One Night's Blessings

Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters (sadly) and don’t know the actors that portrayed them (I wish –drools- :P) This fanfic is going to be NC17 rating. Think yummy m/m loving. Also will be foul language (like anyone cares) and Mpreg (duh) as well as some… hmm how to say it? Blood and gore. (whoever said childbirth is beautiful was on crack –chuckles- towels, anyone?) Basically if you shouldn’t be reading this, don’t. I assume no responsibility whatsoever for compromising young minds and all that mess. Now the yummy wet dreams and fantasies, you’re more than welcome to blame me for hehe –winks- happy reading!
Pairing: Frodo/Merry, and some Legolas/Pip
Warnings: NC17 Mpreg like I said.Some violence. Blood and gore, & Language
Author’s Note: My first LOTR mpreg fanfic so please please be nice if you leave feedback. Constructive criticism is fine, but no flames please. color_me_complicated@hotmail.com ^_^ Hope you all enjoy! –Ragdoll
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Merry groaned softly as he woke, rolling over and cuddling into the warm body lying next to him. Mercy but his head hurt. He’d been hung over before, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he’d made a fool of himself last night, if this beast of a headache were any indication. Oh but it wasn’t only his head that hurt him. Indeed, it seemed there was a dull ache low in his back, his thighs, and oddly enough his bottom. This couldn’t all be from having fallen asleep on the ground… or was it floor? He couldn’t be sure.
He snuggled the warm body next to him gratefully, wondering what poor lass he had been with last night. The scent of sex was clear on the air, and he just knew he’d done something remarkably foolish. While it was a well kept secret, there were methods of protection. He hoped that the lass had been in her mind enough to insist on it. It wasn’t children that had him worried. He didn’t think himself capable of making any fair lass with child, for many reasons. No, what he worried over was illness. He wasn’t immortal like the beautiful elves he’d met and the playground of the shire had its well traveled women.
Sighing softly, he moved to sit up, flinching as the pain in his lower body spiked some. Gods, what was this pain? He couldn’t fathom why his little body hurt him so much. Sighing again, he let his soft blue eyes drift open, looking about some. He glanced down then to the aforementioned warm body, wondering whom he’d gone home with. He was in a bedroom, he thought, and it was clearly not his own. They’d fallen asleep on the hardwood floor in naught but their skin. He was floored by the sight before him.
Instead of the soft lass he’d been expecting to see, there lay a stunning, albeit scarred, lad of a hobbit before him. And not just any hobbit lad, but a dear dear friend. It all came rushing back to him then, and Merry couldn’t help the sudden dizziness that brought him to lay back down on the hard floor.

They were but a day’s ride from the shire now, and that was cause for celebration. Sam and Pip had gone before they did, leaving the comforting confines of the beautiful elven city to return home. Merry had stayed at Frodo’s behest, Frodo not wishing to take the journey home alone. So, Merry had stayed with his old friend, and when they set off for home, they were together. Merry was, in truth, glad of it too. He and Frodo had come to be very close, and he loved talking with him for long hours as they traveled at a relaxed pace.
They’d made camp for the night, pleased at the prospect of arriving home tomorrow, and were just settling in for dinner when Merry remembered the fine elven wine they’d been gifted with. “For a special occasion.” Legolas had told them. Well, what could be more special then this? Legolas had warned them that it was strong, and that they should take it easy the first time they drank of it. Of course the two hobbits paid their friend’s advice no never mind.
They drank deep of the wine, finishing the rather large bottle between them quickly. Before long, they were both well and truly drunk. It was new to Merry, who’d never once been so very sloshed. Oh sure, he’d been a bit… tipsy at times, but he’d managed to maintain his honor… well mostly… well partly, at least. Okay, so maybe he’d been drunk enough before to take the first lass he met to bed, but never so drunk as he was now. He felt like his eyes kept trying to cross themselves, and his thoughts were tied in knots. He and Frodo had been rolling about laughing about something, some joke neither would ever remember, when Merry very suddenly found a pair of soft warm lips pressed to his own.
Instinct took over, and before long, they were making out, going at it full force. When Frodo had laughingly suggested trying to find a room for the night, he’d eagerly agreed. At least Frodo had had the common sense not to allow them to bed down here in the middle of the woods. Why, Merry wasn’t a common trollop to engage in pleasure out where anyone could see them, hear them. They’d packed up camp and wandered for a time to a small inn at the edge of the woods. The walk had sobered Merry some, but not enough to bring him to his senses, it seemed. When they got to their room, he quickly took Frodo into his arms, kissing him deeply, lost in the feelings and the fine daze of the alcohol.
Before he knew it, they were both naked, laying together on the comfy soft bed and kissing deeply still, tongues intertwined. Oh, but he’d never felt so wonderful, so overwhelmed, so in awe, so… wow. Frodo, he figured, must have had many lovers to know how to kiss so well. Merry was butter in his hands, body limp and pliant, save for one bit of him. Oh indeed one bit of him was rock hard and weeping.
Soon, Frodo had found that one bit of him, and was stroking him teasingly slow. It was torture, just as Frodo had meant for it to be. Before long, Merry was begging. He couldn’t be sure what he was begging for, but he was begging all the same. Frodo had smiled at him, winked playfully, and moved to lick around his tiny entrance carefully. He was gentle with him, cautious not to hurt him, but Merry was too lost in it all to notice. He was in heaven, the feeling driving him nearly to climax several times over, but without touch upon his weeping member, his body couldn’t let go.
When Frodo pulled away and leaned over him, he couldn’t even fathom what was to come next. He knew what lads could do together, of course, but his mind wasn’t with him in that moment, and it slipped even more so when Frodo’s talented lips and tongue found his sensitive neck. All he could feel for a long moment was a pleasurable sharp tingle that seemed to run from his neck all the way to his toes. Then he seemed to come to, at least somewhat, as Frodo gently pushed into his virginal entrance. Even with Frodo’s careful preparation, and his gentle manner, it hurt. Merry couldn’t help tensing, and his hands went to Frodo’s shoulders.

“It hurts…” He’d managed to mumble, and Frodo nodded, kissing his cheek and whispering to him. “It’ll feel better. I promise. Relax.”

Before long, they were at it hard and heavy. Frodo seemed a pro at this too, and Merry couldn’t believe how he was making him feel. Where there had been pain, there was now overwhelming, searing pleasure. With every thrust, Frodo seemed to find a sweet spot inside him, and Merry cried out each time, body tensing. Towards the end, Frodo seemed to lose track of being gentle. Indeed, he went hard enough to roll them both from the low bed. Still, he never once stopped. Merry found himself belly down on the floor, Frodo thrusting into him hard, groaning above him. Merry was helpless and loving every moment of it. He felt Frodo drive deep into him, and again he found that sweet spot, then it was too much for Merry. He screamed as he came, his seed spilling over the hard floor under him. Frodo climaxed with him, spilling deep inside his friend and now his newest lover.
Merry couldn’t believe the warm rush as Frodo filled him. It felt wonderful, and for a brief moment, Merry blacked out. He never heard Frodo’s low sex song as he emptied himself into him, nor did he feel him when he pulled out and lay down beside him. When he came to, he was curled up against his side, warm, filled, and exhausted. He couldn’t help drifting into sleep there beside him, the whole thing still not quite registering to his drunken mind.

Oh but it registered now. Now, he remembered what they’d done, and he remembered why he’d always been told he couldn’t lay with another man. It was the same reason he’d likely never father a child with a lass. He was male, yes, through and through, but his genes made it so that he could conceive. It was a well kept secret that most of his family could conceive but not get a woman with child. There were exceptions, of course. Merry himself was born of a woman, and proud of it. But it was possible and even probable that he was with child now, after their night of drunken bliss.
The thought sent a chill of fear through him, and before he could stop himself, he was up and running for the restroom. His almost violent retching was enough to wake Frodo, and the hobbit was up and at Merry’s side in no time, apparently not noticing in his fog that they were both nude. He was rubbing Merry’s back and speaking soothingly to him when that thought dawned on him, bringing with it memories of their night together. Oh gods. He’d seduced Merry! He knew better than to turn friends to lovers. Oh… where were they to go from here?
He helped Merry, now rather weak from being so sick, back to the bed, laying him down gently. He noticed how Merry winced as he moved, and, remembering again how wild he’d been, he felt awful. Of course, he’d have felt awful anyway, for the pounding in his head. They silently agreed the shire could wait another day, and vowed to rest here for a time. Frodo climbed into the bed with Merry, and after a long hesitation, he drew him into his arms. Merry tensed, but allowed it, yawning and cuddling against him some after a moment.
His mind was racing, despite the near crippling headache. He just knew he was with child. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. And he knew as well that Frodo had no idea. He wouldn’t tell him now though. Not until he was sure. No. Still, he had to say something, and he tried to think of the best way to put what was in his mind. But, Frodo beat him to it, whispering so as not to make the pain in both their heads even worse.

“What happened last night… it doesn’t change anything, right? We’re still friends, aren’t we? I… I’m sorry I hurt you, Merry… I got carried away… I didn’t mean to…”

Merry sighed, only half hearing Frodo’s words. Still friends. What he heard was ‘just friends’ and with all that had happened, it just didn’t sit right with him. There was very likely a child now, if not twins or more, and here he felt Frodo wanted only friendship. What was he to do? But of course, he nodded to him, saying softly,

“We’ll always be friends, Frodo… as for hurting me… it’s supposed to hurt the first time. It’s not your fault… and I enjoyed it… so don’t feel guilty. I’m… I’m fine with it. Really…”

Frodo stared at him for a long moment before realization shone in his bright blue eyes. “First time?” he asked, frowning. Merry nodded his reply, trying not to think on it too much, and Frodo went silent. He seemed to be feeling worse now; his guilt almost palpable, and rather suddenly he clutched Merry closer, all but smothering him as he hugged him. His voice was thick with emotion, but he managed to say what was on his mind.

“Oh, Merry, I’m so sorry… You’re first time shouldn’t have been like that, with the two of us drunk out of our minds. You’re my friend and very dear to me. I shouldn’t have…”

But he was silenced when Merry kissed him. It was a gentle kiss, Merry showing that all was forgiven, and was perhaps the first truly meaningful kiss they’d shared. Merry let his hands come up to rest lightly on Frodo’s cheeks, holding the kiss for a long moment and letting his own baby blues drift closed. When he finally broke the kiss, he seemed perfectly calm. Frodo, on the other hand, was perfectly confused. That hadn’t been a kiss of lust, as so many last night had been. It was tender, a kiss of, dare he say it, love.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Frodo… I wanted it… whatever the consequences; I’ll never regret what happened between us. It was my first time, yes… but I wouldn’t have wanted it to be anyone else. I’ve been with women, Frodo… just that last night was the first time I was with another lad… There’s nothing to forgive, my friend. Don’t feel guilty. Last night was… I loved it, Frodo. It’s okay…”

He sighed, cuddling him close and trying to think through it. If there was a child, and he was near certain there was, it was a blessing. He’d have to tell Frodo… eventually. But he’d raise the child with love, and would cherish the little life within. He couldn’t look at this in a negative light. Everything happened for a reason… perhaps the reason behind this was to allow him the child he’d always hoped for. He couldn’t have had a child with a lass… But this way, he could still have a son or daughter of his own.
He and Frodo agreed not to speak of it again, and slept most of the day away, trying to rid themselves of the hangovers and the stress of this new relationship. They set out the next morning for home, and all seemed back to normal, they talking like old times and joking with one another. Merry was glad of that. He could pretend it had never happened. Everyone was thrilled to see them back, finally. They were alive and well, had survived the quest, but of course Sam and Pip had told everyone just that, explaining that Frodo and Merry had simply wished more time to recuperate amongst the elves.
It was mostly true. They’d wanted more time to recover from the long quest, yes. But, there was more to it then that. Frodo was still fighting a lot of things, still had nightmares Merry could only guess at, still was troubled deeply, and he needed more time. Merry, after all this time, couldn’t and wouldn’t leave his side. So, they stayed, and they had the time they needed, Merry often times staying with Frodo through the night and talking with him into the wee hours of the morn. It seemed to take awhile, but after a time Frodo seemed to be back to his old self again. Merry was thankful for that, having grown to miss his old friend. The rough bit of it was that Merry was falling for him and falling hard. He’d never admit it, of course, because he couldn’t ruin the friendship they shared.
But now he couldn’t help feeling he’d done just that. He was sure that, even though they weren’t talking about it, things had changed a great deal. Would Frodo expect him to lay with him again? Did he love him in return, or had he just been drunk? Would he tell anyone what had happened? Would he love the child, or turn them both away? So many questions ran through Merry’s mind, and no answers seemed forthcoming. He decided to just leave it alone, and pretend it hadn’t happened for now. If it came up again, or it proved true that he was with child… well, he’d handle it then.

Everyone seemed thrilled to see them back, and many of the coming nights were spent regaling friends and neighbors with stories of their travels and adventures. As expected, Frodo was hailed as a hero, and many parties were thrown in his honor. Merry was more than happy to attend the parties, and indeed he saw Frodo as a hero too, but many of their acquaintances found it very odd that he no longer drank. Merry was sort of known for it. The only one that hadn’t cornered him about it was Frodo, but by the third party, even he came to ask after him.
Merry had been sitting at one of the many benches around the party tree, curled up some and lost in thought. He was wringing his hands, as he often times did when he was stressed, and after a time, Frodo couldn’t ignore it any longer. He weaved his way through the crowd and crouched down next to Merry on the bench, putting a hand ever so gently on his shoulder and asking in a near whisper.

“Where were you just now, old friend?”

Merry jumped, having been lost enough in thought not to hear him approach. The hand on his shoulder should have roused him from his thoughts, but it hadn’t, and when finally he heard Frodo’s soft, concerned voice, he reacted as if he’d touched a live wire. He spun on him, eyes wide, but upon seeing it was just Frodo, he seemed to calm. After a moment, he sighed, leaning against him some and shaking his head, replying in an equally soft voice.

“I… don’t know… I was just… thinking… are you enjoying the party?”

He sat up now, forcing a smile, playing the game. ‘See? I’m fine.’ But of course he wasn’t, and Frodo saw right through it. Shaking his head, he sighed, answering softly as he moved to take Merry into his arms once more, cuddling him close.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not I’m enjoying myself. My best friend is here and he’s not enjoying it, so I’m here. What’s on your mind, my friend? Is this about the other night?”

Merry didn’t want to talk about it, wanted to pull away, but he seemed unable to do so, and unable to stop the tears that came. Before long, he was sobbing, and Frodo, without hesitation, picked him up and carried him back to Bag End and right into his bedroom. He set him down on the bed, then joined him, holding him close while he sobbed still. It took nearly twenty minutes, but with time, Merry calmed down. He finally pulled back from Frodo, blushing, embarrassed. Frodo just wiped his cheeks gently, as he asked softly,

“What’s on your mind, Merry? Why were you crying?”

“I… I don’t know… I just… I don’t know… there’s a lot weighing on me… what we did the other night… we can never do that again, Frodo… it’s… it’s too risky.”

Merry looked awful, drained to the point of exhaustion, but still he tried to think of how to explain. It had been only 6 days since they’d slept together, and he was now near certain he was with child, though he couldn’t explain why he felt so sure. He’d had a few aches and pains, at times, and had been sick twice, but that wasn’t what cemented the belief in him. What it was, he couldn’t say. Just a knowledge, an air of certainty in his mind. He had to tell him, had to explain, but he couldn’t until he was sure. After a moment, he decided it was best to put his feelings and thoughts out there, as best he could, only holding back about the baby.

“Frodo… I was always told not to lay with men. That if I did… that something… well, something could happen to me. Something I… I don’t think I could deal with on my own… I….. I love you, Frodo. More than I can ever say. I so wish I could be with you, lay with you every night, hold you close and hear you tell me you love me, and just… be with you… but I can’t… and I know you wouldn’t want that. You could have any lass in the Shire… What would you want with me? I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said all that… but it can’t happen again… it may be too late, but we just… it’s too dangerous…”

Frodo sat in stunned silence for a moment, frowning, and Merry moved to stand, to leave. What he hadn’t counted on was that his changing body couldn’t handle him getting so worked up very well, and had a very interesting way of telling him enough was enough. No sooner had he stood, than he collapsed, dizziness rushing over him. He lay back on the floor, groaning softly, and shaking his head. Not now, not in front of Frodo. But, his body had its own ideas. He didn’t think he’d ever felt so bad in his life.
Frodo was at his side in no time, picking him up again and laying him back in the bed. He moved to lay beside him, quickly drawing him into his arms, and speaking softly to him.

“Calm down, old friend… I thought you’d passed out on me. You need to try and relax and rest. You’re clearly not well… Merry…. You love me? I… I don’t know what to say to that, to be honest. I never suspected… I never thought… I love you too, my Merry…. I was only afraid to say it. I didn’t want to push you away. Then… the other night… I was in my mind enough to know what we were doing… I should have stopped… but I… I wanted you so much. I wanted to feel your skin against mine, hold you close… even for just one night, I just wanted to be with you… I don’t want any lass, Merry. Have you ever seen me do more than dance with a lass? I… I’m not attracted to them, my friend. I want you… Now what do you mean it may be too late? That it’s too dangerous?”

Merry was still lightheaded and still felt sick, but he shook his head, unwilling to answer those questions yet. Instead, he said weakly,

“I can’t tell you… I just… it’s too soon. When I know for sure, I’ll tell you. I promise…… ohh gods…”

He was up out of the bed in a flash, rushing to the restroom and throwing up for the third time since they’d slept together. He hadn’t eaten much during the day, but somehow it seemed like it took forever for his heaving to stop. He was shaking hard by the time it stopped, and felt even worse. Frodo was there, wiping his face and mouth with a cool wet cloth and trying to calm him, flushing the commode and carrying him back to the bed. (a/n yes, I know they likely wouldn’t have had modern plumbing. It’s what I know though and it’s convenient lol bear with me, my readers ^_^)

Frodo gently laid Merry down, frowning thoughtfully as he looked over him. Something was clearly wrong with his dearest friend and lover, but he couldn’t guess at what. Indeed, even if he had been told then and there that he was to be a father, he’d not have believed it. Instead, his mind was wandering to illnesses, things that could be transmitted through sex. Was it possible that Merry had contracted something? And if so, did that mean Frodo needed to be worried as well?

Sighing, he cuddled Merry close, trying to calm them both. He tried to think of how to ask the questions that lay heavy on his mind, and finally managed in a soft voice to ask,

“Are… are you ill, Merry? In any way that could be… worsened by what we’ve done?”

He knew the question had come out wrong, and when Merry stiffened in surprise, he was quick to apologize.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. I just… what do you mean when you say it may be too late? I’m worried about you, love, and… I worry about myself as well. What’s wrong? Please tell me…”

Merry looked up at him with fear naked in his eyes. He looked as if he had been backed into a corner, and couldn’t stop a helpless whimper from slipping past his slightly parted lips. Frodo knew Merry would talk if he kept at him, but he wasn’t sure if he should push the subject or not. It was all too obvious Merry was terrified. What could be so bad that he couldn’t bear to tell him?

Merry finally pulled away from Frodo, silently leaving the room and going into the living room. He could almost picture Frodo looking on in confusion, but he didn’t turn back for now. Instead, he went to an overstuffed chair next to the fireplace and settled down into it, sighing deeply. He was deep in thought, trying to find a way to avoid telling Frodo the full truth, when the other hobbit came out to join him. He knelt before him by the chair, looking up at him expectantly. Merry felt trapped, and could do little more than stare at his new lover, mouth slightly open, though no sound passed his lips.

TBC…
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