Authors Notes: As not many have written about Frodo and Elanor's relationship I thought I 'd follow that vein a little longer.

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     Rosie sighed and pushed her hair back in exhaustion fouled movements.  She was so tired. So very tired. Frodo's illness this fall had been the worst she had seen. Instead of the normal languid exhaustion and bad dreams that had always claimed him before Frodo was seized with a violent fever that had rapidly wasted his body and muddled his ability to tell dream from reality. Despite all of Rosie's shushing and Sam's soothing Frodo could not be calmed until he collapsed from exhaustion. Even in sleep he was restless, his shaking hands clawing at his neck until the skin had become raw from his raking. And no matter how much Rosie coaxed and pleaded with Frodo, he could not be convinced to take any food. Eventually Rosie had tried waiting until he had slipped back into a comatose sleep to offer him some food. But even then Frodo's body rather then his mind would not accept the nourishment.

     Rosie peeked out the window at the moon, now lazily traveling it's course across time and space. Rosie surmised that it must have been well past midnight. She had convinced Sam to go get some rest earlier in the night. Sam had been loath to leave Frodo for even a moment. He had been there all along bathing Frodo's face with cool water and holding him in his arms to keep him from falling off the bed, and trying to comfort Frodo when the nightmares had left him half mad with terror. It had all taken a toll on Sam and he had finally admitted how much he needed sleep when he had fallen asleep in his dinner that evening.

     Rosie smiled to herself, she could hear his snoring coming from down the hall. When they had first gotten married she had had trouble getting used to Sam's snoring. It had been rather annoying. But now, it was a comforting sound.

     Rosie was abruptly shaken from her reverie by the sound of Frodo whimpering in his sleep. She turned and saw that he was once again clawing at his neck and tossing his head slowly to and fro.

"Shush there, Mr. Frodo." She crooned as she gently pulled his hands away from his collar. Frodo began mumbling in his sleep about all too familiar terrors.

"Now there," Rosie continued as she felt Frodo's breathing becoming shallow and fast beneath her hands, "Your safe no one's going' to harm you."  But he was inconsolable. He began to sit up as he tried feebly to loose his hands from Rosie's light grasp. Rosie easily pushed him gently back down into the pillows and retained her grip on his hands. Frodo cried out forlornly in frustration and confusion. Some one was holding him down and he wanted to be up. Why were they doing that? He needed The Ring, but they kept him from it. They had him. Tears began to run to run down Frodo's cheeks as he sobbed, his cries becoming hysterical.

     Rosie felt like crying herself, seeing how confused and upset Frodo was at being stopped from getting out of bed. But she knew it was for the best. All she could do was wait for him to faint from the exertion.

      At that moment Rosie heard a small noise and looked up from the bed to see little Elanor, all of 4 years old, standing by the bed. Her golden curls had been plaited into one long braid that now hung down her back. She was clutching at the hem of her calico nightgown and staring at Frodo with eyes threatening to spill tears.

"Ellie, dear. What are you doing out of bed?" Rosie asked softly.

"I heard someone crying." Little Elanor replied, her voice quivering with emotion as she continued, "Oh, mamma! Why does he cry like that?"   

Rosie closed her eyes as she searched for the right answer. Opening them again she said, "Dear heart, he's crying because he doesn't know...he doesn't know what's happening. You see he's been having bad dreams and he thinks they're real. You know what that's like don't you my dear?"

Elanor nodded slowly and then as if a thought had suddenly entered into her head she brought her head up with a smile. "Mama!" She cried excitedly. "I could sing to him! He sang to me once when I had a bad dream."

Rosie smiled. "Oh, sweetie I don't know if a lullaby would help."

Elanor gave her a look that seemed to say "nonsense!" And without further ado, little Elanor hiked up her night gown and climbed onto Frodo's bed. She, a little clumsily, took his tossing head and settled it into her lap, and began stroking his sweat soaked hair with her plump fingers as she sang:

Hush baby.

"Mama?"  Frodo's fevered mind called.

Don't you cry.

"It's been so long."

 Go to sleep, little baby.

"Mama, the dreams are awful. I'm so afraid."

 When you wake, you shall have all the pretty little horses.

"Horses?" Frodo's mind grasped desperately at that word as he tried to find some memory of it.

A black and a bay

Riding in the meadow. Before. Before it had all happened. Before the world had gone wrong.

A dapple and a grey

He remembered! He remembered the feeling of the horse beneath him as the world flew by. He could feel his heart beating in rhythm to horse's gait. It felt like the heartbeat of the earth. It felt real.

Frodo's eye's drifted closed as he sighed in relief.

And a coach and six-a little

"Good night my love." Primula whispered as she left one lingering kiss on her son's fingers.

Horses.

 

       Rosie watched in astonishment as Elanor's nursery rhyme calmed Frodo's frantic movements. Elanor sat in silence a while until she was sure Frodo was soundly asleep. And then she slipped off of Frodo's bed letting her mother settle his head onto a fresh pillow.

Elanor smiled up at her mother. "He looks happy now."

Rosie looked wonderingly at her daughter, "Yes my dear. He looks very happy."

~Fin~