The Secret
Disclaimer: NO, the characters are not mine, NO, I'm not making any money, NO I'm not insane- or at least I don't think so. heehee ;O)
Sam had a secret. He was well aware of the fact that this secret had to be well hidden, and for the time being it was. He carried it under his heart, knowing that the day had to come when it had to be revealed. But not now, not for a long time yet. He was himself to blame for the condition he had got himself into; he was to blame for acting before thinking, listening to his heart instead of his head. And that made him feel truly alone.
He and Frodo had found their love almost a year earlier, and their secret happiness decorated them both with a beautiful glow of love. No one knew, of course, but them. The Shire wasn't a place for such unnatural things to occur. A lad should be with a lass, that was final, the Gaffer had told him over and over again in his tweens as Sam had always seemed a little too fond of his master?s nephew, Frodo. Over the years Sam got better at hiding his deepest, darkest affections for his master, and the Gaffer felt convinced his son would settle down with sweet Rosie Cotton one day. Little did he know that Sam and Frodo had been lovers for nearly a year now.
They were truly happy in each others presence and the fact that they felt like soul mates made all so much more difficult to bare, as both of them didn't feel ashamed of their love. How could something this pure and sweet be wrong? But Frodo, as the oldest and wisest knew that their relationship had to be known only by them. He didn't care much about his own reputation as he was stapled "queer" by most hobbits. But he didn't want to let Sam get draught down in the mud with him!
So they lived their lives as usual, Sam was Frodo's gardener and acted thereas as long as anyone could catch a glimpse of them. But behind closed doors, or in secret meetings up in the hills after dark, Sam and Frodo were two lovers clutched in an eternal embrace.
One of these nights they had settled under a big beautiful oak and Sam discovered for the first time a sadness in his lover's eyes.
"Frodo... dear, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," Frodo answered, but his eyes revealed the truth. Sam moved closer to the older hobbit and embraced him lightly.
"Come on now Mr. Frodo, I can tell there is something bothering you"
Frodo sighed. He wasn't sure of how he was going to tell Sam this. Sam was 34 and had just come of age last year. The thoughts that were troubling Frodo's mind might just as well scare him off as disgust him.
"Sam..." he began, but didn't know how to finish or even continue the sentence.
"Yes?" Sam urged and his big brown eyes widened with curiosity. Frodo shook his head.
"You're too young Sam, I don't think you would understand the desire and longing that has filled my mind the past weeks"
Sam didn't quite know how to respond to this, but he felt a bit angry and even despaired.
"Too young?" he said hoarsely and didn't realize the tears that welled up in his eyes. "I love you and could never leave you, but you must tell me what troubles you or else I'm not much of a help!" He let go of Frodo and arched away from him, hiding his eyes. He didn't want his master to see him crying.
"Sam?" Frodo felt despair as Sam let go of him and turned his face away. He took a deep breath. "All right. I'll tell you what's on my mind. But you have to know that I intentionally didn't want to burden you with this." Sam faced him again, and dried his tears. No matter what his master told him he would understand, he told himself and concentrated hard.
Frodo sighed. "Well it goes like this: The last year has been the happiest in my life, but still...." he hesitated for a moment as he felt a shudder go through his body; "still I feel like there's something missing.." He could feel Sam's uncertainty about these last words and continued; "I love you so much, Sam, but with that I wish we could have what everyone else has." Sam's eyes widened.
"But we DO have all that, don't we? Yes, we have to be secret about it, but still we are happy, aren't we?" Sam bit his lip, Frodo was right, he didn't seem able to understand his master?s worries.
Frodo looked up for a moment, and with a sad smile tried to convince Sam he had all what his heart desired. But the truth was- he longed for just one more thing to make his life complete.
"I want to be a father," he said quietly and lowered his head as in shame. "We all, Sam, expect the chance of one day becoming parents." Sam looked like any movement would make him tilt over and tumble down the hill. His eyes were big as dinner plates.
"Uhmm..." was all that left his mouth in his surprise. This one he DIDN'T see coming. And thoughts came rushing over him, feelings, visions of him and Frodo playing with a little toddler- hobbit with big dimples and an endless grin on its face. And Sam knew he couldn't deny Frodo that. He knew also that this was something he too wanted. He'd always loved kids, and he were good with them too- undoubtedly the reason he was left in charge of his older siblings' children whenever they needed a babysitter. And then the cruel reality came crashing down round his ears and smacked him back to reality. They were lads, they could not conceive a child.
"Oh..." he then said and felt utterly stupid as he seemed to have forgotten his vocabulary. Frodo looked like he was regretting telling him.
"I'm sorry Sam, I shouldn't have..."
"NO!" Sam said and urgently turned towards him, his big eyes fixated on Frodo's blue gaze. "I understand, and I feel the same way!" Then his voice went sad: "And I wish there was anything we could do with it..."
"But there isn't," the older and wiser hobbit said and lay his arm around Sam's shoulder; "We'll just make the best of what we already have and that, my love, is much more than any of us can really ask."
*************************
They parted in silence. Sam had too many thoughts in his mind to head back to 3 Bagshot Row yet, so he wandered off into the woods, lost in his thoughts. Just before sunrise he found himself sitting by a small brook that meandered through the forest with fearless splashes. *If there was anything,* he thought to himself as he tossed a pebble so it hit the water. Then he suddenly became aware of the sound of approaching footsteps behind him, light and swift, inaudible for a human ear, but to the hobbit it sounded like the approach of a light-footed rabbit. He got to his feet, quickly, and gave an astonished glance backwards to where the sound came from. Emerging from the shadows came a tall and slim figure, dressed in a long, white dress.
"Who?s there?" he shouted, scared out of his wits as he realized that he had wandered off and had no clue where he was, and that a stranger almost twice his size was approaching him. The first beam of daylight reached the stranger and for a second its long, curling hair caught fire. The stranger?s face was no longer in shadow and as the being continued towards Sam he realized that the stranger was a woman. And not only a woman, but an elf! Too astonished to say anything, Sam simply gazed at the beautiful elf- woman as she finally stopped in front of him. She smiled. A smile that truly revealed her inner beauty as well as her outer loveliness and made Sam smile back, awkwardly, but no longer scared.
"What is a young hobbit like yourself doing in these parts of the woods?" she asked, looking down at him with the bluest eyes Sam ever had seen. Even Frodo's blue gaze couldn't compete them.
"I'm? uhmm?" he started, realizing that he sounded like a twit yet again. But she smiled and touched his chin with a milk white, slender finger.
"Don't you worry, Sam, I know all about it." Sam drew back in shock.
"How do you know my name!" he gasped. The elf maiden continued to smile.
"I live in these woods," she said. "I speak with the trees, the flowers, the birds, the beetles. All of the forest?s creatures have a voice, even the smallest pebble." At this Sam felt sudden remorse for the pebble he'd just tossed into the brook. The elf- maiden continued with a smile:
"We have all been following you and Frodo's love life for quite some time now. It amuses me how a forest can take such great pleasure in watching lovers that are truly made for each other."
Sam had to use all his willpower to not land on his tush.
"You're joking!" he said, mostly to convince himself. But the elf continued smiling;
"I'm Leoralay and I've decided to make my favourite two lovers? greatest wish come true." Now Sam gaped.
"What? But how do you know, how can you make..." Her gesture silenced him as she bowed down and faced him.
"Beautiful your love is," she said with a voice clear as a silver bell. Her hand made a new gesture and she looked like she was searching him, and Sam felt as if she was reading his mind. "But is it strong enough?" she continued as her gaze swept across his face.
"Is what strong enough?" Sam squeaked. He felt like a fool.
"Your love," she answered dreamily as she continued her search; "Is your love strong enough to achieve the ultimate goal?" Sam felt dizzy and utterly confused. What was she talking about? And why was she gazing at him like this? She finally looked satisfied and took one step back as she straightened her back. From a little purse that hung on her belt she produced a little silvery looking bottle.
"So? uhmm... what's the highest goal then.." Sam hesitantly asked as he watched her remove the cork from the bottle.
"That my dear one," she said and now her smile was so magnificent Sam had to squint so as not to go blind; "Is a love so strong and true that it is able to conceive both parts greatest wish."
"Ehrmm, well... That's going to be a big problem in this case, since we're both lads," Sam said and his ears went red. Leoralay continued smiling.
"Everything is possible if you just know the way," she said and leant towards him once more, with the tiny bottle in her left hand.
"But I don't know..."
"Is it your biggest wish, Sam?" she said and searched his gaze once more. Sam, looking as if he was about to faint any second squeaked;
"Yes!"
"Then drink this." She handed him the bottle.
Sam looked uncertain, wondering if it were all just a bizarre dream he would awake from any second And as he decided it had to be so, he took the bottle and drank the liquid inside it. The taste was like nothing he'd ever tasted in his whole life, and it left a tingling sensation down his throat. Leoralay closed her eyes and uttered some words in Elvish. Then she opened her eyes and smiled again.
"Good luck to the three of you Sam," she said.
"What do you mean the three of us??" Sam asked, but at that very second Leoralay turned and ran gracefully back into the forest. "Leoralay!!" Sam shouted, but she didn't return.
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By the time the sun had risen high in the sky and Sam was tending his duties in the garden of Bag End he was sure the whole thing had been a dream. He didn't mention it to Frodo though, as they had both decided not to talk about the ?parent-thing? ever again. And by the end of the day he chuckled to himself as he went to bed. What wild dreams would his mind be coming up with tonight?
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Three months later, at the beginning of September, Sam stood as usual in the gardens of Bag Ends trying very hard to attend to his duties. But it seemed he'd come down with a nasty dose of the flu lately. He didn't seem to be able to hold anything down anymore, it all came up moments after he'd eaten it. His throat burned after a nasty encounter with his stomach?s bile, and his stomach churned once more.
"SAM!" The hobbit approaching him sounded both worried and angry. "Didn't I tell you not to work in the gardens as long as you're ill?" Frodo took the hedge clippers from Sam's tired hands. "Now, come inside. I'll make you some lunch." The very idea of eating made Sam's stomach twist in agony.
"No? no food. It's no use... I'll just throw it back up again?"
Frodo forced him to lie down on a bed.
"I don't want you to wander about like this when you look like you're about to collapse!" Frodo scolded him. "You've been throwing up so much lately that you even beat my aunt Frelmas? neighbour when she was with child!" He chuckled as he mentioned this, not aware of the sudden change in Sam's face. The colour on his face went from pale to deathly white. With child? The strange dream reoccurred to him and panic struck him. He wasn't with... child? NO, he told himself. He couldn't be. But think if he was? What a wonderful gift to give to Frodo...
"Frodo?" he said eagerly, but hesitated with the rest of the words.
"What, Sam?" Frodo said and smiled as he tucked a blanket round his lover.
"What if there was a way after all...A way for us to get what we really want?" Frodo looked at him for a moment, then answered calmly:
"Then there would still be nothing we could do."
From Sam's startled look Frodo understood that wasn't the answer he was looking for.
"Even if we by some miracle were able to conceive a child, Sam, it wouldn't be fair on the child. It would grow up considered a freak, Sam. Everyone but you and me would fear it and look upon it as something foul and unnatural. I couldn't see my self bringing a child in to the world under such circumstances, could you?"
"I guess not..." Sam's answer was barely a whisper.
****************************************
Three weeks later the flu seemed finally to have released its grip on Sam, and that relieved Frodo and most others around him. But Sam was terrified. Five mornings ago he had felt something, a movement in his belly. The weird dream had been no dream after all, and Sam was now beside himself in terror of what would happen if anyone found out. He knew of no one he could confess to, even Frodo had to be kept in the dark. But how for how long could he fool everyone? In a few weeks time it'd be starting to show, and Sam had no idea of how he was going to get out of this mess. Maybe he should go away, claim he had some quest and just stroll off like some great adventurer? But he knew he didn't have the heart or strength to leave Frodo behind. But could he knowingly break his master's heart?
He tried to act like his usual self, and was quite good at it, but he tried more and more to avoid any intimate moments with Frodo in fear of him finding out. Frodo on the other hand had no idea whatsoever of what was going on, but a fear had awoken in his heart, a fear of Sam not loving him anymore.
***************
November came, with the promise of snow in the air. Sam was steadily gaining weight and tried his best to conceal it with wearing big, baggy clothes. He didn't tuck his shirt into his pants anymore, which annoyed his father.
"You look like a big potato-sack!" he growled up from his bowl of porridge; "Next thing you know you?ll come waltzing in here wearing a dress!"
Sam sighed and ate the last of his breakfast. He and Frodo had had big a fight last night. Sam had once more avoided Frodo's touches and backed away with a lame excuse. Frodo had screamed at him and told him that he couldn't stand feeling like an ugly troll for wanting some intimacy. Sam had been avoiding him for weeks now. Then he decided Sam didn't love him any more, and Sam had run from there, tears stinging his eyes and with no stronger desire in his body than to lie down and die. He hated his body and he hated the secret he carried. But he knew he could blame no one but himself. It was all his fault, and the life that was growing in his very own body was the sign of a love most men never will experience during their whole lifetime. But it also was enough to destroy the very same love... Sam was starting to wish he'd never met the elf in the woods.
Frodo didn't speak to him at all that day, nor the next. Sam was but a shadow of his old self as he tried to care for his master as usual. His heart cried out in anguish every time he looked upon his dear love, he longed to touch him, to confess, cry in his warm embrace- but he held back. And as Frodo grew more and more distant, Sam decided he had to leave the Shire.
**************************'
He had decided, but still he remained where he belonged. Sam was convinced he would go mad any second. His body was changing more quickly than ever and his clothes could no longer hide the bulging lump of his pregnancy. The Gaffer was ranting about Sam eating him out of house and home and most hobbits looked at him and openly wondered why he'd gained so much weight lately. But there was no nasty undertone to this: a fat hobbit was a healthy and happy hobbit one said, and as Sam always had been plump, he now looked more like the ideal hobbit than ever. Or at least that was what most of them thought anyway. But Sam wasn't at all happy with his all too fast growing body. His back ached and he became out of breath with the least of movements. Thankfully Marigold, his younger sister sewed him some new clothes, so he didn't need to go around feeling like an over-stuffed sausage anymore.
The first week in December felt as cold as Sam's heart. He cried himself to sleep every night now. Missing the tender arms around his waist, moist lips that always knew how to set things right. But all this was lost. Now the only thing Sam had left was the unborn child he bore, the statement of his love. Could it be that he loved Frodo too much?
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Frodo had no idea of the real reason he and Sam had drifted apart. He thought Sam had grown tired of him after all, not able to love the older hobbit any longer. They hardly spoke anymore. Frodo always kept busy in the other part of the house to where Sam was occupied, when his servant was doing chores inside. He saw the strain and the weight gain on his former lover and started to worry about his health. No matter how healthy and happy a fat hobbit was supposed to be, Sam looked neither healthy nor happy. Frodo had tried so many times to ask him how he was, but the question slipped away every time he thought of Sam's cold withdrawals over the last months.
Today he was expecting a visitor from Buckland. His merry cousin Merry had announced his visit by an old and near death carrier pigeon. Frodo looked forward to it. It would be nice to laugh for a change and to get his mind off Sam. He set Sam to prepare Merry?s arrival while he himself plunged into a book.
He awoke a couple of hours later and realized he'd dozed off in front of the fire. The fire, gave a last attempt at a spark then faded away because of lack of wood. Frodo got up to put a log on the fire and realized there was no wood left. Then he heard some scrambling at the doorway and the heavy panting of Sam entering. He sounded awfully tired! A wave of worry swept through Frodo?s body as the slow, heavy steps drew nearer. Then Sam rounded the corner so that he was in plain sight for Frodo. He was carrying a pile of wood tall enough to cover his face.
"You shouldn't carry such heavy burdens Sam." The words escaped Frodo's mouth before he could stop them. Sam very slowly set down the logs and struggled to straighten his back. Then he looked right at Frodo, something he hadn't done for weeks and said:
"That burden was nothing against the one I bear in my heart." And so he turned, and left for the kitchen, leaving Frodo puzzled. Burden in his heart? What did he mean?
Sam was furious with himself. He had nearly given away his secret! He had just blurted it out because he was so tired after carrying all that wood. His back was aching, and it seemed like the unborn child found great pleasure in shifting its position every minute. Sam was exhausted and longed for his bed. But still he had the best guestroom to clean before he could head for home.
Frodo listened to the sounds of Sam's scurrying about in the kitchen. After a while his footsteps continued down the hall and Frodo heard the creaking sound of the main guestroom's door opening. Then the sound of what must have been a moan reached Frodo's ears and the soft thump of a body hitting the floor.
Sam was halfway over the floor with a mop and bucket when a sharp pain grabbed a hold of his back and sent sparks of fire up and down it. The bucket fell to the floor with water flooding out of it, the mop followed Sam's fall. He landed on his side, leaving a stinging pain in his left hip that had gotten the worst blow. The pain in his back vanished almost faster than it had arrived, but Sam had gotten big and slow over the past weeks and months and had no chance to get back to his feet before Frodo came running.
"SAM! Are you all right?" Frodo got a hold of Sam's arm and helped him to his feet. Sam looked like he was likely to fall down again any second. "Here, Sam. Lie down for a bit." Frodo led him to the bed, and Sam felt too dizzy to say no.
Sam was pale as a corpse as he lay down on the bed. Frodo was very concerned.
"What happened Sam?" he asked as he stopped himself from stroking Sam's forehead.
"Slid on the mop.." Sam answered silently as he closed his eyes to avoid Frodo from seeing the tears that stung his eyes. Frodo sighed.
"What's wrong Sam?" But as Sam didn't respond to his question Frodo rose and left.
********************************************
Loud knocking on the door as he was going through the hallway told Frodo that Merry had arrived.
"Cousin Frodo, are you at home? I'm freezing out here!" Frodo opened the door and welcomed his cousin inside.
"Nice trip?" he asked politely and took Merry?s cloak as the soaking hobbit shook the snow out of his curls.
"Veeery nice!" said Merry with a sarcastic undertone. "I had to borrow Leffet's grumpy old pony Legs! It's a miracle I survived the trip, I swear the beast tried to tip me off his back! Pippin sends his Hello's by the way," he added and the dimples in his cheeks grew deep. "He's soo angry with me right now, the git- he would come to, but I told him I had no time to drag his bad-tempered behind all over the country- side. He would have frozen to death, he doesn't know how to dress at all!" Merry followed Frodo to the kitchen looking around as if he was missing something.
"So, where have you hidden that Sam- bloke of yours, I would like to have a word or two with him," he said, making Frodo turn around in surprise.
"Oh?" he tried not to look as he felt; "What do you need him for?"
"Well," said Merry with a big smile; "That's actually some story! Two days ago I received a very mysterious letter that urged me to take a trip to the Shire. There I should have a chat with Sam on something, and I'm not telling what so don't ask!" Frodo shut his mouth as Merry continued; "The letter was signed "Leoralay", and that's the funniest part- I don't know of any lass with that particular name. Do you know her?"
"No, Frodo answered as his mind got suspicious. Was this Leoralay some lass Sam was seeing? Was that the reason he looked so miserable every time Frodo saw him, because he longed to be with this Leoralay and that he practically got sick in the presence of Frodo? "He's in the guestroom, lying down for a little while," Frodo said when he became aware of Merry?s impatient look.
Sam had just sat up from the bed and sat miserably with his feet barely touching the floor when Merry came strolling in.
"Hi Sam!" Merry said with a big grin and then stopped so hard he almost fell forward. "Wow, what have YOU been eating lately, you're humongous!" he said and leant forward to poke Sam's stomach. Sam acted as Merry tried to pin him with a spear. "Whoops, shouldn't have done that!" Merry laughed; "So, how're you been doin? lately Sam?"
"Fine," Sam answered without looking up. Merry frowned a little as he didn't believe Sam's words."
"Well, I better tell you why I'm here? he said and fetched an envelope from his vest- pocket. "I got a letter by a certain Leoralay the other day..." Sam looked up. There was an expression of great anxiety on his face.
"You got a letter from Leoralay?" he said slowly to assure himself he hadn't heard him wrong.
"That's right, and it was a very mysterious letter, and as I don't know this lass I wonder what made her send a letter to me."
"What did she want?" Sam whispered.
"Well, she more or less commanded me to come here to see you and make you confess your secret."
The death sentence, Sam thought and wished he had the ability of vanishing without a trace. "I have no secrets," he lied looking down.
"Ah, come on Sam, just admit it," Merry urged in a light and kind tone; "If it's about you and Frodo I already know." Sam shot Merry an astonished look.
"But how...?" he started, but Merry suddenly got a light frown on his forehead and it looked as if he was thinking very hard.
"No, wait," he said; "That can't be the secret I'm meant to have you confess, all though that IS a secret too, but the secret you had to confess Leoralay wrote that you could tell me first and then Frodo. And since Frodo obviously knows about the affair you are having that can't be it. Wow! I should become a mystery solver or something!" Merry grinned, quite pleased with his own performance.
"She meant it would be easier for you if you took a practice confession round with me before you told Frodo," Merry continued. "And she rambled on for a while about love and that it conquers all and so forth." Sam shook his head;
"Love conquers some things, Merry, but not all. I'm afraid I'm in too deep a mess this time..." At the same time the baby shifted it's position with a violent push. Merry jumped backwards with an expression of utter horror on his face.
"Your belly!" he squeaked, with eyes ready to pop out of his head at any second; "It moved!"
"Off course it didn't move!" Sam said urgently, but he knew the battle was lost when Merry ran off into the hall screaming for Frodo to come see. And seconds later they both came scrambling back, Merry in lead while he jabbered away about Sam's apparently possessed stomach. Sam buried his face in his hands. He couldn't hold back the tears anymore.
"I'm so sorry Mr. Frodo," he sobbed.
Frodo felt bewildered by the sight of Sam. He looked devastated. And then he remembered the letter from this... Leoralay.
"So... you had an affair, did you," Frodo said, voice cold as ice. Merry stood in the doorway, watching Sam's stomach as if he feared it would attack him any minute. Sam looked up with surprise in his face.
"Affair? No? I haven't? how could I do that to you?!" he whispered looking so miserable Frodo heard Merry snivel behind him.
"Well, it seems you've had no problem ignoring me these last months," Frodo said and suddenly got painfully aware of that Merry was in the room. He turned around, desperately brewing some lame explanation, but Merry didn't look shocked at all.
"I know all about you two," he said with a teasing smile; "But I didn't know you had split up? How can that be, you two are perfect for each other!" Frodo didn't comment but turned back to Sam again;
"Now, about that moving belly of yours, mind if I have a look?" Sam looked so scared Frodo's heart bled for him; "Please, Sam," he urged as Sam held his arms close to his body, trying to shield him self as much as he possibly could.
"I've let you down," Sam whispered through silent tears as he slowly removed his hands. "I didn't think... and she was so friendly... and she told me I could make all our wishes come through. I didn't think about what life it would have, I only thought about how wonderful it would for you to be a father...
"A father? Sam... What exactly do you mean...?" Frodo suddenly looked very uncertain. Sam slowly unbuttoned his shirt and lifted it away for his lover to see.
"I'm... with child." From the doorway came a loud thump, Merry had fainted. Frodo stood aghast, staring at Sam's stomach. He was lost for words, he couldn't move. How could this be possible? HOW?
"I'm so sorry to have put you in this situation Mr. Frodo, I should have left weeks ago, but I just couldn't leave you, I was too... too? cowardly." Finally Frodo regained the use of his legs and he walked towards the weeping hobbit he loved so dearly.
"Oh, Sam," he said weakly as he got down to his knees beside his love; "Why didn't you tell me? How could you keep it for your self for so long?"
"You didn't want it," Sam sobbed; " You didn't want to bring a child into this world to be treated as a freak just to become a father." Frodo understood.
"Forgive me, Sam. If I had had any idea... of your... position... If I was given the chance to have a child I would, Sam- despite my words that day. That was just a defence mechanism, to keep me from thinking such thoughts.? Sam's deep brown eyes finally met his glance.
"You... you really want a baby?" he whispered in disbelief.
"Yes, Sam- more than anything!" Frodo answered, now he was crying too. He leaned closer to embrace his love, and this time Sam wasn't jumping away. He was crying silent tears of relief as Frodo carefully lay his hand upon his stomach as if it was the most precious treasure he had ever seen.
"I'm to be a father," Frodo said with a loving smile as he lowered his head and kissed Sam's bare skin. "I love you, Sam! I love both of you!"
***********************************
Merry awoke on the very spot he had fainted. He sat up with a confused look on his face and discovered the couple on the side of the bed. True love was beaming from both of them, and Merry felt so happy on their behalf. Then he remembered the reason he had fainted in the first place and with a weird smile on his face his head hit the floor once more.
**********************************'
With one month and two weeks to go Sam finally left the Shire as planned. But the plan had taken a turn for the better; his beloved Frodo was coming with him, together with Pippin who was to show them the way to an old, but nice and cosy hobbit-hole in Buckland. It was to become Sam's and Frodo's home for the next months, until spring. Frodo had early decided they had to move before the baby was born, but that they could return to the Shire sometime next spring. He hadn't yet the faintest idea of how to explain the baby they would return with, but he reckoned a solution would appear when the baby was first born. He was about to become a father! This thought was on his mind day and night and he wore a constant smile on his face, especially when he was around Sam. And Sam, he was glowing. The past months of worries and tears were long forgotten now as he found himself by his lover's side once more. Sure, it was a true hell to leave the Gaffer and Marigold behind, telling them lies about his sacred duty to follow Frodo who just recently found out he wanted to spend the rest of the winter in Buckland. Marigold was crying her eyes out the day he left, and Sam could have sworn she knew he hadn't told her the truth about his departure.
"This is not the end, Mari-dear. It's not like I leave you for good, you know. I'm just going to Buckland for a while, that's all." Sam had a plea in his eyes as Marigold dived down in her hankie once more.
"But it's not the same without you in the house!" she sobbed and threw herself at her brother in a desperate embrace. Sam nearly buckled under the weight as his back had more than enough to carry already.
"Please, sweet sister, you'll only make our farewell so much harder to stand for the both of us!" Sam patted her sadly on the cheek and started crying himself. "It's not that far, and not for so very long..."
"Then... can I come visit?" Marigold's eyes filled with hope as she drew away from Sam with a uncertain smile in her face.
"Of course you can!" Sam said reassuringly as he kicked him self mentally. If she came to visit, she might very well find out the real reason her brother and his master was fleeing the Shire. But surely he couldn't tell her no. He just had to make sure she didn't want to visit them, somehow. Maybe he could send her a carrier pigeon when he arrived Buckland and tell her a little lie or two. Sam left his family with a heavy heart.
**************************************************
The journey was most unpleasant. Sam had to hobble his way on an old, slow pony Frodo specially had picked for the occasion. He was worried a younger and more fiery pony could throw his expecting lover of the back. Pippin was talking all the way about how excited he was for the pair of them and how much fun it would be with a junior Baggins-Gamgee in the house. His voice was rather high pitched, though, and both Frodo and Sam reckoned he wasn't as comfortable with the situation as he gave the impression of. Merry, who had stayed behind in Buckland to prepare their new home for the couple's arrival, seemed to have gotten over the first shock the following days of his visit at Bag End. By the time he returned to Buckland to help Frodo find a suitable hole, he was patting Sam on the stomach and making weird grimaces as he talked to the baby Sam was carrying.
All of Sam's nerves were twanging as they arrived their new home. It didn't look like much from the outside, but as Sam entered he instantly felt as home. Merry had made a lot of effort in making the hobbit- hole as pleasant and cosy as possible. It had a small kitchen, a living room with a sparkling fire and two bedrooms. All rooms smelled of soap, fresh and clean. Merry had even cut out paper flowers to decorate the rooms with and in the master bedroom there was the tiniest little cradle for the newborn. Sam was so happy he started crying.
"Oh, Merry it looks beautiful in here!" he sobbed and gave Merry a big hug. Merry returned the hug and patted Sam's stomach with a big grin on his face.
"I'm so glad you liked it!" he said and started crying himself. So this was where his baby was going to be born. Sam sat down in a comfy armchair to rest his back for a minute. But then sudden terror struck him and Sam sprang to his feet with an expression of terror on his face. In all this longs months of worry and fear Sam had only worried about life after the birth. Now it dawned to him he hadn't given the actual Birth a thought at all! He was breathing shallowly and grasped the nearest hobbit who came running to him in alarm, Pippin. He had the same look Merry had had the night he had found out of Sam's condition.
"What... what's wrong, Sam?" he squeaked as he looked most unstable. Then he gasped; "You're not... giving... birth... are you???" Frodo came running from the nearest bedroom after unloading some baggage and took Sam in his own arms.
"What's wrong, Sam?" He looked as scared as Pippin: "Is it the baby?"
"The baby is fine... for now," Sam whispered: "but what when it is to be born? I'm a lad! I'm not built for such conditions!" He started to cry again. "Here I go worrying about what to do after the baby is born when it's not even sure the baby CAN be born!" Frodo led him back to the armchair with comforting arms.
"Off course our baby will be born, Sam. The elven lady wouldn't have helped you getting pregnant if she knew you wasn't going to be able to deliver it!" But Sam didn't seem at all comforted by Frodo's words.
"I don't know," he said and clamped his hands around his growing stomach as if to reassure himself. It could be possible Leoralay had forgotten that peculiar detail. Maybe she had assumed it was the males among hobbits who were in possession of birth canals, and not the females. Sam looked down at his bulging belly and a silent tear fell on the rough material of his shirt. Maybe it was so he had to die if he wanted his child to be born.
*************************************************************
In the following days Sam was becoming restless. He didn't have time to sit at all and spent most of the day dashing around in his new home to decompress his thoughts. Frodo asked him again and again to sit down and relax, but Sam seemed to be in his own world entirely and ignored his lover?s wishes. Merry and Pippin who were going to stay with Sam and Frodo over the winter looked just as concerned as Frodo, but they didn't succeed in their pleas either. At night Sam waited until Frodo had fallen asleep for the night, before he started crying silently, with his back against his lover.
A week after their arrival Frodo decided to write to this Leoralay. Merry had received a letter from her, so Frodo reckoned he could reach her the same way. A well-trained pigeon would have no problem finding an elven lady, as all birds have a certain "love" for the elves. He wrote a short letter, describing the situation and Sam's distress, begging her to send a reassuring letter immediately. Merry went to the nearest neighbour to borrow a carrier pigeon, and by second breakfast a proud pigeon flew away, direction forest.
Sam was too preoccupied to realize what Frodo was doing. He was working in the kitchen with a blabbering Pippin who tried to get him to relax. But Sam was busy. He had meals to prepare, cakes and cookies to bake and a million other things that HAD to be done. Right now he was doing the dishes, with Pippin as an overexcited helping hand.
"Here, Sam - let me take that! No, Sam that one's too heavy, just let me dry it and put it in the cupboard. Why don't you go sit down and relax Sam, while I finish these?" Pippin tried to shove Sam away from the sink.
"Can you please stop that, Master Pippin? I may be with child, but I'm not an invalid!" Sam shouted, his face red with anger. But his face quickly turned into remorse and guilt: "Forgive me, Master Pippin! I didn't mean to shout... I... I.." He dropped the cup he was holding and it fell to the floor with a crash. Pippin seemed shocked, probably by Sam's outburst. Dear lord, he had lost his temper and yelled at one of the upper class! And now he'd gone breaking a cup as well... Sam clumsily got down to his knees and started picking up the pieces of what had been Merry's favourite cup, tears stinging his eyes.
At the same time Merry came into the kitchen and discovered the remains of his dearest cup of all time. Pippin had tried to give him a warning look, but it was to late.
"My cup!" Merry wailed in horror: "My dearest, bestest, favouritest cup of all time!" Sam's reaction was horrible to watch for the two hobbits. He got to his feet, face twisted in agony and ran to the bedroom with loud sobs.
"Nice going, Merry!" Pippin said in a cold and sarcastic tone: "As Sam hasn't got enough on his mind already than to feel guilty about a stupid cup!"
"But it was my favo..."
"rite cup of all time, yes- I heard you the first time," Pippin interrupted and gave his cousin a cold look. Merry sighed:
"Okay, okay, I know I was a bit harsh. I'll see if I can make it right." He took a deep breath and headed for Sam's bedroom.
He reckoned Sam was making the big, shivering lump under the blanket on the bed and sat down beside it.
"I'm sorry, Sam, I shouldn't have shouted like that," he said patting what he believed to be Sam's head reassuringly.
"You had all right to shout at me!" the blanket- lump howled: "I broke your favourite cup! And after all you and Master Pippin have done for me..."
"Oh, who cares about a stupid cup anyway..." Merry said.
"You do!" replied the blanket-lump.
"Ehhrmm... Well, I reckon we can fix it with some glue, don't you think?" Merry was starting to feel desperate. If Frodo came in and found Sam in this condition and found out Merry was to blame, heads would roll. Thank goodness he was out fetching wood! The shivering under the bed- rug suddenly stopped:
"Do you think... do you think it can be fixed?" And a head slowly appeared from under the blanket. Merry discovered he had been patting and talking to Sam's tush...
"Sure!" Merry said enthusiastically and grinned wider than ever as Sam fully emerged from his hiding- place.
"Oh, Master Merry, I'm so sorry I broke your cup!" Sam sniffed as Merry calmed him down with a warm embrace.
"Don't you worry about the cup, Sam! I don't care so long as you are all right!"
*************************************
Nightfall, the same day, and Frodo was sitting restlessly by the window in the kitchen. Surely Leoralay would have received the letter by now? He shot a glance at Sam who was sitting by the fire sewing baby- clothes. He seemed a bit calmer tonight, luckily. He didn't know about a certain incident with a cup, as Merry and Pippin both had "forgotten" to mention it. It was so weird to think that under Sam's skin there was a living, breathing baby boy or girl, and that in one month?s time he would greet his firstborn for the very first time. If just that elven lady would reply so they all could calm down a bit!
Frodo awoke with a jerk. He had dozed off for a second, by his watch post by the window. The sound that had woken him continued. It was some sort of pecking sound that came from the window- glass. There by the window an eager pigeon sat, pecking the glass to get Frodo's attention. On his leg it had strapped a small parchment and a tiny flask. Frodo opened the window and welcomed the bird with a big smile.
"I've been expecting you!" he said as the pigeon lifted his foot to get rid of the heavy package. It gave Frodo a self-important look and flew out the window as soon as it felt its task had been done.
"What was all that about?" Sam put aside his work and gave the parchment Frodo was unrolling a curious look.
"We've got mail, my dear!" Frodo said with a big smile on his face and started to read. The letters were written so exquisitely beautifully it stung Frodo's eyes.
Dear Sam and Frodo, my favourite couple.
I'm glad you wrote to me to ask about that certain detail, because, to be frank, I hadn't thought of that. But not to worry, with this letter I send a potion you'll have to rub on Sam's bellybutton when the time is up, and not to worry- Sam will definitely know when that is!
With love and good luck, Leoralay.
Frodo swallowed.
"So, what did it say?" Sam got to his feet, eager to read the letter but Frodo packed it hastily away in his vest- pocket.
"Leoralay sends her love and tells not to worry, Sam. When the time is in all we have to do is to rub your bellybutton with this potion and voila!"
"That's it?" Sam looked bewildered: "No excruciating pain, just rub that thing on my bellybutton and everything pops out?"
"Ehrmm... yes, something like that!" Frodo knew he was stretching the truth, but he didn't dare show Sam the letter that had stated Sam's worst fears and more than likely indicated pain. Sam looked so relived Frodo forgot about his guilt at once.
"Oh, Frodo, love! Now I need not to worry any more!!" Sam kissed Frodo more passionately and eagerly than he had in months.
****************************************
Peace and solitude ruled Bag End2 the following weeks. Sam grew and grew, his clothes were starting to look painfully small, but there wasn't a single complaint from his mouth. He was starting to listen to the signs of his body too and let the others do the hardest work. These days it was hard enough work to rise from a chair without collapsing afterwards. He kept himself useful by sewing clothes for the unborn, and though he never had been much of an artist with a needle and tread, he seemed to have a natural gift when it came to baby clothes. Frodo whirled around, assuring himself Sam was comfortable all the time, petting his stomach, kissing his chin, nibbling his earlobe. Now, the earlobe- thing he had to stop. Sam got so aroused by this he hardly managed to sit still. He was a little worried it could affect the baby and told Frodo so. In a couple of weeks, when the baby was born... but not now. Poor Frodo got a desperate look on his face when Sam told him this. They had only had one "tumble in the hay" the last four months, two weeks and three days- and now Sam looked sexier than ever. The last time had been the night Frodo found out about Sam's delicate position and they had had a very clumsy try with Sam on all fours and an over ecstatic Frodo trying his best not to come at once. Sam's tummy had weighed him down so much he didn't seem to have to much pleasure of his own in the matter, and Frodo was so concerned about his lovers welfare and he was so aroused the whole thing ended quite quickly with a moaning Frodo, coming all over Sam's butt cheek.
Sam saw the disappointment in Frodo's eyes.
"But that doesn't mean I can't help you out master Frodo, if you follow me sir?" His eyes twinkled as he saw the lust appear in Frodo's eyes.
"Are you sure? You don't think it could be bad for the baby?" Frodo looked like he was about to carry his eight and a half months pregnant lover to the bedroom.
"Oh, no, a few extra vitamins couldn't hurt!" Sam said reassuringly letting himself getting dragged to the nearest bed.
**********************************************
They had a splendid night. Sam had feared he would get too desperate helping Frodo with his arousal, but he discovered he felt pleasure in just doing so, and they finally fell asleep in each other?s arms, content and happy. Merry and Pippin didn't bother to wake them till breakfast, nor elevenses or lunch. But by afternoon tea Pippin had a look out the window and almost chocked on a muffin.
"Marigold, she's comin?! She's comin?!" he coughed with muffin crumbs flying all over the place.
"Hey, Pip calm down! What are you rambling about?" Merry wiped half chewed muffin off his face with the back of his hand.
"Out there, you twit!" Pippin coughed and pointed out the window: "Sam's sister, she's comin?!" Now the panic struck Merry as well.
"Oh nooo! And those horny little rabbits are still sleeping! Or at least that's what I hope they are doing..." he added feverishly: "Pip, you go stall Mary while I get the rabbits out of bed!" They both ran to accomplish their tasks at lightning speed. Merry knocked franticly on the door of Sam and Frodo's bedroom:
"Get up, get up! Marigold's comin?! Get up NOOOW!!!" He was rewarded with a yelp of panic from the other side of the door, and he could hear Frodo run around as a madman, and Sam trying the same, but as he was to big and slow it just sounded like he was thumping around like a madman.
Sam had never had more problems with getting dressed. He was so panicked his shirt suddenly seemed to have grown a pair of legs over the night, and Frodo wasn?t doing much better on the other side of the bed. His sister was coming to visit! Darn, why hadn't she given him a few days notice so that he could have made up an excuse for her not to come? But now she was here and he couldn't just make her turn round and head for home! But how would she react when she saw him, discovered how he still was putting on weight by the minute? He looked down his body and tried to hold his breath to see if that helped.. nope. And his clothes, the shirt was threatening to lose all of its buttons every time he sat down, and thinking of clothes... The living room was full of baby clothes!
"Frodo, the baby clothes in the living room!" Sam panted as he buttoned his pants. Frodo ran out the door and came back seconds later with his arms full, throwing it all on top of the cradle by the corner.
"Come on, Sam! Pippin isn't able to stall her much longer!" Frodo grabbed Sam's hand and dragged him to the hallway. He let go of Sam's hand just before the door flew open and Marigold came in the door:
"Relax, Pippin! I do NOT need any help with my baggage!" she said to Pippin who was still trying his best to stall her.
"Marigold! What a... surprise!" Sam exhaled as he tried to catch his breath without looking obvious.
"Sam-dear!" Marigold cried with a big smile and dropped everything she had in her hands and jumped into her brother?s arms. Sam gasped slightly as the weight of a small hobbit-woman was added to his own body-weight. She let go of him and gave his stomach a concerned look.
"I really think you should ease up on your eating, Sam. It's not good for you." Sam blushed and hoped the baby wasn't about to make any sudden moves.
"I hope I didn't come at an inconvenient time? I couldn't help myself from coming on a surprise visit." Marigold said, face literally beaming as she picked up her things and dragged them into the kitchen.
"Of... of course not!" Frodo urged as he followed her, drying the sweat from his forehead. :"We're just... surprised!"
Sam moved around in circles as he tried to stay one step in front of his baby sister at all times. He showed her the kitchen and the living room, and hesitantly followed her to the bedrooms. She raised her brows as she discovered the king size double bed Sam was sharing with his master:
"Are you sure your master Frodo is okay with this?" she asked as her eyes discovered a new unexpected detail about the room, the cradle with the baby- clothes.
"Oh, this is gorgeous, Sam!" she went all the way round the cradle to look at it's every angle: "And all these little outfits, they're adorable too! But what are they doing here?" Sam felt his cheeks grow red:
"Uhmm... they were left behind by the family who last lived here. Frodo didn't have the heart to throw it away. And... ummh.." Sam could swear he would catch fire any minute: "the sharing bed thing... since there were only two bedrooms and Merry and Pippin was going to stay the winter too, Frodo thought we could share the biggest bedroom. Since the bed is so big it doesn't matter really." A drop of sweat appeared on his forehead, he was the worst liar in the world, and Mari was usually one of the best of spotting his lies. But she seemed, weirdly enough, quite satisfied with the explanation.
"I'll just crash on the sofa in the living room during my stay," she said and hugged her brother, a new expression on her face: "Is it just me or do you have some sort of glow around you, brother-dear? You look happy, but there's something more..." She suddenly got a triumphant look on her face:
"You're in love Sam!" Sam almost jumped backwards in his surprise.
"In love, who? Old Sam? Oh no? I don't think so!" Sam was sweating for real now, and his stomach jerked painfully as the baby felt his discomfort. But Marigold wasn't convinced at all.
"Please my dear brother, I can read you like a book! I see it in your face! The old, gloomy Sam that stalked around with his face always sad before he left the Shire has vanished. There is no more fear in your eyes now. And don't make any excuses! You deserve to be happy Sam! And you know I would never condemn you for anything. So why are you afraid to reveal your happiness to me?" she suddenly looked uncertain:
"Don't you trust me?" Sam felt the axe scratching his neck.
"Off course I trust you Mari-dear, it's just..."
"Just what? Tell me so I can understand!" she looked scared now. Maybe she was starting to see that Sam was a little too fond of his master as their father had in Sam's tweens. Sam rubbed his neck and sighed:
"I don't know how to tell you this... but I'm... I'm..." Sam was about to confess to everything just as Merry came storming into the room.
"Ah, there you are!!!" he yelled over enthusiastically and grabbed Marigold's arm: "You'll need some food after all that travelling you?ve done!" And he dragged her out to the kitchen before she had time to even react.
Sam sat down on the bed, feeling like he carried a huge weight on his shoulders. Two more seconds and he would have told her everything, and she would probably have stormed away, crying her eyes out as she screamed about him bringing shame to the family. His hands were shaking violently and he gasped, trying to calm down. Frodo found him this way and tried his best to get him to relax. But Sam didn't know how to handle this. Merry had bought him some time, yes- but when the meal was over, then what?
He somehow managed to get to his feet and to the kitchen, where he sat down to eat a considerable meal. Marigold sat by his side giving him a sidelong look now and again. And halfway through the meal she made a comment that made the whole male presence at the table jump on the chair in utter shock.
"So Sam, when're you due?" she said with a smile as she patted Sam on the belly with a light hand. Four pairs of dinner plate sized eyes stared at her in horror.
"How..." started Pippin as his jaw almost hit the table. Then Marigold started laughing. Her cheeks went apple red as she stared at the hobbits around her.
"Heeheehee, the looks on you all when I said that!" she roared and threw her head back: "What is it with men and their fear of pregnancy and childbirth? For heavens sake it was just a joke! And with that tummy Sam, you must have heard some of them by now!" She clapped him once more with a loving smile on the face.
At the same time Sam was surprised with a sudden sting in the back and was unable to choke the groan already on it's way up his throat.
"Sam? I was just joking, you know that don't you?" Marigold looked as she believed the pain Sam seemed to be experiencing was brought on by her.
"Yes, yes, I know- Mari... dear!" Sam closed his eyes as the pain seemed slowly to let go.
"Are you all right, Sam?" Frodo looked like he was ready to jump off his chair. Sam nodded and took a deep breath:
"Ate too fast," he replied flatly. His stomach was aching and he just wanted to lie down, but he couldn't. He had to sit through this.
***********************************************
By nightfall Sam started to feel desperate. His body didn't feel at all as it should any more. Sure, he had been bothered with the weight gain, the backaches and the loss for breath earlier, but now he felt so bloated and worn down he had trouble sitting up straight. The baby was obviously practicing athletics as it shifted and stirred all the time. Small ripples of pain now and again kept him awake as he sat in the living room listening to Marigold's news from the Shire. A nod now and again was all he managed to contribute to the conversation. Marigold didn't take her eyes of him and that added extra weight to his tiredness. She looked a bit sad, and her ringing voice seemed to have punctuated after the second lunch. Sam was pondering how to excuse himself to bed when his sister finally had an outburst.
"Sam, please! If you're mad at me just say so! I'm sorry! I didn't think I would upset you so!" Tears welled up in her eyes and Merry, Pippin and Frodo wisely chose to retire to the kitchen for the time being.
"Marigold... off course I'm not mad at you!" Sam said, trying not to look how he felt, like a bloated toad.
"Yes you are! You have hardly spoken a word to me since!" Marigold was openly sobbing now. She loved her brother dearly and would never dream of intentionally hurting him.
"I promise you Marigold, I'm not mad at you! I'm... I'm just tired, that's all." A cramp made the words sound harsher than intended. Marigold looked like her own brother just had whipped her. But before Sam had the chance to explain to her, a new cramp, much stronger than the first one, made him double over in pain- forgetting everything around him.
"Sam! Sam, what's wrong!" Marigold's voice was loud and scared. From the kitchen Frodo came storming, Merry and Pippin at heel.
"Sam?" Frodo touched Sam's cheek with a careful finger.
"I think... I think there is... something... wrong!" Sam was gasping for air as the pressure in his midsection remained.
"Help me get him to bed!"
****************************************'
The following minutes were a blur to Sam. He saw the terrified faces of the ones he loved, but he couldn't catch what they were saying. Finally the mist was fading and the excruciating pain in his belly eased for the time being.
"It's too early, isn't it?" He asked a tearful Frodo: "There should be another two weeks left."
"Can somebody PLEASE tell me what's going on here? " The scream came from Marigold. She looked terrified, but also determined. She obviously knew she was kept in the dark about something. Frodo looked at Sam. Sam gave it a thought. There was no use in continuing the pretence.
"Come Mari-dear, sit by my side." Marigold sat down beside him, trembling:
"You're not dying are you brother?"
"I surely hope not!" Sam said and tried to smile. He took her small hand in his:
"Remember when our oldest sister was with child for the very first time?"
"Sure, who can forget that! She gained like a ton and was a sapping mess for nine months!" Marigold said, remembering clearly.
"Do you remember when she was about eight months pregnant and I asked her how it felt like to have a little hobbit living and kicking inside?" Sam asked carefully.
"Oh yeah, you got to lay you hand on her tummy and you could feel the baby kicking all the way through her tummy and clothes!" she said and smiled:
"And I remember I got so jealous at you because you got to do it and I didn't."
"Right," Sam said: "But today you'll have your chance!" He put her hand on top of his stomach and was rewarded with a violent kick that strafed his ribs. Marigold looked very much like what Merry had when he'd discovered Sam's bouncing belly.
"It moved! Sam, your tummy moved!!!" Her eyes were about to roll around in her eyes. She lay her other hand on his stomach and again it jerked as if it was processed.
"You're to be an aunt again, sister. In a couple of weeks the youngest of the Gamgee-lads are to do something no Gamgee- lad ever have done before him. I'm with child." He reckoned it was about now she would start kicking him, but she just sat there with a goofy smile on her face. A new cramp ran down his spine and Sam moaned loudly as he clamped his arms around his stomach.
"Nooo... it's too soon... to early...!" Pearls of sweat were appearing on his face as it reddened in anxiety.
"How long, Sam! How long till you're due!" It was Marigold's voice. She sounded calm and determined.
"About... about two weeks..." Sam gasped as his body convulsed with pain.
"Ah, don't worry about the two weeks brother-dear. The baby is ready, and it's coming now! You're in labour, that's why you're in so much pain."
"Pain?" Sam squeaked: "But you said there would be no pain Frodo, that Leoralay had written so!" Frodo came to the bed looking very uncomfortable:
"I'm sorry my sweet, I may have stretched the truth some on that matter."
"Ah, the expecting father to be, I presume?" Marigold said with a shrewd smile. She seemed to take the news astonishingly well: "I hope you have an idea of how we're going to deliver this baby, cause I sure as heck don't!"
"The potion!" Merry squealed and ran to the kitchen.
************************************************
Oh what a mess. Frodo explained Mary what was most urgent, about the potion and that the pregnancy was the result of some elven magic. And Marigold got to work, as the male population of the house either seemed to petrified to move or to occupied in dealing with pain.
"Merry- hot water! Pippin- clean towels! And Frodo- be a man, comfort your... man! Help him deal the pain!"
Frodo felt so helpless he wanted to scream. To see the expression of pain on Sam's face was too much, to real. He wished he could take his place. How could he soothe Sam's pain when he was scared out of his wits himself?
At least he was able to help Marigold with unbuttoning Sam's shirt and pants, and Marigold for the first time got to see what Sam's clothes had tried to hide the last four months or so. His skin was stretched painfully to the limit and his bellybutton had turned inside out the last month.
"AHHH, I feel like I'm going to buuurst!" Sam?s face was twisted in agony and he grabbed Frodo's hand:
"Don't... you leave me... master Frodo, don't leave me alone... please..." Frodo tried his best not to look like he was planning a great escape.
"You know I won't leave you, my sweet Sam, and you know... it's really time you start calling me Frodo. I'm not your master, Sam." Frodo carefully wiped the sweat of Sam's forehead and uttered loving, tender words as they locked gazes for a few seconds.
Marigold had the little flask with the potion in her hand and as she took the cork off a blue mist came swirling out of it, not much but enough to catch the eye of everybody but Sam who was clenching his eyes shut for the moment being.
"I'm going to smear this blue... stuff on your tummy now, brother-dear," Marigold said and pored the potion on the center of Sam's stomach. She had no idea what this would do to help, but she reckoned this elven lady knew what she was doing. Maybe it would take some of the pain away from her hurting brother. But instead of easing them, Sam's pain just seemed to be increasing. Loud moans erupted from his throat as a large "hizzz" came from the spot Marigold had pored the potion.
"It's.... rippi..ng me... ap..part!!!" Sam gasped and his whole body shook. Behind her Mary half noticed Merry fainting, hitting the floor with a soft thud. Frodo was crying his eyes out and Pippin? she didn't even know where he was. Then she suddenly realized the whole concept of the blue potion and it's purpose.
"Relax, Sam!" she said reassuringly: "it's meant to feel that way, you're having contractions! And because you're a lad you need a birth canal to deliver the baby. And that's just what this potion now is doing. It's making a birth canal of your bellybutton!" Just as she spoke Sam's bellybutton slowly grew into an approximately eight centimetre wide hole. Sam looked like he'd rather stay pregnant the rest of his life than to continue what had just started. He'd never imagined there could be so much pain, and he had still no idea the pain now was nothing compared to the pain to come.
"You'll need to start pushing now, Sam," Marigold said and rolled up her sleeves. Sam looked at her with utter horror in his red, sweaty face.
"Push?" he panted as he clenched Frodo's hand to the limit of what the older hobbit's bones could bear. "Do... you want me... to push? Through that... tiny hole in... my... stom.mm.." He screamed out loud as a contraction more fierce than anything he'd yet encountered ravaged his body.
"You can do it, Sam! Push... NOW!" Marigold yelled. And Sam pushed. By the lords he pushed, and he forgot everything but what he felt, sensed, heard and tasted- pain. He fell back to the pillow with a gasp, wet curls blocking his blind eyes from the mad view in front of him, the beginning of a head crowning from the middle of his belly.
"That's right Sam, work with the contractions!" Marigold shouted eagerly "And PUSH!"
Frodo was absolutely certain he would die of terror any second. He couldn't understand how Marigold could be so calm, and how Sam managed to cope with the pain, at least in some way. Now, Merry and Pippin?s reactions- that was understandable! How could he be a support to Sam when he was so scared to loose him he was about to wet his pants?
"I love you Sam!" he squealed as Sam was doing some pretty heavy panting and groaning in front of him: "I love you so much!" Sam looked desperate at him, his big brown eyes were begging for relief.
"If I could take your place, Sam- I would!" Frodo said, honestly and kissed his lover on the right cheek. He looked like he was ready to collapse, and still Marigold was commanding him to push. Sam obeyed, but his face started to grow paler for every gasp that he made.
"The head's almost out now, Sam! Come on, just a little more!!"
Sam had ceased to exist. The only thing in his head now was to bring Frodo's child to the world. What to become of him afterwards he had no energy left to worry about. He could feel the baby slowly floating towards the surface, just one more push and then another one... With a scream that sucked the last reserves from his body, Sam pushed his daughter to the light. He fell heavy on his back, looking more dead than alive, as one thought swivelled around in his blank mind: Is the baby alright? The sharp, first cry from newborn lungs told him his nine months of agony were a blessing in disguise.
"Oh... she's beautiful, Sam!" Marigold had finally taken to tears. She cut the umbilical cord and laid the infant carefully on Sam's chest.
"I'm so proud of you brother-dear!" she sobbed and didn't seem at all disgusted by the idea of his brother probably being the first hobbit- lad ever to be pregnant. Frodo was proud too. His heart ached so much he had to close his eyes for a second, the wonderful sight of his dearest ones made him feel a huge need to go to some pub and brag for the following three nights in a row. Sam looked so beautiful, he was glowing of affection with the tiny infant on his chest. She had dark brown hair like Frodo's, but the eyes and the mouth was all Sam.
Merry slowly recovered from his violent encounter with the floorboards, and even Pippin dared enter the room once all the screaming had stopped.
"Awww, look at the tiny little fingers!" Pippin and Merry both cheered as the little one yawned:
"Look, she has that from her father's side!" Pippin said and made the typical annoying sounds every grown up do around small children.
"Which father, Pip?" Merry asked ironically.
But Sam and Frodo didn't hear them. They were in a world of their own, soft kisses and tender words as they both watched their precious treasure.
"What do you think we should call her?" Frodo asked as the little one made an attempt on catching Pippin's finger with a tiny fist.
"I think..." Sam answered with a smile: "we should call her Leoralay!"