InsaneJournal

Who: Frodo, Merrill, Varric, and Guest Appearance by Gandalf
What: At Frodo's birthday party, Merrill and Frodo discover they are going to be parents
When: Saturday Night
Where: Frodo's Home
Ratings/Warnings: PG. It's just sweet, is all.
Status: Complete



It was dark enough for the fireworks to begin, but there was still about an hour to go. The truth was that Frodo was not exactly sure what time it was. He’d left his phone locked away in his room. What was the point, it wasn’t working? Any everyone he knew was here.

He was holding Merrill’s hand, walking the path from the beach back to the house. It was a lovely clear night, a little on the cool side. They were heading back for jackets.

So far, fifty-five felt about the same as fifty-four. If anything, Frodo felt a little younger.

Merrill was feeling better than she had been this morning. She leaned against Frodo, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. They kept a slow, leisurely pace on the way back. She was glad they had a chance to enjoy the party, instead of making sure everyone else was taken care of.

"Are you having a nice time?" she asked, looking up at him.

Gandalf was doing some last minute checks on the fireworks. He raised a hand in greeting as they passed, giving Frodo a knowing and joyful look, before bending back over the fireworks. It would be a show to remember - he had to top off the fourth of July, after all. It was Frodo's birthday.

Varric had come alone. He'd have brought Helen, but the woman still wasn't feeling well and being stubborn as all hell. He was mostly here for Merrill. He was worried about her health too, but had some suspicions. Next thing, he thought, Hawke would get sick.

Actually, if Hawke got the sort of sick that Merrill was, he'd give Fenris a whole box of Cigars, and Hawke a little baby mage robe. For the luls.

He took a step onto the beach, passing the old man with the fireworks and smelling the distinct scent of cannibis. He then took a wide birth, because smoking and fireworks really shouldn't go together, and approached the happy couple.

Frodo hummed a contented note, and took a step that playfully knocked Merrill to the side. Gently, of course. He smiled broadly at Gandalf, and shook his head once he passed at the scent he carried. “Ah, Gandalf...”

He squeezed Merrill’s hand. “I’m having a wonderful time. This is the first year I’ve thrown a party for myself. Not having Uncle Bilbo around, it didn’t seem right. But... new families take shape.” He squeezed her hand again. Of course, he had no idea just how much a new family was taking shape, but he was only fingering the ring in his pocket.

"Well, I'm glad you did," Merrill said. "It's lovely. And wonderful to see you smile." She stopped, leaning in to place a kiss on his lips. "Happy Birthday, Frodo."

Then she spotted her good friend from Thedas. She turned, waving enthusiastically. "Varric!" she called, oblivious to the seriousness of Frodo's talk about 'family'.

"Merrill!" Varric embraced her, "You've done well for yourself. Bianca couldn't make it, I'm afraid, nor could Helen." He glanced at Frodo and held out his hand, "Varric Tethras, a pleasure to meet you."

Frodo laughed. “Oh goodness, you’re really Varric?”

"Yes," The short man replied, giving him a wink. "Contrary to popular belief, I actually do exist."

Merrill laughed, hugging Varric back. "Oh, alone tonight? You should take some food back to Helen," she encouraged.

She looked back at Frodo, grinning. "You're not going to ask him for an autograph, are you?"

Frodo was still chuckling. (And it was rare that he met a man shorter than he, too; he had to admit he enjoyed it a little when he did.) “Merrill says you’ve been writing my unauthorized biography.”

"If she can stomach it," He replied, chuckling. He was used to looking up at people. Varric was pretty sure if he ever turned into a dwarf he might actually gain an inch. "She has the flu." Varric folded his arms, "Oh yes, I've been writing a wonderful little biography. I've taken a few creative liberties of course."

"Oh, that's awful," Merrill said. "I hope she feels better soon. I've been a little under the weather lately, too." Something must be going around.

She had to shake her head a little at the mention of the biography. "Careful, dear. He might offer to do a reading."

Frodo brushed a hand through his dark curls. “Well, apparently Merrill has a secret desire that I should grow out my hair. Well, it’s not really a secret at all.” But when he turned to look at her, he frowned a bit. “You’re still not feeling well?”

"It would look good on you. Maybe some weights too." Varric winked, then turned to look at Merrill, "What's wrong, Daisy?"

"You're both ridiculous," Merrill said, tousling Frodo's curls. She liked his hair just as it was.

"Oh, off and on," she told Frodo, shrugging. "It's better now." She was surprised he didn't hear her in the bathroom that morning, though. "I've just had an upset stomach recently," she told Varric, not wanting either of them to fuss over her. "Just a little bug, I'm sure."

“Still from sick from the restaurant?” Frodo asked, though it sounded silly aloud.

"Hmm." Varric said thoughtfully. Oh Daisy, "How long has this been going on? Are you sure you shouldn't go to the doctor? Perhaps you've got a little parasite."

badabum!

"I don't think so," she told Frodo, tilting her head. "I didn't even eat anything there, remember?" She looked back at Varric. "Oh, hm. About a week, I think." Frodo was definitely going to fuss now.

“A parasite?” Frodo gasped, because he tended to overreact when Merrill’s health was concerned. A chill even went through him.

"What else could it be?" Varric asked, trying to keep a straight face. They were both very naive and very cute. He thought they fit together.

Merrill pat Frodo's arm lightly. "I'm sure it's not a parasite. Just a little flu, or something."

He frowned and tried to convince himself there was nothing to worry about. “But still, sick for a week, Merrill. I didn’t realize.”

"Not all the time," Merrill said. She hadn't really thought much about it. It wasn't as though she'd kept it from him on purpose. "It comes and goes. It really isn't that bad."

"How often? Any specific time of day is worse?" Varric casually asked, trying to push Merrill into having a realization. He rather wanted them to come to their own conclusions.

"You don't know that it's not a parasite."

"I'm not sure," Merrill said, frowning a bit as she thought. "The night at the restaurant, it seemed like it was the smell of the food. But it's been bad the past few mornings, too."

Merrill shook her head. "We should really just focus on the party, Frodo. We can worry about the doctor on Monday."

"Mornings, hmm?" Varric smiled mysteriously, then squeezed Merrill's shoulder, "I'll speak with you both in a little bit, I had a flash of inspiration and I need to write it down."

He turned, and made his way back towards the house.

Frodo lingered back, holding Merrill’s hand tight to keep her beside him. He found Varric rather... creepy, really. He felt very confused, and only know that he wanted to wait so that they wouldn’t have to walk beside him.

He felt bad about it, though. He and Merrill were old friends.

Merrill shook her head again, a little confused herself. “I feel like I’m missing something...” It wasn’t unusual, for being around Varric. She missed a lot of things in her dreams around Varric and Isabela, most of them dirty. She just wasn’t sure what this could be.

Once Varric was a “safe” distance away, Frodo gave a little tug on Merrill’s arm to signal that he was about to start walking, as well. The other hand was still in his pocket. And he tried to shake off the anxious feeling Varric had left behind for them, like a puzzle that needed solving. It was very strange.

Moments before, he had been forming a plan. To get the jackets, they would need to stop in the bedroom, which was one of the few private places in the house at present. There was a quiet balcony there, safe from dogs and every other potential interruption.

Frodo smiled to himself. He suddenly felt much better.

It felt like it was just on the tip of her tongue... Something she couldn’t quite reach. Then Frodo pulled Merrill back to reality. She shook her head a bit to clear it and walked along with him.

The house interior was as bright and as noisy as anything really could be, without being raucous. It really was an excellent party. Frodo was rather proud of himself for being able to pull it off, without Bilbo to do the bulk of the planning, as he typically did back in the day.

Varric had gotten himself a drink, and was perched in a chair, where he could watch the party goers, particularly Merrill, while he scribbled notes to himself.

Merrill was surprised at how many people there were. She recognized fewer than half. The ones she knew, she greeted happily as the pair made their way back to the stairs, stopping a few times to chat. Maybe it was all the talk of parasites, but Merrill was starting to feel a little queasy, though she tried to hide it.

Varric got to his feet when the two hosts headed upstairs, and made his way to the kitchen, searching for some tea he could bring Merrill to help her sickness.

Carlson was in the kitchen, where he belonged. It was the nicest room in the home, but maybe too nice. It seemed most were avoiding it, in favor of rooms with fewer things to break. Carlson was at the sink, cleaning a few things just to keep busy. It was far past his bedtime, but he was in a cheerful mood. He hadn’t seen the house this full in years.

"Hello, do you know where the tea is? Merrill's stomach is upset."

Carlson smiled a curious smile. He was a man of about the same age as Frodo, though he looked older; still, he had the eyes of someone who caught everything there was to see. They were sharp and crystal blue. “Oh, is it?”

"Oh yes. I think she has a parasite," the writer replied, a mischevious gleam in his eyes.

A parasite... Carlson laughed aloud, and quite loudly. He braced himself against the edge of the sink. “I believe you are onto something,” he said. With a little wave, he brought the man over to a cabinet, which he opened to reveal the tea. He fetched a mug from the next cabinet over. There was an Insinkerator, so no need to boil water. “Take your pick, sir.”

While Varric was busy, Carlson had produced a ring of keys. He walked to the other side of the kitchen and crouched down to unlock a cabinet. He returned with a white box. “Or maybe something more like this.” It was a pregnancy test.

Varric chose the ginger tea, and set it to brewing. He eyed the test, letting a grin cross his face, "The blunt approach, then?"

“Well, I figured I’d pick one up, just in case, you know?” He wasn’t sure if Varric would really take it along with him.

Filling the mug, adding some honey, and taking the kit, Varric saluted the butler with it, "Lets see how this goes."

Then he tucked the test into the inside of his vest pocket (because Varric was always well dressed) and made his way upstairs.

Once they'd gotten inside the bedroom, Merrill had taken a seat on the bed, feeling a bit woozy. She knew they were just there to pick up jackets so they could go back outside to watch the fireworks. She didn't want to upset Frodo's plans for his birthday. She already felt so warm, though, she was sure if she put on a jacket she would just be sick.

"Would we be able to see the fireworks from the balcony?" she asked. It wasn't the best option, she knew. She wanted Frodo to be able to enjoy his night with his guests, not locked in his room with his sick girlfriend.

Frodo had pulled his jacket from the closet. He looked out the enormous windows that were really sliding doors. “We could...” He took Merrill in over his shoulder. “Want to get away from the party for a while?” They were in the bedroom, after all.

"Well, no," Merrill said, feeling torn. "I like the party. It's wonderful. I'm just feeling a little bleh again. I just need a minute, I think."

Frodo scowled. He walked over and sat down on the bed beside her. She was looking a little pale again. Pale and green. He rested a hand between her shoulders and rubbed a few circles. “Oh, Merrill...”

Varric knocked on the bedroom door, and in an amused voice, said, "Are you two decent?"

“Decent?” Frodo repeated, a little confused. “Oh. Of course. Is that Varric?”

"Yes. I brought Merrill some tea, and something else."

"Oh, come in," Merrill called. Tea sounded nice. Then she looked at Frodo. "It isn't locked, is it?" She didn’t think they’d locked it.

Frodo shook his head.

Varric let himself in, walking over to the bed and handing the tea to .....Frodo.

Then he pulled out the test and held it out to Merill. He didn't say a word, and simply smirked.

Merrill's eyes widened as she looked down at the box. And it clicked into place. That's what Varric had been hinting at and she'd been missing. By the Dread Wolf, he was probably right!

Frodo reached out and took hold of the corner of the box, as if he was trying to get a better look or even to pull it out of her hands and examine it for himself. His mouth had gone completely dry and his hands were shaking.

Varric stepped back, still saying nothing. There were numerous quips he could make, but now was not the time for it. Okay. Maybe a little one.

"Not all parasites are unwanted."

Merrill stood up, taking the box. She was still struggling to find words. "I. Um." It didn't really matter what words she used to excuse herself, both men knew she was about to go pee on a stick. There wasn't an elegant way to put it.

"I'll be back," she said, vanishing into the master bathroom.

"So." Varric stuffed his hands into his pockets.

Now it was Frodo who felt woozy and had gone pale. He looked up at Varric, but seemed more to be looking through him. “So...”

Really, the elephant in the room was that Frodo and Merrill were A) Having plenty of sex; and B) Not as careful about it as they had believed. As a man who had managed to utterly fail to have sex until a few months ago, it was quite the turn of events to process.

"Have some of that tea, Beachboy," Varric said, chuckling. "I brought it for you, really. It might help steel your nerves. Maybe I should have spiked it."

The cup shivered in Frodo’s hands as he lifted it to his mouth. “Yes, perhaps you should have. That might do me some good now.” There was a glass container of some amber liquid on a table in the corner. Frodo nodded toward it. “In fact...”

Was this really happening? The room was spinning a little.

Merrill opened the door to the bathroom, standing awkwardly in the door frame. "It takes a few minutes," she said before anyone could get excited. She glanced at her watch for the fourth time in the past thirty seconds and took a deep breath.

"I didn't want to just sit in there." But she also felt a bit weird carrying the stick around, and she was nervous to leave it alone, so she ended up just standing in the doorway.

"Just don't stand up," Varric cautioned, walking over and getting the container, which he then poured some into Frodo's mug. To Merrill, he said, "Easy, it's going to take about ten minutes."

Frodo was sure that he would have a heart attack before ten minutes had passed. Was this really happening, he repeated to himself; Am I really here right now? It felt like his brain was trying to soften the edges of reality. The room was fuzzy now.

He was ten minutes away from being a father.

He gulped down his drink.

Varric glanced at Merrill, then at Frodo, not sure who needed the comfort most!

She pulled herself away from the doorway and over to the bed, sitting next to Frodo. Sitting down didn't make her feel any more relaxed, but it was better than standing the whole time. Merrill glanced at her watch again. Ten minutes. Okay. "Okay."

Frodo blinked his eyes to clear them. He stared down at the.... stick, thing... “And X means... negative?”

At that, Varric took the tea from Frodo and just handed him the decanter.

Merrill blinked down at it. She wasn't really sure what she wanted it to say, but she knew she didn't want Frodo to need a decanter to deal with it. Actually, she did know what she wanted it to say, but maybe she and Frodo were on different pages.

Either way, it was an awkward conversation to have in front of friends.

"Did you want it to say negative?" she asked cautiously.

It was a reasonable question. Frodo realized he was so anxious, that he had gone completely numb. He blinked a few times, and realized he wasn’t looking at an X.

Frodo took a cleansing breath. He shook his head. “No... I don’t... And I don’t think it is, Merrill. I think...” He was sounding more and more like himself as he spoke. He kept a death grip on the decanter, but the other hand slipped into hers. “You’re pregnant. Oh my...”

"We're having a baby," Merrill said to Frodo, a little breathless. Was it too early to get excited? They still had doctor's visits and planning and Oh god, they were having a baby!

Varric raised an eyebrow at them. Mission accomplished? "I take it you don't want to make an announcement at the party? I can have someone queue up an appropriate song."

He knew better though, and raised a hand, "Joking. I'll let you two talk." He backed out of the room, and headed downstairs, where he gave Mr. Butlerman a wink.

Frodo took another breath. He had joked with Merry so many times about Baggins Jr, and in all honestly, none of those comments had really been jokes. He had always wanted children. Very much so. But wanting and finding out it’s actually happening are two very different things. Frodo hadn’t been prepared, and he’d lost his head.

But now, he realized he was smiling. They were alone now. Frodo carefully rested the decanter on the floor and that hand moved to a position on Merrill’s belly.

He still didn’t seem to have words, yet.

Merrill laughed a little as Varric left, shaking her head. There was still a surreal quality to all of this. They could hear the music and chatter drifting up from downstairs, reminding them that the evening was going on around them, despite the life-changing news they'd just received.

Just then, the cracks and booms of the fireworks began. "Happy birthday, Frodo," she said, looking over at him lovingly.

It is was possible that he could chose one moment to live inside for the rest of his life, this might have been it.

He gulped and reached into his pocket. “Do you remember,” he began with a hoarse voice. “That I said that hobbits give gifts on their birthdays?”

Merrill nodded. She’d gotten him a gift anyway. She just liked giving him gifts, and she suspected the same was true of him. “I remember.”

He blushed a little. “Believe me, I really was planning to give this to you tonight anyway. Although I’m not sure it can top what you’ve just given me.” His other hand lingered around her abdomen for a moment before he slipped off the bed and lowered himself down to a single knee. He pressed the ring into her palm. “Merrill... Will you marry me?”

She wasn’t quite sure of the exact moment she’d realized what Frodo was about to do, but by the end of it, Merrill was blushing and smiling broadly. Her eyes didn’t even leave his to look at the ring before she answered. Merrill nodded. “Yes. Yes, Frodo, of course I will!”

Frodo was on his feet with the speed of a much younger man. He, very carefully, flung his arms around Merrill’s shoulders. “Well, put it on. Put it on,” he said, about the ring. “No, let me put it on...” And he gently pushed to down her finger.

Merrill laughed, looking down at the ring on her finger. "Wow," she said softly. "This is really happening?" She would ask if she was dreaming, but nothing in her dreams came close to as wonderful as this.

"We're getting married and we're having a baby."

“I was asking myself the same thing, when I was in that daze, a few minutes ago,” Frodo said. “Is this really happening?” His hand went back to her stomach again, even if there wasn’t anything showing. It was like he just didn’t want to break contact.

His smile stretched from ear to ear now. If his bewilderment had given her a scare before, there was no question as to how he felt now. “Oh, I hope it is. I hope I’m not about to wake up and realize it’s Saturday morning all over again.”

Merrill smiled. There was plenty of planning to do, but that could wait for another day. “Do you think your guests will be okay without you for a little while?” she asked. There had been a lot of emotion, excitement, and anticipation, and the bed was very inviting.

Between the fireworks and Varric to tell stories, surely the guests would be plenty entertained.

He nodded, already leaning in close to kiss her, his bride-to-be and the mother of his child. Personally, Frodo wasn’t planning to go back downstairs for the rest of the night.