The Secret

TITLE: The Secret
AUTHOR: GW Katrina
BETA: Rebecca. Any mistakes are mine for not listening.
RATING: PG-13
PAIRING: None
DISCLAIMER: Don't own them. If I did.... *drools*
SUMMARY: The reason Frodo seems so different
NOTES: This is a none slash piece. Sorry if that offends anyone. 
Also, this is just what happens in my twisted little version of ME. 
*glares at muse* Someone, help me. Tell my sick little muse that I 
don't want to do a X-over between LotR and Matrix. *screams*


Primula Baggins was an extremely unhappy hobbit. Her 
husband, Drogo Baggins, whom she was going to kill 
when she got her hands on him, had promised to go 
mushroom hunting with her, but had never appeared.

Now, muttering angrily, Primula waddled down the path 
heading for home. Heavily pregnant, she looked like a 
large pumpkin, as she was dressed in a vibrant orange 
color.

So angry was she that she ran right into another 
hobbit, who had been admiring the woods. With yelps, 
they both fell, tumbling down the gentle slope. The 
pair slid to a stop, Primula on top, arms wrapped 
protectively around her stomach. Below her came 
muffled curses, some in another language.

The voice and the fact that a few of the words were 
elvish told Primula who she had crashed into. 

"Oh, Bilbo, I am so sorry," she cried, trying her best 
to move off her cousin. She wasn't very successful, 
since hobbits are round things anyway, and a pregnant 
hobbit was little more than a ball on legs.

Helping Primula up as best he could, Bilbo Baggins 
grinned. "That's quite all right, my dear. I was 
wondering who had walked into me, that's all." 
Together, they finally were able to get her on her 
feet. "Are you all right?"

Hands rubbing gently on her stomach, Primula 
nodded. "I believe so. My young Mr. Frodo seems to 
have slept right through everything." As she began to 
dust herself off, her bright brown eyes were glinting 
with mischief. "So you were wondering who walked into 
you, hm? Is that what those elvish phrases mean?"

Bilbo had the grace to blush, but held himself with 
dignity. A hand settled on Primula's stomach. "Still 
expecting a lad, are you? I know that Drogo has his 
heart set on a lass."

Brown eyes narrowed. "Well, I don't care what that 
husband of mine wants."

Blinking his own brown eyes, Bilbo hemmed and 
hawed. "Um, well, I, oh.... Let's get back onto the 
path, shall we. Are you sure you are all right?"

"YES!" snapped Primula, who then blushed. "I am 
dreadfully sorry, Bilbo. I am just very frustrated 
with Drogo. He promised to help me hunt mushrooms, but 
he never showed up. That's why I didn't notice you."

If she a comment from Bilbo, she did not receive one. 
Instead, Bilbo began to make his way up the hill to 
the path, keeping one hand on her arm as she followed. 
They were most of the way up when everything changed.

Unbalanced enough to lose her natural hobbit 
gracefulness, Primula slipped, once more falling into 
Bilbo. This time, however, her hand smacked his belt, 
leading to an unexpected result.

There was a thin chain attached to Bilbo's belt, and 
from that chain hung a golden ring. As Primula tried 
to regain her balance, her hand tangled in the chain, 
long enough for that small ring to slip onto her 
finger.

Primula gasped as everything around her changed. 
Shapes vanished, replaced by dark shadows. A roaring 
sound filled her ears. Over the roar, she heard Bilbo 
cry out in shock. Then he yelled something at her, 
something she could barely hear.

"TAKE IT OFF!"

For a split second, she did not understand what he 
meant. Take what off? Then something began to warm on 
her finger. Tearing her eyes off the terrifying 
scenery around her, Primula looked at her hand.

On the third finger of her right hand was a ring. A 
plain golden band that began to burn, as if she had 
thrust it into a fire.

With a cry, she grasped it, all too willing to rid 
herself of it. Even as she reached for it, the fire 
spiked up her arm. From there, it thrust deep, like a 
coal in her stomach.

This time she could only gasp, and within her swollen 
stomach, her tiny baby began to thrash. She could feel 
the kicks and twists as her unborn child seemed to 
fight something.

All at once, her vision returned to normal, the roar 
vanishing from her ears. In her hand was the golden 
ring, which she dropped. Both hands clutched her 
stomach as Bilbo snatched up the ring.

"You must be careful," he almost yelled, making sure 
to securely place the ring in his pocket. "You never 
know when...." He broke off when she screamed.

Brown eyes shot from his pocket to his cousin, who was 
sinking to the ground, hands pressed against her full 
belly. "Something's wrong," Primula cried. Her eyes 
were filled with rising panic. "Something is horribly 
wrong."

Bilbo didn't question her. Hobbit lasses always knew 
how their babies were, and when one said something was 
wrong, it was time to see the healer.

He had only taken one step towards her when Primula 
screamed again, her body tensing. "Oh, stars, Bilbo!" 
she whimpered. "I think my baby's dying."

Since the fire had struck her, Primula had felt her 
child struggling. Now, the movements were growing 
faint, and in her heart, she knew it for a fact it was 
because her baby was fading. More pain ripped through 
her, and the stricken hobbit passed out.

With a strength a Big Folk would be surprised at, 
Bilbo quickly lifted his cousin and hurried onto the 
path. From there, he ran as fast as possible to the 
closest healer.

As Primrose Took, the local healer, looked over 
Primula, the lass herself woke up, crying in pain. "My 
baby," she gasped, feeling another wave of pain streak 
through her body, and the life in her go a little 
stiller.

"There's something bad wrong," muttered 
Primrose. "You're bleeding heavily, and that's very 
wrong." Her eyes, full of worry, met Primula's. "You 
may lose him."

"NO!" screamed Primula, hand tightening on Bilbo's 
arm. The hobbit she clung to was slightly 
uncomfortable, since he had the sneaking suspicion 
that the ring he carried was the cause of this.

"You." Bilbo looked up and met Primrose's 
eyes. "You're friends with that wizard. He's down in 
Buckleberry, entertaining the littles." Primula gave a 
choked sob at the word 'littles'. "This is past my 
skill to fix. Past any in the Shire's, except, 
possibly, Gandalf's. You must fetch him, or else we 
might lose them both."

Seeing his cousin's pale face, and the blood staining 
the bed sheets a bright crimson, Bilbo left. Grabbing 
the fastest pony he could find, the hobbit rode hard. 
The poor pony was panting and white eyed by the time 
they came to a stop in a field outside of Buckleberry.

There was Gandalf, creating interesting things from 
smoke for the small hobbit children that surrounded 
him. When he saw Bilbo, and the blood staining the 
hobbit's shirt, the wizard stopped what he was doing 
and rushed over.

"Bilbo, what has happened?"

Panting almost as hard as his pony, Bilbo told Gandalf 
what had gone on. The wizard's eyes narrowed when he 
heard that Primula had accidently put on the ring.

"We must go to her, quickly," the tall man said, 
giving a sharp whistle. His horse, which had been 
grazing a the edge of the field, galloped up. Picking 
Bilbo up, Gandalf settled both of them securely on the 
horse's back, then they were off. Racing to save a 
hobbit and her baby.

The scenery blurred around them, but they were going 
too slow for Bilbo. It was his fault that his dear 
cousin was in such distress, that the first in the new 
generation of cousins might die before even born.

The horse was soon at Primrose's home, and Gandalf 
leapt from the horse's back and rushed to the door. 
Bilbo slid down with a bit more care, but soon hurried 
after his friend.

In front of him, Gandalf stopped to fast that Bilbo 
ran into him. Becoming wrapped in the man's robes, it 
took a minute for Bilbo to work his way loose. Once 
free, he peered around the wizard's legs, since 
Gandalf still stood in the doorway.

Someone must have found Drogo, since he was kneeling 
besides his wife, his hand in her white-knuckled grip. 
Primula's face was a mask of pain and worry, her lips 
grey. The dress she wore and the sheets she laid on 
were stained red, and in the corner of Bilbo's mind, 
he knew that if the baby still lived it was a miracle.

The rest of Bilbo's attention was caught by three 
tall, slender women, one in green, one in grey, and 
one in black.

Greenclad and black were next to Primula's head, each 
crooning soothing words, gently stroking her face, and 
generally keeping her attention on them, even when she 
flinched with new pain.

The one in grey was kneeling next to Primrose, both 
mumbling in the half words of well-trained healers. 
Blood was streaked across the stranger's forehead. 
Understandable, since she was stained to the elbows 
with it.

Primula screamed again, back arching. The one in grey 
cursed in a language that sounded almost elvish, then 
she looked at the other two. "She's losing him."

Both Drogo and Primula cried out, and Primula paled 
even further. "Please," she begged, tears streaming 
down her face. "Save my baby."

The three women, Bilbo suddenly realized, shared the 
exact same eyes. Deep blue eyes that seemed to glow 
with power as strange words spilled from their mouths. 
The chanting grew louder, and a unusual wind blew 
through the home. The woman in grey placed her hands 
on Primula's stomach, the one in green's hands rested 
on either side of the hobbit lass's face, and the one 
in black did something odd.

She began to weep.

"When I tell you," said the grey one. "I want you to 
push. Push as hard as you can." 

Nodding, Primula gritted her teeth, ignoring the pain 
that tore her.

"I warn you, this will hurt. Worse than now, for you 
will feel normal birth pain as well as these unnatural 
pangs."

Birth pains! Bilbo blinked and swallowed hard. He was 
a bachelor, as well as a gentlehobbit. He had 
never seen anything born. A part of him was screaming 
to run, but the rest of him was frozen.

A high-pitched keen worked its way through Primula's 
clenched jaw. Muscles rippled across her stomach, and 
more fluid rushed from her, heavily tinged with blood.

Bilbo felt the world dim for a second, then everything 
snapped back into focus as a large hand rested on his 
shoulder. Gandalf helped balance him, pale eyes 
focused on the scene in the room.

"Gandalf," Bilbo whispered, afraid to be louder. "Who 
are they?"

"Ones who can help you dear cousin far better than any 
other here," was Gandalf's quiet answer.

Before the slightly stunned hobbit could say anything 
else, a scream ripped through the air. Both hobbit and 
wizard returned their attention to the drama in the 
room.

"Push," cried the grey clad woman before chanting in 
the strange, fluid words. Curling upwards, Primula 
pushed as hard as she could. "Again," said the woman, 
shifting slightly, blocking the view of those in the 
doorway.

Even from where they stood, Bilbo and Gandalf could 
hear a moist, splitting noise. Once again, the world 
wavered around Bilbo, and he leaned against Gandalf's 
leg.

Greyclad woman turned to the ones by Primula's head. A 
tiny hobbit child seemed even smaller in her man sized 
hands. "Nienna, take him."

As the black robed woman took the small form, Primula 
felt tears stream down her face. Her baby, her Frodo, 
was so still, his skin pale and tinged with blue. 
Drogo's hand squeezed her's tightly. "He's all right," 
he murmured. "Isn't he, Lady?"

"He will be," answered the one called Nienna. As pale 
as the child she now held, Nienna's blue eyes wept 
more tears. They slid over high cheekbones, past full 
lips, and fell from her pointed chin. One, two, three 
tears landed on the still baby, and the blue seemed to 
melt from him, leaving his pale, but not deadly so. 
Still, the babe did not stir.

"What is to be his name?" asked Nienna.

"Frodo," whispered Drogo, hope rising in his pale 
brown, almost golden, eyes. Hope that as echoed in the 
deep brown ones of his wife.

Another tear spilled from Nienna's eye, and she caught 
in on her finger. "I name you Frodo, tiny one. Wake 
and accept." The tear-tipped finger slid between pale 
lips.

The hand on Bilbo's shoulder tightened almost 
painfully. When he looked up, the hobbit was surprised 
to see a look of total, dumbfounded shock on the 
wizard's face. "Ga...." Another squeeze, and Bilbo 
fell silent.

As the tear wetted his mouth, the baby, Frodo, 
swallowed and began to move. Primula cried out in joy 
and relaxed, her own tears turning to tears of 
pleasure.

The one who had played midwife placed her hands on 
Primula's stomach and spoke a few words. A faint glow 
seemed to spread through the joyful hobbit, but none 
were paying attention.

Nienna passed Frodo to the woman in green robes, who 
in turn pulled out a soft cloth from an inner pocket. 
With the green material, she wiped the child clean, 
speaking softly in the strange tongue.

Finally, Primula held her newborn son. "Hello, Frodo," 
she whispered happily. "I'm very glad to see you. So 
very glad."

At that moment, Frodo opened his eyes for the first 
time. Eyes the color of clear winter skies looked at 
her with amazing sharpness. "His eyes," Drogo said 
with surprise.

Primrose smiled as she looked over the new baby. "Aye. 
All hobbits are born with blue eyes. They'll turn 
brown quick enough. Don't worry."

The three strangers rose, making their way to the 
door. "Wait," called Drogo. "Is there nothing we can 
do to repay you? You have given us the greatest gift 
possible...."

"Not as great as you would believe," said the grey 
one. Her eyes were sad. "You shall never bear another 
child. Young Frodo was forced from you, and it tore 
you inside. He shall be your only one. I am sorry. For 
you to keep the ability to have children, Frodo would 
have had to perish before he was born."

"Then I am just as glad to have no others," said 
Primula, holding her baby close. "For I could no more 
lose my Frodo than lose my very heart. They are one 
and the same."

"Then may you be well protected," said the one in 
green. "May your family be blessed by love."

Before anyone could do or say any more, the three were 
gone. They slid out the door as if neither Bilbo or 
Gandalf were there, and vanished into the woods.

"Cousin Bilbo," laughed Drogo. "We have the tradition 
backwards." Bilbo tore his eyes from where the three 
strangers had vanished and looked at the new parents. 
Drogo's smile threaten to split his face in half. "For 
this year, you have recieve a present on your 
birthday."

With a start, Bilbo realized that Drogo was right. A 
chuckle rose from him. "Well, Frodo Baggins," he said, 
moving into the room next to the trio. "We will have 
to celebrate our birthdays together, someday."

No one noticed as Gandalf slid away. The wizard looked 
only a few minutes before he found what he was 
searching for.

"I had not expected to see you, my lady," he said, 
standing next to the black robed woman, Nienna. "May I 
ask why?"

A smile crossed her face, yet Nienna continued to 
weep. "We came for two reasons." A pause. "That ring 
you friend wears is very special. But should never be 
worn by a lass of any race. Why that is is something 
you should find out."

She laughed at Gandalf's expression. "You were always 
one of my favorites. I miss seeing you. Now, I must 
return home."

As she turned to leave, Nienna heard Gandalf ask 
something. "You said two reasons, Lady. One you refuse 
to give, but what of the second?"

"I am a mother. A mother who does what she can to 
protect all of her children." With that she vanished.

The three women smiled as Gandalf moved away, 
muttering about answers that made no sense.

"You know," started the one in grey. "That healer was 
wrong."

"How so, sister of my heart?" asked the one in green, 
who was bouncing in place.

"She told them young Frodo's eyes will change. 
They won't. He's been marked forever by what we did."

"It is all right," said Nienna. "It was that or we 
allowed the ring to steal innocent life from innocent 
life. That would have allowed Sauron to regain power, 
enough that he could free his dark master. Something 
that cannot be permitted. Ever."

"And as you told the wizard, we are mothers. What sort 
of mother would leave her child in pain if she could 
stop it?" said the grey one.

"Agreed," said Nienna. "Let us return home."

The three strangers vanished from Middle Earth.

The End

Hobbits