Chapter One: The First Night

Elrond came to the side of the bed as Glorfindel lay the stricken hobbit down. The first thing he noticed in wonder was the light shining from him, as though he was an Elven child. It shone brightly from within the darkness that surrounded him. He and Glorfindel shared a few voiceless words, then the Elf-lord bowed and left Elrond, who then noticed the three other hobbits who crowded around their wounded kin. They looked up at him beseechingly.

“You can make him better, can’t you, my lord?” they all asked at once.

“I will do my best, little masters,” Elrond promised gravely.

They turned their eyes back to Frodo who had not moved or made a sound since he had been brought in. Tears streaked down the cheeks of the other hobbits as they stood all around him, taking his hand, talking to him, trying to stay out of Elrond’s way, but remaining very close.

“You could help, if you’d like,” the Elf-lord said.

They looked back up at him. “Yes, please!” came the same chorus of voices. “What can we do?”

“There are some cloths on the table you could bring and water that is boiling. It will be too heavy for just one of you, but two of you could do it and the other could bring me the cloths.”

The smallest made it quickest to the large pot over the fire and lifted one of the handles. Another rushed to help and the third brought the thick cloths over.

“Take off his jacket and shirt, if you please,” the Elf instructed that one, “then place one of the cloths under his shoulder and another under his back and hip. I will have to re-open the wound and there may be...”

Six eyes widened in horror. “But it’s all closed up!” the one who had brought the cloths protested. Then he reddened furiously and looked down in shame at his furry feet. “Begging your pardon, Mr. Elrond, sir.”

He proceeded to take off Frodo’s vest and shirt. The stricken Ring-bearer shivered in the cold and a sheet and blankets were as far as possible, while still leaving the shoulder bare. “I’m sorry, Mr. Frodo, but all of this is to help you. Once we get you settled and healed, then you’ll be wrapped up nice and cozy. Don’t you fret about that. We’re with the Elves now and you’ll be fixed up in no time.”

Elrond looked kindly at the three, impressed most of all by that soothing voice. “I will administer a draught to him so he will not feel much pain,” he assured. He handed over a small flask. “Hold his head up and ease this down his throat slowly so he doesn’t choke.”

The two who had brought the water over did as they instructed. The other watched fretfully, twisting his hands, then when Frodo was eased back, he brought up one of the cloths and dabbed at Frodo where some of the draught had slipped out of the slack mouth. After that he took the cold hand and chaffed it against his own, trying to warm it and continued speaking comforts. Elrond watched all of this, touched by their care and love.

He brought up a lancet and holding it with tongs, dipped it into the boiling water. The hobbits’ paled to see how sharp it was. “You need not watch this,” the healer lord said.

“We will,” said the smallest, though he was nearly white and looked near to fainting. The one closest to him, almost as pale, grabbed his hand and held it tight.

As Elrond prepared to re-open the wound, he closed his eyes for a moment and sent a quick prayer to IluvAdar. Guide my hand, Adar, and strengthen my heart and those who stand here with me.

The three little ones couldn’t help but close their eyes and wince in sympathetic pain as the wound was lanced and Frodo cried out softly, writhing on the bed. The hand that Sam held gripped the gardener’s tight enough to hurt, but the younger hobbit didn’t even notice.

“You said it wouldn’t hurt him!” cried the smallest and Elrond could see that the other two had barely restrained themselves from shouting the same thing.

“I’m sorry, little masters.”

The stoutest hobbit stroked Frodo’s head and curls gently with his free hand. “It’s all right, Mr. Frodo,” he murmured. “This is all to get you better.” Then he looked up at the Elf, begging that his words were not lies. Elrond nodded gravely and the hobbit looked back down and continued his stroking and soft words.

So began the first night.

Chapter Two: The First Day and Second Night

Elrond looked down at the sleeping hobbits. The three of them had collapsed on the bed sometime after midnight, all insisting, despite their many yawns and their heads drooping in fatigue, that they didn’t want to go to sleep, that they wanted to continue to help. The Elf-lord had gently told them that they could help Frodo better if they were not ready to drop from exhaustion themselves. They looked like they were going to argue that, but then smallest had been overwhelmed by a huge yawn and so they decided not to. There ensued some brief but surprisedly animated discussion between two of them about sleeping arrangements. The one that he held the smallest carry the water told him that he shouldn’t be sleeping near Frodo because he kicked in his sleep and that one promised not to and begged to be allowed to sleep close by. Elrond was the latest to have those green eyes turned on him that only Sam was able to resist and fell to their power as well. The smallest had given a tired cheer, curled up close to Frodo, kissed his brow, assured him that he’d be all right, said goodnight, then took Frodo’s good hand and held it up to his cheek and promptly fell asleep. The other had lain down on Frodo’s other side, kissed him and the stout one had curled up at his feet. Elrond had continued to work throughout the night.

Gandalf came in early in the morning to find them still asleep. “So I see you’ve made the acquaintance of four more hobbits,” he said softly to Elrond.

“We haven’t been properly introduced yet,” the Elf lord said.

Gandalf smiled. “Well, then allow me the honor. The smallest one there is Pippin, an inquisitive Took if there ever was one. He can talk both your ears off if you let him. The one on Frodo’s other side is Merry Brandybuck, very practical. They are two of Frodo’s myriad cousins. I’m sure they would be happy to tell you in excruciating detail exactly which one, to what degree and what side of the family as hobbits are very fond of their family history and can recite it back and forth to the nth degree if they know nothing else, so I will spare telling you such myself. The stout one there at Frodo’s feet is Samwise, who is Frodo’s gardener.”

“They are all most loyal and protective of their kin,” Elrond remarked.

“Indeed. You would be well informed never to wonder out loud who is most loyal or loves Frodo the most or you’d be in the midst of an argument that could stretch until the world is re-made.”

The edges of Elrond’s mouth twitched. “I consider myself forewarned then. I have already seen the most tender love from all of them.”

Gandalf looked down at Frodo. “How is he?”

“The hold of the Enemy on him is very strong. If he hadn’t come when he did, I doubt I could have done anything to save him. But he did come and the power of IluvAdar is preserving him for the moment.”

“As He has this entire time. I wonder what His plans are for this special one.”

“The light of the One shines brightly in him, even now, brighter than I have seen in any mortal and that has made me wonder as well. It is undoubtedly what has saved him. But I did not think hobbits were aware of the One.”

“I don’t believe they are, not on any conscious level, but still they are very close to him. I don’t think even Frodo who knows all the Elvish stories and histories is aware that the One he has read about is his Creator also, but still he draws on that strength and love instinctively. He always has. His fea is aware, even if he isn’t.”

“Still the blade bit deep and the point is still buried within. I have not yet been able to find it, though I have searched this whole night. Elessar showed me the blade hilt and the carvings upon it are evil. I am amazed at the strength in this little one. None have ever withstood such a wound and lived. He may still not, or he may continue to surprise us.”

“I pray for the latter, though my heart fears. He has the look of Elven-kind as though Eru chose one of his First-born to be clad in a hobbit’s skin. It is hard to remember sometimes that he is still very much a hobbit and bound to die with the rest of mortal kind.”

“He is here now. There is still hope while he lives.”

“And if does not?”

“Then I will beg Adar to take him before...”

“....he becomes a wraith,” Gandalf finished with a heavy sigh, silently adding his own plea, for he and Elrond well knew death was not the fate of one so wounded.

The grim conversation was interrupted when the smallest of the hobbits stirred then. “Gandalf!” Pippin cried. “Finally! Where have you been all this time? Frodo’s been horribly wounded and it’s been just awful getting here. Merry and I nearly got eaten by a willow tree in the Old Forest, Black Riders have been after us the whole time and we got attacked by barrow-wights and Strider nearly starved us to death and Glorfindel nearly walked us off our feet! I’m sure things would have been much better if you had been along.”

Gandalf smiled and looked at Elrond for a moment, as though to say ‘See, what did I tell you?’. Only one who knew Elrond as well as Gandalf did could see the grave amusement in those deep eyes.

The wizard turned his attention back to Pippin. “I’m sorry, but I was unavoidably detained. Still with all your trials, you made it and you do not look the worse for wear for all that.”

“Humph,” the tween said, not at all convinced. “I’m sure I’ve lost enough weight to put myself back two summers and I don’t know if I’ll ever gain it all back. And I’ve been scared enough to never grow another inch. In fact, I’m still so frightened for Frodo, I may even begin to shrink.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you fool of a Took. You have plenty to eat here and Frodo is in the hands of the greatest healer in Middle-earth.”

Pippin frowned, bitting his lip as he looked at his still, deathly pale cousin. “Does that mean that Frodo will be fine too?” he asked softly, fearing the answer.

“Time will tell, my inquisitive Took. Now do you want breakfast or are you going to talk until the moon rises and sets?”

Pippin thought about that for a minute. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

Gandalf’s eyes widened slightly. Pippin ignored that and looked up at the tall Elf-lord, craning his neck up as far as it could go. “I want to help more. What can I do and where is the privy?”

Elrond nodded to a door cut into the round wall.

Pippin scrambled off the bed, disappeared, returned very shortly afterwards, his hands and face still slightly wet. He shook Merry. “Wake up, you sluggard. Lord Elrond is going to give us our tasks to do today. I swear you would sleep through the crack of doom if I wasn’t here.”

Merry blinked slowly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “It’s over there,” Pippin said in answer to the question in his cousin’s eyes and while he was using the facilities, Gandalf woke Sam who followed Merry, still a little sleepily. Then with faces washed and refreshed, they looked down at Frodo. Pippin and Merry kissed his brow and Sam greeted him with a cheerful voice, then sat by him and took his cold hand, chaffing it against his. They all looked up to Elrond for hope and assurance.

“How is he, sir?” Sam asked. “He’s still so awfully cold.”

The Elf looked into those pleading, sincere eyes and wished to reassure, but not to lie. “I have been working on him through the night, but he is still in danger. The point of the blade that wounded him is still within.”

“Is he going to die?”

“He is very strong-willed and he is fighting still. No one has ever lived so long, so there is hope he will continue and not be overwhelmed by the struggle before I can find the shard that remains. There is also the possibility his strength will fail. He is already greatly weakened.”

“It won’t fail,” Merry said. “Frodo is nothing if not stubborn. There were many times my parents wished he was more pliable, but he could dig his feet in, cross his arms, jut his chin out and nothing on the earth could move him when he got into that state. There was such fire in his eyes.”

“I think the wraiths were expecting that same pliability, Merry,” Gandalf said, “and got it just as much your parents did. I remember Bilbo telling me that Frodo was once a terror of Buckland.”

“And Hobbiton, when he saw something or someone who bothered him or others,” said a new voice behind him and they all turned to see Bilbo hobble in. “But then it was tempered by a caring heart, not a rebellious one. As it is now.”

The ancient hobbit leaned heavily on his walking stick as he came to his nephew’s side. He stroked a cold, pale cheek. “Oh, my dear, beautiful lad, how wonderful to see you and how terrible. I wish I could be in your place and take this all for you so you don’t feel a thing.”

He looked up at Elrond. “Tell me the truth, my old friend, how bad is it and what is it?”

The Elf-lord regarded Bilbo gravely. “He has been wounded by a Morgul blade and the shard remains within him. His fea has not surrendered and is fighting still. I don’t believe his hroa will fail until that does.”

Bilbo looked up at his friend and Elrond’s heart twisted to see what was in the little one’s eyes. “My lovely, loving lad should not have to suffer the torment of being one of them. I’d rather be one myself than to endure seeing him become one.”

“I pray that the One take him before that happens.”

“So do I, so do I. Best we ask for strength for his heart not to be overcome.”

“That is my prayer also.”

The other hobbits looked between the two and were frightened at their words. “Can we pray too?” Pippin asked. “How do you do that?”

“Just say what is in your heart,” Elrond said, touched once more by the hobbits he was coming to know. “You will be heard and the One who hears will answer you.”

“Truly? It’s that simple? Who is listening?”

“The One Who made you, Peregrin Took and all Tooks and Brandybucks and Bagginses and all the Shire and Men and Elves,” Gandalf told him. “The only One Who can heal Frodo.”

“All right then, Please make Frodo well again. Thank you,” Pippin said fervently and Merry and Sam added their own words. The youngest hobbit looked back up at Gandalf. “Do you think it worked? Should we say more or louder or anything?”

Gandalf smiled softly. “No, you did just fine, my lad.”

Pippin looked happy. “Well, that was easy. I would like to do it again, though, later, just to make sure. Would that be okay?”

“That’s fine. He’ll be glad to hear from any of you anytime.”

“Even if I ask again even later?”

“Even if you ask a hundred times a day.”

Pippin considered that a moment. “Well, I don’t think I would have to do that. After all, wouldn’t he get annoyed at me? My parents and sisters always get annoyed at me if I pester them too much, but then sometimes if I do, they give me what I want, just to quiet me up.”

Gandalf laughed quietly. He looked briefly at the other two hobbits and saw the same questions on their faces, though they didn’t speak them. “He won’t get annoyed, my dear hobbits. He loves you and loves Frodo more than you can possibly imagine. He will give you all what is best. You don’t even have to speak it out loud. Talk to Him in the silence of your hearts and He will hear you there as well.”

Quite put at peace with this, Gandalf watched them throughout the day, doing what Elrond instructed them to do to ease Frodo’s pain and their own anxiety and all along their lips moved silently in supplication. They ate in Frodo’s room and rested that night in the same positions as before. Bilbo dozed in a chair at times, then Elrond helped him to another bed for the night. The shard still hadn’t been found and Frodo had barely moved or made a sound, but still they knew he was with him and fighting. They hoped he could feel their gentle caresses and kisses and hear their soft words. They told him they were praying for him and Gandalf smiled at the pride in their voices as they said that.

So passed the first day and second night.

Chapter Three: The Second Day and Third Night

Darkness.

Flooding.

He was drowning, but not in the river that was his last memory. He was lost in a void somewhere and he wondered if he had already passed into the wraith world. He fought against the black that surrounded him, but he was so weak and afraid. He saw also some diffuse light and he strained toward that, though he wondered whether it was the pale kings casting the light or something else. He was not alone, that he knew. He was comforted actually as he felt that other presence give him some strength more to fight when he was certain he had no more to give himself. His mouth moved but no sound came out. Thank you, he sent in thought instead and felt himself heard and answered.

He felt other things also and not all of them pleasant. His shoulder and arm burned with an icy fire that was slowly spreading toward his heart. His wound was poked and prodded and he felt grasping fingers enter there that he wanted to fight off, but was not strong enough. He tried to open his mouth to protest, but again nothing came. Was his mouth still being held shut by the wraith at the water?

He also felt his hand being held, but it felt muffled as though there was mitten around his hand. He could not tell who held it. And if they held his frozen hand, he could not feel that at all. Sometimes he felt a body close to him, warm against his cold. There was soft brushes against his brow and sometimes gentle strokes to his throat and he felt himself swallow whatever was being carefully fed him. That all reassured him since he could not imagine the wraiths needed to eat, but still he felt so cut off from everything. Was he that close to dying or worse? Was this the next step after everything had began to fade and turn grey as his vision had changed and he had begun to see as through a veil?

He heard voices as though coming from a great distance. Pippin’s and Merry’s and Sam’s and Strider’s and was that Bilbo’s and Gandalf’s? Where was he? There was also many other voices that he didn’t recognize. They all spoke Sindarin which pierced through the haze of his pain and darkness a little clearer than those of his cousins and friends. He thought he heard Strider speak some words also in that language and he wondered about that. Most clearly he heard a soft but commanding voice, one of those he didn’t recognize, but which held his attention the most. He heard it almost as much as heard those beloved ones he had heard so much of his life.

Lasto beth nin, Iorhael. Aphado nin! [Hear my voice, Frodo. Follow me!]

Mas? [Where?]

Tolo dan na ngalad. Avo visto! [Come back to the light. Do not stray!]

He wanted to obey, but where was he? How could he find his way out from this blackness? The commanding voice came again, but he did not think he was being addressed, but the darkness that surrounded him. Drego morn! [Flee night!]

And amazingly, he did feel the black draw back a bit. That other presence came to comfort him once more and some of his fears left, but not all. He still did not know where he was. Had he reached Rivendell or were these more Elven voices on the Road? Would he ever reach safety?

You are with Me, My child, came the Voice of that comforting Presence. Stay with Me and the Enemy who seeks you will not claim you.

Frodo suddenly saw a small, thick shard of cold, white light working its way to his heart and dread filled him for it looked to be of the same light he had seen from the wraiths. 

Stay and fight, came the Voice again.

Frodo wondered if he had the strength to last until the end. Will you fight with me? Who are you?

Another light grew and that too drove toward Frodo’s heart. I will fight with you.

So passed the second day and third night.

Chapter Four: The Third Day and Fourth Night

“Shouldn’t he be getting better by now?” Pippin asked anxiously. “We’ve been praying for days. How long does it take? Are you sure someone’s listening?”

Gandalf smiled. “Someone is indeed listening, my dear Took. Fret not. Frodo has not succumbed.”

“But he’s not moving or waking either. I don’t think he’s getting any better.”

“He won’t until the shard is found and removed,” Elrond said gravely. As eight eyes flew to him in increased worry, he sought to add what reassurances he could. “But he is fighting it still. I marvel at his strength.”

The four hobbits gathered around their stricken kin and friend looked alternately very frightened and proud.

“That’s Frodo for you,” Merry said. “He’s the most stubborn of us all and will probably live longer than any of us because he loves life too much to surrender it anytime soon.”

“So I pray for it to be so,” the Elf lord said. “Only among the Elves who have fought against the might of Sauron and his master those long ages have I seen such valor against such a foe.”

“That’s Mr. Frodo too,” Sam said softly, looking tenderly down at his beloved master. “Always thought there was something Elvish about him with all that light in him that makes him so beautiful.”

Elrond looked at the stout hobbit, surprised that the little one was aware of the grace of IluvAdar that shone so brightly even now as it wrestled with the great darkness that still sought Frodo’s soul. He glanced at Gandalf who smiled.

“Even the littlest ones serve,” the wizard said. “You have in your keeping, Elrond, the best hobbit of all the Shire, the five best I dare say.”

“Indeed. It heartens me that as my people leave these shores, that Middle-earth will remain in good hands.”

Bilbo stroked his nephew’s cheek slowly, so pale and cold. “No, Gandalf, the best is right here, the very best and we are lesser than he but more blessed than any to know him. He must survive or the world will be darker and there will be nothing left in the world anymore for me.”

“I will seek again for the shard,” Elrond said. “It will mean further opening of his wound.”

“Then of course you must do that,” the ancient hobbit said even as his heart screamed in protest.

The Elf healer nodded and prepared to make another incision. He was not unmoved by the tears that slowly tracked down Bilbo’s cheeks as he took Frodo’s hand and gripped it firmly.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” the elder hobbit said. “I’m so sorry.”

As the blade pierced Frodo’s skin, he moaned and tried to writhe away from the scalpel. His hand tightened around Bilbo’s and the tears fell faster as Bilbo held his hand a bit tighter as well. Sam came to the Ring-bearer’s side and held his arm down so he couldn’t move, so Frodo could be cut again. The gardener could barely see for his own tears. He knew this was all to help his master heal, but how could he make his heart understand that to do that, more pain must be caused to the one he loved most in the world and that he was helping that to happen? He was openly sobbing while Bilbo and the others wept silently, their tears falling into Frodo’s curls or his blankets or his cheeks, blessing each place they touched. Sam’s fell into the wound itself.

Gandalf stood behind them, his lips moving in supplication. Aragorn joined the vigil in the late afternoon and offered his own prayers. The hobbits hadn’t rested or eaten since they had risen. Nothing could move them away. When Pippin swayed on his feet and would have fainted, Aragorn caught him gently and laid him at Frodo’s side. The smallest hobbit scrunched up until he was face to face with his cousin and then laid his head so it was touching Frodo’s. He sang softly a lullaby his beloved one had often sang to him, over and over, calming all those present, even himself.

“The darkness is falling, the Shire is still.

The moon is a-shining o’er water and hill.

Now homeward the cattle are wending their way,

And safely they’ll sleep till the dawning of day.

“Now all the wee birdies have gone to their rest,

Tucked up all cosy and safe in the nest.

And all the wee lambs rest on soft beds of hay,

And safely they’ll sleep till the dawning of day.

“Oh hush ye, my dearie, and close now yer eye.

Rest ye in peace till the morning is nigh.

All through the night by your side I will stay,

And safely you’ll sleep till the dawning of day.”

When Pippin trailed off mid-sentence, asleep himself, Gandalf covered him with a blanket. He looked at the others. “Time I think for all of you to rest a bit,” he said softly. Bilbo was already nodding in his chair, his hand still wrapped around Frodo’s good one, but Merry and Sam vehemently shook their heads, though they were nearly as exhausted.

Frodo tossed his head as Elrond continued to probe. “No, please, no, stop...” he murmured and Sam’s heart broke even more.

“Maybe you could stop just a bit, Mr. Elrond, sir?”

“I’m sorry, Samwise, but the deeper the shard moves into him, the more difficult it will be to remove.”

Gandalf put his hand on the gardener’s shoulder and Aragorn placed one of his on Merry’s.

Then suddenly the piece was removed. It seemed the light dimmed in the room, but flared just around the wound, bathing the hobbit in a warm glow before subsiding again within him, shining again softly, lighting him from within as it always had. Another Elf came forward and wrapped the shard in thick cloth, then hurried away to burn it.

“Le hannon, Adar,” Elrond murmured in his prayer of thanks, then cleaned and bound the wound.

Sam and Merry slumped. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they whispered over and over as silently Gandalf and Aragorn mouthed the same.

Merry curled up next to Frodo as Elrond wrapped his shoulder and promptly fell asleep.

Sam seemed to be unaware of anyone else in the room as he began to stroke his master’s curls from where he stood at Frodo’s head and he softly crooned his own lullaby, sending his beloved into a true sleep.

“Sleep now,

And fear not the darkness.

There’s nothing can harm you,

Let go all your fear.

Sleep now,

Rest safe till the morning,

And when you awaken, I’ll be here.

“Sleep now,

And know I’ll be with you

To hold and protect you

Whatever befall.

Sleep now,

For I’ll e’er be nigh you

To hear you and answer when you call.

“Sleep now,

May no shadow touch you.

O close now your eyes, dear,

Lay down all your care.

Sleep now,

And know I’ll be by you,

Your every joy and woe to share.

“Sleep now,

For I will not leave you.

All through the long night

Beside you I’ll stay.

Sleep now,

And know that I’ll love you,

Keep and defend you all my days.

“Sleep now,

My joy, my beloved,

And know that I’ll never

From you depart.

Sleep now,

And know that whatever

This life may hold, you’ll be in my heart.”

He kissed that dear brow then with nowhere else to sleep he lay down where he had all the other nights, at his master’s feet. Frodo now slept peacefully. One battle had been won. The war continued.

So passed the third day and fourth night.

A/N: The songs are from the queen’s translations. The first is from Bywater, the second is thought to be have written by Sam. Adar is Sindarin for Father. Hroa is body, fea is soul.