“It’s just a cold, Sam,” Frodo protested as he felt propelled down the hall to his bedroom by the force of Sam’s will as a boat would be by a strong wind.

“It’s just a cold now, Mr. Frodo,” the tween said right behind his master.

Frodo knew better than to resist as he watched Sam go to one of the drawers and bring out a nightshirt. The elder hobbit could be as stubborn as any, but he knew when it came to his well-being, Sam could teach him a few things. His beloved friend was not only his gardener, but his guardian and he took both roles very seriously. Still Frodo did love to dig his heels in even when he knew Sam would dig his in deeper and Frod would lose as he always did.

“But it’s only early afternoon, Sam! It’s not even tea time yet and you expect me to get into bed?”

Sam gave him as withering a look as he dared before silently handing him the shirt. Frodo sighed, though the younger hobbit was sure he could see a smile as his master got into the nightwear. He pulled down the covers and Frodo obediently got in and allowed himself to be tucked in, sitting forward slightly as Sam puffed the pillows behind to support his back.

The younger hobbit then brought the nightstand a little closer with the book that Frodo was reading and made sure the chamber pot was within easy reach in case he was sick to his stomach. Frodo was most grateful for that since last time, he had been sick so violently and so suddenly, he had soiled his blankets. Sam had stripped the bed, found fresh sheets in the linen closet, put the soiled ones aside for washing and then handed his master a clean shirt to put on while he re-made the bed, all barely before Frodo could even react.

The tween disappeared for a moment, brought a mug of water, a stack of handkerchiefs and a couple more books for good measure. When he returned from vanishing another moment, he had a steaming mug of raspberry leaf tea for his master’s throat. Frodo gave him an amused, loving smile. He protested all the fussing as he felt he should, but actually he loved being spoiled by Sam. It reminded him of his parents and of Bilbo.

The younger hobbit drew the curtains slightly, still giving plenty of light to read by, but not so much that it would interfere with an afternoon nap, which Frodo knew was Sam’s way of saying that he had better be taking one, then the tween stepped back a moment to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. “Do you need anything more, Mr. Frodo?”

Frodo’s smile widened. “No, my Sam, I think not. Thank you very much. I’ll be perfectly fine and I promise to stay in bed until you call me.”

Frodo was very sorely put not to laugh at the incredulous expression that flashed across his dear friend’s face at that. They both well knew that the Master of Bag End had been on previous occasions out of bed much earlier than he should having been, having been found more than once, sneaking into the kitchen or even out to the garden. Sam searched anxiously over his master’s face, felt his brow for fever and warred within himself between his desire to stay with him or go out into the garden where the morning glory’s needed planting and weeds dug up.

“Go on, my Sam,” Frodo said gently with a squeeze of his friend’s hand. “You know you are going to do yourself no good fretting over me and the garden. I’ll be fine.”

Sam gave his master one more long look. “I’ll be back to check on you as soon as I’m done.”

“I’ll be here.”

Frodo gave his friend a wide, innocent smile, that Sam well knew usually hid some mischief. But all his master did was open a book and start to read. Sam gave him one last look as he closed the door partway and Frodo gave him another encouraging smile.

When the tween poked his head in an hour later after the planting was done, his master was reading still. The tea mug was drained and so was half the water. Frodo saw his Sam’s disbelief that he was still in bed and gave him another innocent smile.

“You be needing anything, Mr. Frodo?”he asked after he had refilled the tea mug, this time with a healthy dollop of honey for his master’s nose.

“No, Sam, thank you. I’m doing very well. I’m planning our next Adventure. Where do you want to go this time?”

“Wherever you go, Mr. Frodo.”

“Well, we should have a destination in mind I think. It’s near autumn again and you know how restless my legs get. Perhaps we could retrace Bilbo’s steps and go see Mirkwood and the Lonely Mountain and all that.”

Sam made a slight face. “I don’t think I want to go anywhere there could be spiders, even if Elves live in the same land, if it’s all the same to you, Mr. Frodo.”

“Well, maybe we can avoid that part of the journey. I’m not too keen of anything like that either. And there are certainly other places we could go to seek out Elves.”

“Anywhere you want to go, Mr. Frodo.”

“That’s the problem, Sam. I want to go everywhere.” The elder hobbit frowned slightly. “Well, almost everywhere. I don’t want to go to Land of Shadow, like the old tales tell of.” He shivered.

“Nor I, but still I would, if you were there.”

Frodo patted Sam’s hand and smiled. “That’s very brave of you, my Sam. I know I would be perfectly safe anywhere with you, but no need to fret about that. I don’t plan on ever going anywhere near. The tales are frightening enough.”

“Just don’t leave without me, Mr. Frodo.”

“Of course not, Sam. I would never do that. Or leave without Merry and Pippin. What fun would that be if I couldn’t be with my brothers?” Frodo paused. “Well, I’ll think of something. I think I shall have plenty of time before you release me from this prison of my bed.”

The younger hobbit searched his master’s face, still suspecting his master was up to something, though. Mr. Frodo was never this obedient unless he was planning something sneaky later.

When Sam returned again, after the weeding was done, he found his master asleep, still propped up on his pillows, head on his chest, the book open on the coverlet beside him and about to fall. Sam slipped in very quietly, rescued the book and placed it on the nightstand, refilled the water and removed the soiled handkerchiefs. Frodo didn’t stir and Sam spent some time just looking at him, at the light the shone from deep within that made him so beautiful. He hadn’t seen that light in anyone but an Elf and he wondered they would think when they saw a shining hobbit.

After dinner and Sam had Frodo settled down for the night, he made sure all was taken care before he retired to one of the guest bedrooms just in case his master needed him during the night. “Good night, Mr. Frodo.”

Frodo had already closed his eyes and was soon falling fast asleep. “Good night, my Sam,” he murmured. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Frodo.”

“You always will, won’t you?”

Sam brushed his master’s curls lightly. “Yes, Mr. Frodo, always.”

“Good. Thank you, my brother.”