The large bed, in the room at Bree, felt absolutely wonderful after riding in the wagon all day. Sam sunk thankfully into the over-sized feather pillows. Today had been worse than the trip to Crickhollow. His very bones still felt as though they were being bounced about mercilessly, and the babe within him, had become very active. Sam wondered if he would ever be able to sleep that night.
"Sam-dear?"
"Yes, love?" he responded sleepily.
"Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable? You you've only to ask, I know today's journey was hard on you." Frodo spoke softy as he climbed onto the bed beside Sam.
"I'm not sure there is anything anyone can do, Frodo-dear. The babe must be restless, if you follow me." Sam said, shifting his position once more in a futile search for comfort.
Frodo smiled and moved closer to Sam. His slender fingers come to rest on Sam's rounded belly. Closing his eyes, as if concentrating intently on something, Frodo started tracing a soft pattern over the taut skin. At Frodo's touch, very soft moan escaped Sam's lips, and he too, closed his eyes.
Frodo's expert fingers seemed to know just where to move to cause relief. Sam could already feel the babe's movements slow. Frodo smiled noticing this too, and bent to lay a soft kiss upon the hard mound. He could hear Sam's breath beginning to slow as sleep began to wash over him. Frodo closed his eyes once more, and resumed tracing small circles on Sam's belly.
The older hobbit sighed softly, before beginning to sing a very lovely elvish lullaby he had learned from Bilbo in his youth. He heard Sam release a last sigh of finality as sleep finally won him over. Another smile played across Frodo's soft lips, before he lowered his head to rest upon Sam's large belly.
"Hush now, little one. Your mother needs all the rest he can get. I know you're restless after a long day of travel, and you must feel rather cramped in there." Frodo kept drawing little circles by his face. "I know you are anxious to come into the world and meet your parents. Believe me, we are anxious to meet you, as well. But, little one, I beg of you, my child, please wait until we reach Rivendell!" He felt silent tears roll down his cheeks as he raised his eyes to the peacefully sleeping face of his lover, as he continued. "I could not bare it if I lost you, my love." His attention returned to the swollen belly. "Either of you." Frodo said sleepily before yawning and giving in to a thankfully dreamless slumber.
Sam awoke in the very early hours of the morning. It was still dark outside this window, and there was raucous laughter coming from the gathering room. Despite the hour, whoever was still there, was enjoying themselves.
Blinking the last feelings of sleep from his eyes, Sam smiled to see Frodo curled at his side. His lover's arm wrapped protectively about Sam's large mid-section. Careful not to wake Frodo, he slowly slid from under the protective arm. Sam pulled on his breeches, and shrugged into his weskit, not bothering with the buttons. Once done, he very quietly slipped from the room.
Moving as quietly as he could, down the hallway. The last thing he wanted was to encounter a drunken resident of Bree while in his current state. He only wished to use the privy before returning to the comfort of bed and Frodo's arms. Resting his hand absently on his belly, Sam sped up his pace, and reached the privy thankfully without meeting anyone else.
Sam left the haven of the small room, a short time later, planning to make his way back to his room. His path was suddenly cut off when a tall youth stepped out from the darkness in front of him. Sam thought of retreating when he heard the snickering of two others behind him. He was trapped, and in no condition to fight.
"Looky what we gots here, boys! It's one of them little halfling rats!" the man in front of Sam sneered.
"They're fun to play with, Rowlie, this we might have some fun with him?" asked one of the voices from behind Sam.
"I think we might." Rowlie replied with a sinister look in his eyes.
Sam willed himself to stop shaking, and wrapped his arms instinctively about his belly. He could feel the all too familiar feeling of fear was over him. Why should you fear these me, Samwise Gamgee? If you could face all the orcs of Mordor, why should you fear three men? Sam thought, before he remembered that he'd left his room unarmed. Just then, the baby decided to roll over within him, causing Sam's belly to ripple in an odd manor, through his shirt. He cursed himself for not buttoning his weskit, which would have hidden his condition a little better. A look of horror passed over Rowlie's face, which was soon replaced with disgust.
"Willie, hold him still! Tom! Ya gotta see this! His belly, it moved!" Rowlie exclaimed, while the other two obeyed. Sam felt strong hands grip his arms; Willie was easily twice Sam's size. There was no use fighting.
Sam flinched when the one named Tom poked his belly impatiently.
"Nothin's happenin'!" Tom whined.
"Unhand me, now!" Sam protested furiously, which only earned him a slap across his cheek that left his ears ringing.
"You'll talk when spoken to, halfling scum!" Rowlie spat, with hatred visible in his eyes.
Sam could taste blood in his mouth, and the adrenaline rush was causing him to feel rather nauseous. He half hoped that one of them would be close enough to be covered when he felt the urge to retch.
The next few minutes passed in a haze of hated exchanges between Sam's three captors. They were still trying to figure out exactly what kind of 'fun' to have with him, and what exactly it had been that caused his stomach to move like that. Sam used the time to try to think of a way to escape. He knew he had to protect his child, and wasn't sure what the three men might do when they realized that he was in fact pregnant. Hurried thoughts ran through his head, and kept him from hearing Rowlie when he asked something. Sam was brought back to reality with another fist connecting with his cheekbone.
"What!!!" He sobbed, not remembering when he had started crying, and hating himself for showing that kind of weakness right now. All Sam wanted was to be able to return to Frodo, to be comforted, and fall back to sleep.
"I asked you what caused it, filth! NOW ANSWER!" Rowlie seethed dangerously.
"T'is nothing…." Sam lied, the small effort bringing nothing but more pain as he was forced to his knees. Rowlie grabbed a handful of his golden curls and forced his head up to look at him.
"I'll show you nothing, you little pig." He slapped Sam once more. "If you don't tell us, we'll really give you something to cry about!"
"I'm pregnant." Sam stated in a tiny voice. When had his voice become so meek?
"Pregnant?" The three of them laughed. "A pregnant male? Well there's a surprise, and no mistake!"
"Maybe we should have our fun before we cut him open and see how 'is innards word?" Willie suggested, as he pulled out a large knife, and placed it beneath Sam's chin causing a faint red line to form there.
Sam was sobbing now, and found that he didn't care. He was terrified, and he couldn't see a way out of this for himself or the child. Thoughts racing through his head. He would never meet his child. He would never see Frodo again. He was going to die in this darkened hallway in Bree, and no one would know until morning.
He gave one last pleading look to his captors before he sagged back from the knife and retched all over the floor before losing consciousness.
"Sam? Sam? Come on, please wake up! Come back to me, love."
He could hear Frodo's familiar voice, but he knew it was his imagination. He was still kneeling in that darkened hallway, full of fear, and pain. Captured.
"Sam-dear, wake up!" Frodo's voice was pleading again. Was it his imagination?
Sam slowly began to register the feelings around him. He wasn't on his knees anymore, and in fact was laying on something soft and forgiving. There was a pillow beneath his head, and some under his feet also. There was warm sunlight shining on him.
It was morning. It was morning, and he'd survived!
"Frodo … the baby?!?" he moaned through a throat hoarsely dry.
"The baby's fine, love. I had a healer come to check you when you were found. I'm so sorry, Sam-dear! I should have been there!"
Sam accepted the offered water, gratefully. "No, wasn't your fault, Frodo. I had to use the privy; I should've used the chamber pot. I just wanted the walk, is all."
"The important thing is that you're alright! I was so worried about you, love." Frodo smiled at him warmly and placed a gentle kiss upon his brow. "Rest now. We'll spend one more night, and let you recover from this … incident, and then we shall leave for Rivendell once more."
"Thank-you." Sam said sleepily, and turned into his pillow and drifted off into slumber once more.