FRODO/GANDALF---MPREG WARNING

Frodo sat back down on the cart bench beside Gandalf with a thud, gasping as he 
regained control of his stomach. He’d just been quite violently ill. 

The wizard leaned over close and eyed Frodo’s pale face, allowing him to draw 
near and rest his cheek against the silvery softness of Gandalf’s beard.

“Have you been feeling ill in the mornings, Frodo? Off your food, which is very 
unusual for a hobbit?”

“Um, a bit, I guess.” Frodo tried to be vague, because his symptoms couldn’t 
possibly be what he suspected. He was a male and it was just impossible! 
Although he *had* lain with the wizard during Gandalf’s visit three months 
earlier, and what if the Istari possessed special reproductive powers . . . 

He started, however, when Gandalf reached out and laid a hand on Frodo’s belly, 
the wizard’s eyes going distant for a moment. “It’s not a good time for Bilbo to 
leave, is it?” Gandalf asked softly. “And I fear that my errands will take me 
elsewhere for the next few months, just when you will need me the most.”

Frodo stared at his lover. “You can’t think . . . ”

“I do not think, I know. You carry my child, Frodo Baggins.”

****