I learn how babies are made and insult my friends for growing up

I took a longer path through the Shire, away from Bag End and from the pasture. I walked underneath a canopy of trees and between the bushes that dotted the landscape. It was the only stretch of path that didn't open up into flat farmland where you saw nothing but the bustling of the Shirefolk. It was here, in these woods, that I could get the privacy and solace that I so desperately scrounged for every day. Life in the Shire was a bustle of activity and I don't believe any hobbit has ever found the desire to just sit and think deeply about things. More often than not, though hobbits are peace-loving folk, the peace they so desire comes from a long day of gardening, and retiring to some pub to relax with other lads and lasses over a mug of ale.

It is not like a hobbit to be alone. Most families are large and there are always things to be done. I knew that firsthand from living with Rosie and her siblings first, then her children. I didn't mind helping, but it was always a relief to get out of scrubbing pots and rocking and feeding restless babies off to nap, while Rosie collapsed into a chair and Sam worked in the garden. The toddlers cried and fought with each other, or pulled at my skirt and wanted to play. Rosie would be trying to juggle her babies, some still suckling, as well as stick a bottle in one of them, who would promptly spit up on her gown, just in time for another little one to wake up in his crib and cry for someone to get him. And here she was again, pregnant, trying to do everything as well as take care to protect the little one growing inside her.

I tried to make some excuse to be unavailable to help Rosie birth her babies. Once was enough for me. It seemed like an eternity before Rosie was back to her calm demeanor; all during the birthing I was terrified that she'd lost her mind amongst the mindless screaming and thrashing. There was so much blood. I wasn't one to shy away from blood like most lasses, but I found myself in a fog, unable to do much but watch in horror.

This was how I imagined that Pippin, Merry, and I would one day be treated when the enemy of the Fellowship finally caught up with us. I imagined that Rosie was me, in Isengard, or some other dark tower, being tortured for information, while strangers stood over and watched. But if I told that to Rosie, or the midwife, or any of the other girls who cooed and wiped Rosie's forehead, I would be snapped at and told I was silly, that I should make myself useful.

Walking along the path, I kicked a little stone. I had already been cornered unexpectedly by Rosie a couple years ago, and while she balanced a baby on her hip she demanded to know what I knew of men and babies. I stammered during this conversation, since I hadn't learned anything at all except that women and men were not to mix, particularly not at dark, and not alone, because we were different and had privacies.

"Most girls your age will be betrothed soon," Rosie declared. "You ought to know what secrets we women keep from young girls until it is time you understood your duty as a wife. Once you are married, your priorities are no longer for your well being, but for your husband, and you will do everything you can to keep him comfortable and happy. Part of this is housewifery and other such duties, but the other half is bearing his children."

I peered up at Rosie from underneath my eyelashes. She was so direct with me, so blunt. Here was my purpose in life, at last: hopes and dreams shattered. I was to do nothing but wait hand and foot like a servant, while my husband was free to do what he pleased, and then come home to me and…what? Do whatever it was that made babies. Well, lucky for me, Rosie was there to explain.

"Don't blush, so, Adamanta," she snapped. "It's immature."

And thus it was laid before me, what I must endure as my "duty" to my husband: to part my legs and endure whatever pain I must to ensure his pleasure, and then still to carry a baby for nine months, while I knew what lie ahead at the end of that road… but even then, my duty was to my husband, not myself.

I cringed while Rosie explained it to me, in bawd detail.

"You'd have to be a fool to allow any man to do that to you," I announced, thinking of the shame and pain I would have to feel, lying beneath a man while he entered me, and I was to do nothing but lie still and wait for it to be over…

"Adamanta! Every woman and wife in the history of this world has endured it." Rosie was blushing now, as she avoided talking about her experiences.

"You, at least, are in love," I said stubbornly. "I may not have that choice."

"It's what we must do," she said with a shrug. "You're a woman. You'll get used to it."

"I don't want to get used to it," I said. "Anything that is done to my body, I will ensure I have a say in it."

As I turned to stalk away and was blazing all over with frustration, Rosie called out to me.

"With the pain of making love, Adamanta, you will learn there is also the greatest pleasure you will ever know."

"Yeah… sure…" I muttered under my breath, before whisking out my journal and planning to ask questions of Merry and Pippin, to see what they knew of the art of making love.

.:*:.

When I asked, Merry laughed so hard he couldn't breathe and Pippin spit out his pipe, blushing furiously.

"What, lads?" I said, glaring at them. "It's not funny."

"It's funny because you're so confused!" Merry giggled.

"Well…shouldn't I be?" I looked from Merry to Pippin, who was fighting to stay composed.

"Mandy, we're adults now. So…I'm surprised you haven't been educated in the art of bodily exposure!"

"Merry!"

"Well, it's true, isn't it? It's time to settle down and find your bonny lad and sneak off into the heather for some quality time kissing, giggling and romping."

"Merry…"

"Don't tell me—Mandy, that you, that you—" at this point, Merry burst off into a new fireworks display of giggles. "That you don't want a fine young hobbit gentleman to touch your braids and whisper in your ear during a party that you are the most lovely creature he has ever seen, and that he has been eyeing you for years, and that all he wants to do most of all in the world is for you to take his hand and pledge to be his, and his alone…"

"Merry, that's not going to happen," I said, blushing furiously.

"…and he will flutter his eyelashes at you and devilishly undo your braids to stroke your curls, steal kisses in the night from your smooth, creamy skin, touching you in just a way so you'll beg him never to stop, forget your virtue, and he'll comment that he desires you so that he'll forget about the nonsense with the Lord and the Ring and your part in all of that if only you'll relieve him of his heartache by lifting your skirt just a little higher!"

"Sounds like you know everything," I snorted. "Tell me, Merry, have you been gallivanting in just the way you've described?"
Merry's face instantly hardened. "I will never breathe a word to you about it," he said, poking me sharply in the chest bone. "And if you're wise, you'll never breathe a word about it either."

"How about you, Pippin?" I said harshly. "Got a lady friend you'd like to pluck? Or have you already taken it upon yourself to abandon every honor the world has given us in exchange for a little sweat and some sticky stuff out of your little twig?"

Pippin blushed, glaring at me. "Go eat rotten mushrooms, Mandy," he said. "No—on second thought, why don't you fall onto your own sword? Being rude as you are. It'll be the only sticking you'll ever get!"

"It's the only sticking I want!" I said haughtily. "At least it'll earn me a thousand years or more of honor, rather than a few moments of pleasure!"

"Oh that's our darling dearest lady Mandy," Merry cooed cruelly. "She gets her pleasure from imagining herself tied up in Barad-Dûr or Isengard!"

I blanched. "That's—that's—Merry, you better shut your mouth right away."

"Why? Can't take some of your own medicine? Why don't you enjoy your time daydreaming about being tortured while Pippin and I grow into sensible adults."

I lifted my chin.

"And why don't you try wearing dresses for once?" Merry shot back, saluted me, and then pushed Pippin with him into the woods. "I liked you better feminine."