REPOST

Smoke and Mirrors Chapter 25

When Aragorn and Sam entered Frodo's room, Sam gasped at the shrunken,
frail form that was his master. Aragorn turned sad eyes on the gardener and said, "Frodo has been very ill, Sam. He is just now beginning to show signs of improvement. He will need your help to regain his strength and complete the healing journey."

Sam nodded, "He's so thin. I can practically see through him, his skin is so pale." His eyes roved over the emaciated frame, noting the dark circles that rimmed the now closed eyes. Frodo trembled as his body
alternately fevered then chilled and, as Sam watched, he grimaced in pain as the right leg jerked.

While they spoke, Saleth entered with a pitcher of cool water. He began placing a cool cloth on Frodo's feverish forehead. Aragorn quickly glanced at the healer with a small smile.

"It would be a great help if you could think of foods that Frodo enjoys. We are just starting him back on light broths and warm milk with honey. But soon he will need foods that are more substantial--not too rich or heavily spiced, but flavorful and nourishing," said Aragorn quietly.

"I know jes' what he needs. Some eggy custards with just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon, some warm applesauce with cinnamon and honey, soft scones with a bit o' butter, lotsa mint teas and mayhaps a little porridge with cream and strawberries, if you have 'em, that is," Sam said excitedly, delighted to find something he could do to contribute to the care of his Master. Saleth smiled at Aragorn, then resumed his duties.

Aragorn nodded at Sam. "Indeed, you have a list of some choice dishes. No meats or fruits that are too acidic, they could upset his stomach, but a lot of sweet, soothing foods. Can I depend on you to oversee the preparations?"

"Of course, Mr. Strider. I can do it now," he wriggled to get down but Strider held him tight. Saleth almost chuckled out loud at the little gardener's exuberance to help his friend.

"No, Sam. You can go to the kitchens later and oversee the preparations personally for tomorrow's meals. Frodo is still not quite ready for much more than broth for today. Plan to start slow, perhaps with one or two items from your extensive list and in small bite sized portions. Do not expect him to sample more than that. For now,
I think he would take great satisfaction in seeing you," Aragorn said. Aragorn slowly looked Sam over. The hobbit was pale and thinner than he had been a few days ago. He looked exhausted with his rumpled hair and clothes, and there were large dark circles under his eyes that spoke volumes as to the pain of being separated from his friend. The King decided other matters needed to be attended to first. "Sam, when did you eat or sleep last?" he asked. Sam eyes shifted down to the floor. "As I thought," Aragorn smiled wryly. "Very well,*after* you have eaten and bathed you may stay with Frodo as long as you wish. He needs the comfort gained through close contact of others." Sam made to object, wanting to go to his Master directly, foregoing his own needs. But Aragorn shot him a look that brooked no debate, and he grudgingly acquiesced.

A meal was brought and Sam ate quickly. Once sated, he sat back, hands on his stomach and reclined against a large pillow on the divan where he had eaten. His eyes began to close of their own accord, until he heard Frodo's thrashing. He jumped to his feet and went to his Master, taking the frail hand in his and whispered soothing, nonsense words. Frodo relaxed at his touch, his brow unfurled and he drifted back into a light doze.

Saleth and Aragorn had moved quietly to the doorway. "That was a most ingenious way to include Master Gamgee in his Master's care, my Lord," said Saleth.

"All his life he has cared for Frodo. To leave him with nothing to do for his Master, would leave him frustrated and anxious," Aragorn smiled. "Besides, Frodo *will* do things for Sam that he might not be inclined to do for us. They need each other." He looked at the two and smiled warmly.

Aragorn walked to the bed and, after checking Frodo, asked Sam to follow him. He took Sam to a private bath where steamy clouds filled with the heady scent of lavender greeted the small gardener as he entered. A large tub of sweetly scented hot water awaited him. On a nearby stool were clean towels and a change of clothing. A nightshirt was also there allowing him a choice of garments. Aragorn closed and latched the door as he left. Even though it would have been pleasant to relax and soak in the luxury of the hot tub, Sam washed quickly, toweled off and changed into the clean shirt and breeches. He then hurriedly left the bath house and ran back to Frodo's room. When he entered, Frodo was in the middle of having his own bath. Aragorn grinned at the gardener's obvious haste to return to his friend. Frodo reclined in the copper tub as Aragorn gently washed his hair and body with a large sponge. He eyes were half opened with a distant, glassy look to them.

"I am afraid he was ill again and I wished to get him out of those sick clothes and into something clean. Also the hot bathes are very relaxing for the muscles in his legs. This seems the only way we can keep him calm for any length of time." Sam saw that healers had brought clean linens and were changing the bed. A large pot of mint
tea and a tray of strange looking tubes. Sam remembered his mother using those when he had been very ill one winter, placing them inside of him to help give him fluids and medicines. He grimaced at the thought, remembering how uncomfortable and humiliating it had been, even for a seven year old.

Aragorn gently lifted Frodo from the tub and after wrapping him in the fluffy towels, moved to the bed, placing a clean nightshirt on him. He gently rolled Frodo to his side and bringing the Ringbearer's small legs up to his chest, slowly inserted one of the boluses into his bottom. Frodo had become immune to the indignity of the boluses and
simply lay back with a small sigh. His eyes opened and they no longer had the clouded, distant look in them as he stared up at Sam.

"Sam? Is it you?" he whispered, smiling wanly.

"Yes, Mr. Frodo. It's your Sam," Sam wept as he raced to Frodo's side. Clutching his Master's hand, tears flowed from his hazel eyes.

"No need for that, my dear," said Frodo gently, wiping them from Sam's face. "I'm so happy to see you. I thought you were gone. I called and called, but you didn't answer, and I couldn't find you," his lip quivered as he looked at his loyal companion.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo I couldn't come," Sam thoroughly broke down, feeling miserable at his inability to help his Master when he was needed most. Aragorn tried to comfort both sobbing hobbits but finally decided to let them find comfort in each other. He lifted the gardener onto the huge bed and Sam pulled his Master close. They clutched at each other until finally, Frodo was spent and leaned heavily against his servant.

"I'll never leave you, Mr. Frodo. You were so sick, they thought it best to keep me away, but I'm here now and wild ponies couldn't drag me from you, sir," Sam said vehemently.

Aragorn smiled warmly at them both. "Sam, slide in behind Frodo and let's see if we can get some food down him, all right?" Frodo groaned. "Why do you bother? I just throw it up or it ends up in the chamber pot seconds after its swallowed," he murmured.

"Now Master, I'll not have any of that feelin' sorry for yourself." Sam rolled his eyes dramatically at Frodo, causing Frodo to giggle. "Your Sam will take care of you. We'll get you some right decent hobbit food if I have any say about it," he gently lifted Frodo so that he lay propped against his chest. Frodo couldn't help but chuckle.

"I have missed you, my dear, dear Sam," he said with a smile.

They slowly fed him the mint tea which, to Frodo, tasted exquisite, his mouth savoring the refreshing liquid. Then Aragorn gave him the milk with honey that contained the Valerian root and hypericum. This was Frodo's favorite drink and he looked forward to it at each meal time. His body craved the calories and nourishment, but it was the
cinnamon and nutmeg spiced milk, steaming right from the kettle, that reminded Frodo of chilly winter nights spent in front of the fire at Bag End with dear Bilbo.

Next Aragorn tried a thin meat based broth. Frodo took only a few sips of this and declared himself full.

"How are you feeling Frodo? Has the cramping diminished in your stomach?" asked Aragorn as he gently felt Frodo's abdomen.

"It feels more settled this eve. I believe the milk and tea actually may stay down this time and they tasted very good for once. Perhaps I *am* feeling a bit better. I still feel terribly dizzy and I'm as weak as a bairn," he whispered. Sam moved out from behind him and lay him on his side. Frodo's eyes drifted slowly shut as the fullness of his stomach, the shear effort of eating and the emotional reunion with Sam took its toll on his exhausted body.

Sam moved slowly off of the bed and grasping Aragorn's hand, drug him towards the door. Once they were outside he turned to Aragorn. "Strider, *is* he getting better? He weighs practically nothin' and why is his face so bruised?" the gardener demanded.

"Sam," Aragorn knelt down so that he was eye to eye with the hobbit, "Frodo had some vivid hallucinations yesterday and unfortunately, we had to subdue him before he could hurt himself. I am sorry, but I had to strike him and then we were able to treat him afterwards.” Sam’s eyes flew open, but he didn’t interrupt the King. “He is past the worst of the withdrawal, I believe, but now needs nurturing. He needs comfortable situations with his friends, stories of the Shire, foods that are connected to happier times. These are things that will bolster his desire to recover and remind him of what he has so valiantly fought for."

Sam nodded sadly, "But he will recover, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Sam. Each day he grows a little stronger." Aragorn glanced up, coming towards them was a very tired looking Merry, his right arm hung limply at his side.

"Merry, you are unwell?” asked the King as he bent down before the hobbit.

"No, Strider, I am all right, just very tired and sore," he grimaced as he tried to move the useless arm with no effect.

"You are obviously too fatigued to give Frodo a massage. This can wait until morning. I think, perhaps you should go and soak in a hot bath, have a hot meal and retire," said Aragorn worriedly, noting how pale and wan Merry's face looked.

"I am all right. I want to help Frodo," he said testily.

"No Merry, I have pushed you too hard today. You will soak and then rest, that is not a request," Aragorn said gruffly. He lifted the exhausted hobbit and retraced his steps back towards the hobbit's room and the bath house.

"Well, at least Pippin seemed to enjoy the massage. He's sleeping like a wee bairn." Merry said with a yawn.

"Then you have earned a rest, my friend. Sam will attend Frodo for now," Aragorn said. He looked down at the hobbit and saw, amusedly, that he was beginning to nod off. "Not yet, Master Brandybuck, soak first, then sleep." He increased his pace, heading for the bath house before the hobbit could succumb to his exhaustion.

Sam crawled into the huge bed next to Frodo and pulled him close to his body. Frodo released a contented sigh and nestled into the warmth of his friend. He pushed his face into Sam's chest inhaling the comforting scent of fresh earth and lavender soap. Sam smiled beatifically as he finger combed Frodo's curls and slowly his eyes closed as he fell into a long deserved sleep.

TBC