12. 23. Halimath 1368
23. Halimath 1368
It seems I have waited a lifetime for this moment and now I have you, wrapped in a blanket, lying in my arms, asleep. Tiny flecks of sunlight dance on your rosy cheeks, but if this fine morning's first light had not reflected on your face, I would not even have realised it was day. Your sweet face, tiny little nose, chubby cheeks and rosy lips enchant me, but your eyes, hidden now by dark long lashes, are astonishing. I wonder if they will remain the way they are and whom you have gotten them from. My mother had a hint of blue in her eyes, but they were far from the sparkling shade that smiles at me when you wake; a blue like the sky of the first clear spring morning after a long grey winter.
I cannot stop caressing your small hands with their tiny but strong fingers and playing with your small, naked feet and your ticklish toes. Even as you sleep, my fingers gently brush the soft skin of your cheek.
Your breathing is soft and I have fallen in love just with the sound of it. My dear little son, how much I love you! I could spend the rest of my life watching you, holding you close, and never grow tired of it.
My little child - my Frodo - I have longed for this moment! I still cannot believe it is true. Is it indeed you I have carried inside me for nine months? Is it you I have felt struggling and kicking? Are you mine or is this all a dream and I will be alone again once I wake up?
"Primula, dearest, are you all right?" Gilda's voice is hushed but startles me nonetheless. You react at once, furrowing your brow and opening your mouth to protest, but the blanket of sleep closes you in before you find the voice to cry.
"Yes," I whisper, not taking my eyes from my child. I take a deep breath, leaving the wordless conversation with my baby behind and facing Gilda and the world around me. "I was lost in thought."
"Troublesome thoughts, I fear," she says, concerned, as she sits down on the bed beside me and wipes a tear away from my cheek.
I shake my head and smile. "Nay, my friend. These are tears of joy, for I still cannot believe this blessing is mine." She returns my smile as I go on. "I was talking to him, but only in my mind for fear of disturbing his precious sleep."
"I doubt his sleep would be so easily disturbed," Gilda assures me as she has a look at my little one. "Did you tell Drogo that you hadn't a name for Frodo until you actually saw him?"
"He would've been appalled!" I tell her and chuckle. "He had given so much thought to a girl's name; it would have shocked him if I'd admitted that 'Frodo' was simply the first thing that came to my head when I saw my baby."
She laughs. "Maybe you'd better wait some time before telling him then." Somebody knocks at the front door and Gilda lifts her head, surprised. "I hope the two of you are ready for your first visitors," she says.
"I think we are quite ready," I nod, smiling, as she gets up to greet our guests. I brush my hand through my son's thin, silken curls. They are the same colour as Drogo's. "Don't you worry, Frodo, my dear. Even if you should sleep through the family get-together, you will have plenty of time to see them again. You have to know, your uncle Bilbo has asked after you several times already, being even more eager to see you than anyone else. Your uncle is a queer fellow, little one. He is full of tales and nonsense. I think you will like him, but if you are like your mother, you will soon have enough of nosy relatives. Still, if those are the worst of your worries, then your life shall be a happy one indeed. You just sleep on, my dear, your mommy shall see to the rest."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.