Wrap him warmly and give him to his mother. He should suckle as soon as possible. After I have finished here, you may let the father in."
Drogo could only stare in awe at his wife and the bundle she held to her breast. It had been a week since his birth and he grew stronger each day. They had finally decided that it was safe enough to give him a name, that he was here to stay. After consulting with Bilbo, the proud parents whispered the name in his delicately pointed ear, "Frodo...Frodo Baggins, son of Drogo."
Elrohir had left soon after the birth but Elrond lingered on. He wanted to ensure that the child would thrive and no unforseen complications would occur. Finally after two weeks he notifed the parents that he would be returning to his home.
Drogo accompanied the elf to the border of the Shire. As Elrond turned to say his goodbyes, Drogo touched his hand and looked up into the tranquil face of the elf.
"I do not know how to repay you for this kindness. You have not only given me a son but you have brought peace and joy to my wife. We will forever be in you debt."
Elrond lightly ran his hand across the hobbits head and gently smiled at him. However, Drogo could sense a small measure of sadness as Elrond replied, "I assure you master hobbit, this debt will be repaid more than fully. I only ask that you treasure and hold close to your hearts this child of yours. My heart tells me that one day he will do couragous feats and be loved by many." With that cryptic message, the elf Lord turned and left the Shire.
fini........