Rating: R, for disturbing sexual imagery and language.
Disclaimer: Not true. Fiction.
Author's Notes: MST of the story Miracle Flutters, by QueenCria. Used without permission. Text blocks in italics are the original story. No parts of it have been altered, and it remains the property of the original author. I refuse to take credit for shite like that. MPreg Warning: The original fic is an MPreg, and this is one in parody.
Part Two: Palestine? Paladin? Oh, Peredhel!
SUGARYLIME and LEGOLAS have succeeded in restraining and hopefully impregnating ARAGORN. ARAGORN is none too thrilled at the prospect of motherhood, and sulks in his seat.
LEGOLAS: If you don’t stop pouting, I’m not buying you any popcorn.
ARAGORN: I don’t want any stupid popcorn. I want my masculinity back.
SUGARYLIME: You can hardly blame Legolas and me for that.
ARAGORN: What’s that supposed to mean?
SUGARYLIME: Everyone knows Arwen’s the one who wears the trousers in your household. It’s all we talk about when you’re not around.
LEGOLAS: When’s this next bit starting up? I need to run to the loo.
SUGARYLIME: Go on, you’ve got time. Just hurry it up.
A few minutes pass. . .
LEGOLAS: Alright. Let’s get on with it.
Author’s Note--I know I said that ‘Miracle Flutters’ was only going to be a short little fanfic, but all your wonderful reviews inspired me and I changed my mind. This one could probably be read as a completely separate fanfic and be a sequel, but it’s so much easier if they’re all kept in one place. So, I hope you like it and enjoy.
ARAGORN: Who’re the morons who told her to go on with this thing? They ought to be hunted and killed like the Orcs that they are!
LEGOLAS: At least you’re not the one- oh, yeah. How does it feel, King Boy?
ARAGORN: I think my ankles are swelling.
ARAGORN: This is only a seven-chapter story; we’ve got to speed things along.
SUGARYLIME: Right. So let’s.
Disclaimer--We all know the story, don’t own LOTR or Legolas or Aragorn, they all belong to Tolkien. I’m only borrowing them for my fluffy purpose.
Warning--Like before, this will include mpreg and slash, so if you no like, you no read. And please no flames. All flames will have a choice of either being sliced to bits by Anduril and then fed piece by piece to the Wargs, or being cast into the fiery chasm from whence they came.
LEGOLAS: Oh, how original. Let’s bite off some Tolkien, chew it up, and then spit it back out as a barely-recognisable mish-mash of words to suit our filthy purposes. That’ll keep the Tolkien Purists away for sure!
A Father’s Words
Legolas lay in bed, absently rubbing his hand over his swollen stomach. At just over six months along, he was already nearly as big as most elves right before they gave birth. Aragorn had jokingly suggested that perhaps there might be two of them nestled in his womb, but Legolas assured him there was only one. A little known fact about elves is that when they are pregnant, they can hear their child’s heart beating in time to their own.
SUGARYLIME: It boggles the mind.
LEGOLAS: You’re telling me. All these things I’m learning about my own sodding species.
ARAGORN: Little bastard just kicked me!
SUGARYLIME: That was me, sorry. Leg cramp.
The last few weeks had been hard on him. Gondor was in the throes of one of the hottest Julys they had ever seen, which was uncomfortable for everyone; especially Legolas who was prone to being too warm and was naturally more sensitive to temperature changes. Plus, the baby seemed to have decided that night was day and day was night, for she slept and was still during the sunlit hours, while moving and kicking during the night. Legolas had gotten very little sleep as a result and was tired. But he had discovered that rubbing his stomach helped her to settle down. Sometimes.
The baby gave a particularly strong push and Legolas dropped his hand with a sigh. It seemed that tonight would just have to be a restless one. And a hot one. Too hot really to be wearing the white sleeping tunic.
“Modesty is overrated.” he murmured to himself as he pulled the tunic off and left it in a crumpled heap on the floor.
“Are you trying to tell me something, my love?” Legolas turned to see Aragorn leaning in the doorway of their chambers. He too was dressed in far less than normal. Only a pair of old leggings cut off at the calf.
“No, Estel. It is just so hot and she won’t settle down tonight.”
SUGARYLIME: So, how do you know this little Arsebaby is a girl? Tolkien was a tad vague on ultrasound technology in the Fourth Age.
LEGOLAS: A little known fact about Elves is that the pregnant male ones can tell the sexes of their babies by reading tea leaves.
LEGOLAS: No, you moron, I was being facetious!
ARAGORN: Could someone get me some chips? With caramel on them? Not too salty, though. I have to watch my salt intake.
SUGARYLIME: You don’t have to be such an arse about it. How was I to know?
ARAGORN: Hello? Chips? Anyone?
LEGOLAS: You’re pregnant, not dead. Get them yourself.
ARAGORN: I don’t want them anymore anyway.
SUGARYLIME: Oh, for fuck’s sake. Wait- is Legolas naked?
ARAGORN: Oh, yeah. Yeah, he is. Wow.
LEGOLAS: I’m too sexy for my tunic, too sexy for my tunic- er, yeah. Ahem. Carry on.
SUGARYLIME: And you do a little turn on the catwalk! On the catwalk!
ARAGORN: Don’t make me laugh so hard! I have to pee! Oh, too late.
LEGOLAS: These boots are new! You’re paying the dry cleaning bill, you know.
SUGARYLIME: It’s not his fault you’re too cheap to pay for the ScotchGuarding.
LEGOLAS: Nevermind. I’ll just get a new pair tomorrow.
ARAGORN: But you’ll have our baby to provide for. You can’t just go shoe shopping when it suits you.
LEGOLAS: You’re a king, for fuck’s sake! You’ve got money. You don’t need mine.
ARAGORN: Deadbeat dad, are you? Well, we’ll see about that.
“Perhaps I can try. Lay back, my love.” Legolas slid down and Aragorn sat crossed legged on the bed and began to rub his calloused hands across the smooth skin of his stomach. Almost instantly Legolas felt his eyes grow heavy and the baby seemed to calm. In a few moments he was fast asleep, his eyes half lidded.
Legolas awoke to the soft, deep sound of Estel’s voice. Is he speaking to me? Legolas wondered, but he realized that he wasn’t merely speaking, he was singing. A lullaby that Legolas had hear many, many times in his life. His own nanny in Mirkwood had sing it to him. Legolas let the familiar melody wash over him and was drifting to sleep, when the baby gave a strong kick. He sighed mentally, preparing to wake, when Estel’s hand came down on his stomach and began to rub it gently.
“There, there, little one. Calm down. You don’t want to wake your ada.” The baby kicked again, though not as strongly as before.
“That’s better, little one. We both love you more than life, but you have been making it very difficult for your ada to get any rest these past few weeks. I know he doesn’t mind a great deal, but he needs his strength for you.” The baby gave only the smallest kicks, like the flutters Legolas had felt when she first began to move.
SUGARYLIME: I’m confused. If Aragorn’s the ada, and you’re giving birth to this thing, how the hell are you the ada too?
LEGOLAS: It makes about as much sense as me being preggers in the first place.
ARAGORN: What about me?
LEGOLAS: You’re only pregnant for demonstration purposes.
ARAGORN: And what, exactly, is it meant to demonstrate?
SUGARYLIME: How not sexy it is for a man to be pregnant.
ARAGORN: Legolas is doing a fine job of that on his own. What the hell did you need me for?
LEGOLAS: Ever since you told Faramir that I wasn’t a natural blond, I’ve been upset with you.
SUGARYLIME: But you are a natural blond.
LEGOLAS: Faramir doesn’t believe me.
SUGARYLIME: Show him.
LEGOLAS: He won’t do it with the lights on.
SUGARYLIME: Oh. Huh.
ARAGORN: So that’s what this is about? That was ages ago!
LEGOLAS: Elves never forget.
SUGARYLIME: That’s elephants. Elephants never forget.
ARAGORN: And yet Faramir won’t believe he’s a natural blond.
“Your Aunt Arwen told me that you can hear what I say, even now.” the baby pushed softly and Aragorn laughed. “So it is true. Well then I shall tell you a story, perhaps then you will go to sleep. What story shall I tell? Hmm, ah I know. This is the tale of Green-Leaf and Hope’s daughter.
LEGOLAS: Oh, for the love of all that is sacred.
ARAGORN: Oh, shit. I’m going to puke!
SUGARYLIME: Morning sickness?
ARAGORN: No, the story!
LEGOLAS: Hey! Watch the boots!
Once upon a time, many years ago, in the ages when all the people of Middle- Earth were still friends, there lived a King named Hope and his Prince, Green-Leaf. In those times love of this kind between two males was not common and not looked upon with favor. But Hope and Green-Leaf were so deeply in love that they braved the words of men, words that sprang from fear. And in time, the people of Middle-Earth came to respect and accept their love. And when Hope was made king with Green-Leaf as his prince consort, the kingdom rejoiced.
SUGARYLIME: Oh, the persecution! Oh, the bigotry! Oh, the politics!
LEGOLAS: Shut up. You’ve no idea the sort of prejudice gay Elves face in Arda.
LEGOLAS: Hah! Sucker!
They were very happy, little one, but all was not perfect. Hope came from a line of very long lived people and Green-Leaf would live as long as he, but some day they would die. And the kingdom would need and heir. King Hope remembered a legend he had heard in his youth, telling the tale of two Kings in a similar situation and how Valar had blessed one with a womb in which to carry a child. Hope and Green-Leaf went to Hope’s foster father and asked him if this could be done for them.
ARAGORN: How clever is she to use the Westron for Estel and Legolas?
SUGARYLIME: I’m thinking she’s quite clever. No-one will ever know who she’s talking about!
LEGOLAS: So, wait. I’ve got to trade my bits in for one of those vile things you’ve got to pack around between your legs?
SUGARYLIME: It’s called a vagina, Legolas. And I don’t ‘pack it around.’
LEGOLAS: I know what it’s called, I just don’t want one.
ARAGORN: Would you rather push that squalling brat out your bum like I’ve got to do?
LEGOLAS: Neither choice is the least bit appealing.
Lord Peledhin did help them and a short time later, Green-Leaf realized that he was with child. All the people of the land held celebrations in honor of the forthcoming heir. Hope and Green-Leaf were thrilled and as each month passed, the child grew bigger and stronger. From the first flutters of movement, to the last moment’s of being within Green-Leaf, Hope and Green-Leaf cared for her like a precious jewel.
SUGARYLIME: If she’s talking about Elrond, he’s called Elrond Peredhel. Where the hell did she come up with Peledhin?
LEGOLAS: Her arse. Same place Aragorn’s going to come up with his baby.
ARAGORN: Our baby, Legolas. You had a part in this too.
LEGOLAS: Blah, blah, blah. Baby Mama Drama. Yannowamsayin’?
SUGARYLIME: Calm down, Ali G.
LEGOLAS: Aiight, biotch.
SUGARYLIME: I mean it. We’ve got a task at hand here, people.
SUGARYLIME: Fine. Person and Elf. Let’s get back to it.
When the child was born, again, all the people’s of the land celebrated. She grew, tall and strong and beautiful. She was constantly in the glow of her parent’s love. And when the time came for her to be queen, she became the greatest ruler that land had ever seen.” Estel stopped and gently rubbed Legolas’s thinking.
“Did you like it, little one?” The baby moved slightly. “I’m glad.”
Aragorn paused again, then seemed to make a decision. He gently leaned over and brushed the lightest kiss across Legolas’s swollen stomach.
“I can hardly believe how much I love you already, little one.” Aragorn rubbed his hand and then began to sing again.
ARAGORN: I rubbed Legolas’ what?
SUGARYLIME: His thinking. You know, that thing of his that you’re rubbing.
ARAGORN: Oh . . . kay.
LEGOLAS: How many times can she describe my stomach as swollen? I mean really. If I’m six months in, isn’t it obvious I’m going to have a swollen fucking abdomen?
SUGARYLIME: Not to mention your thinking. All that rubbing Aragorn’s doing, it’s bound to be swollen as well.
ARAGORN: That was just stupid.
SUGARYLIME: Well, I’m sorry. We all can’t be as witty as you.
ARAGORN: Don’t I know it.
Lay down, Your sweet and weary head Night is falling, You have come to journey’s end Sleep now, Dream--of the ones who came before They are calling, From across a distant shore Why do you weep?, What are these tears upon your face Soon you will see, All of your fears will pass away Safe in my arms, You’re only sleeping What can you see, On the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, A pale moon rises. The ships have come, To carry you home And all will turn to silver glass, Lights on the water, All souls pass Hope fades, Into the world of night Through shadows falling, Out of memory and time Don’t say, We have come now to the end White shores are calling, You and I will meet again And you’ll be here in my arms, Just sleeping What can you see, On the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea, A pale moon rises. The ships have come, To carry you home And all will turn to silver glass, Lights on the water Gray ships pass, Into the West
SUGARYLIME: This bastardisation of Annie Lennox’s Into the West has been brought to you by the good folks at This Girl Sucks, Let’s Kill Her. Thank you.
“You should sing more often, Estel. You have a lovely voice.” Legolas whispered, the lullaby had worked on both him and the baby. Estel smiled and leaned over to kiss Legolas.
“What shall I sing for you, my love?” He asked, as he lay down next to Legolas.
“Another lullaby, to whisk me to the shore of Dreams.”
Estel began to sing again and Legolas drifted to sleep, his tale still echoing in his mind.
Hush my love, now don’t you cry Everything will be alright Close your eyes and Drift in dream Rest in peaceful sleep...
ARAGORN: Is it over? Can we leave?
SUGARYLIME: Five more chapters. You’ll make it. Why don’t you and Legolas go have a nice dinner, on me?
LEGOLAS: A tenner will hardly buy a nice dinner.
SUGARYLIME: Look, you ungrateful twat. I make £5.00 an hour. I barely work thirty hours a week. Take it or leave it.
SUGARYLIME: Now go on. I’ll finish up here. And you’re welcome.
PS- I hope you liked it. I forgot to put this in the disclaimer, but the first song is Into the West, by Annie Lennox and the second song is Lullaby, by Creed.
Please review? More reviews = happy author = faster update
Less reviews = depressed author = slow update
SUGARYLIME: Creed suck. Goodnight!