REPOST

Disclaimers: All characters, places and events are the sole property of the Tolkien Estate. I receive no money for this piece of fiction, only the satisfaction of writing about the land and peoples that he so beautifully depicted.

Smoke and Mirrors Chapter 37

Frodo awoke some hours later. He lay very still, taking his bearings. His head ached with the dull spasms common to an encounter with too much drink. He lay motionless, swallowing several times, trying to quell the nausea he thought would overwhelm him. How could he have been so foolish. He hadn't been in the peak of health to begin with and now he felt awful. He took a deep breath and looked around the room slowly. He was alone but he needed to use the chamber pot, so he slowly moved his legs to hang over the bed. He pushed himself up and his forearms trembled violently with this small effort. Finally, he was upright with his feet touching the floor. The room swam in and out of his vision and he knew he would be unable to prevent the bile from rising...he was going to be sick.

"Ohhh, Eru help me," he whispered. He leaned over the bed, but he wasn't fast enough and he threw up on the sheets and comforter. A sheen of sweat lay clammy on his pale skin and he thought he would pass out. Instead, he was able to right himself and pull the chamber pot out from under the bed. He sank down on it and rested while he relieved himself. Once he was finished, he decided to wash his hands and see if he could find some cold water to drink. He was desperately thirsty. He staggered towards the door, and headed down the corridor. There must be water somewhere nearby. He looked in each doorway as he passed. One room had several wounded, the next a room where herbs were drying the next a small sitting room. He ran his hand along the wall to keep from collapsing, he was beginning to think going to look for water was perhaps not such a good idea. He turned around and walked the other way thinking maybe he could find Merry and Pippin's room. He had to stop and lean his forehead against the cool stone. It was wonderfully cold against his face, and he slumped down to the floor wanting to put his whole body up against it. He closed his eyes thinking he would rest for just a moment. He decided to pull himself up, he nearly fell, the nausea and vertigo rushing in waves over him. Finally, it passed and he took tremulous steps down to where he believed, Merry and Pippin's room was. A huge sigh of relief escaped his lips and he peered in the doorway. Pippin was having the bandages changed on his leg and he was trying desperately, to itch the leg as Aragorn unwound layer after layer of gauze.

"Stop it, Peregrine. You'll infect it by scratching. I'll wash it and then we'll put a balm on it to soothe the itching." Aragorn said with a laugh.

"Strider, it's driving me crazy. I can't stand it." He pulled the leg away and began scratching in earnest. A scuffling noise caused Strider to turn in his seat while he simultaneously slapped at Pippin's clawing hands. Frodo stood in the doorway swaying slowly back and forth. The King quickly placed Pippin's leg on the bed and leaped towards the hobbit. As he reached him, Frodo collapsed. He moaned as Strider picked him up and bore him to Pippin's bed. Pippin slid over to make room for his cousin.

"Frodo, Frodo why were you out wandering, cousin? Aragorn, is he going to be all right?"

Aragorn sighed, "He's feverish and pale. Let's see if we can't get him some liquids," he said with concern.

"Water, please, Strider. 'M so thirsty," Frodo gasped out.

"Aragorn! Aragorn! Frodo's missing," came a ruckus in the hallway. Sam and Saleth burst through the doorway with Merry stumbling along after a few moments. "Mr. Frodo! You gave us an awful fright, you did." Sam was near tears he had been so frantic.

"Saleth, we need to get Frodo's temperature down. I am not certain what is the cause of the fever, but he has been throwing up....perhaps he is simply dehydrated. Do you have something cool we can give him? Water or juice? Perhaps some salted chicken broth?" the King asked. Saleth knew the King was overly protective of the Ringbearer so he was not surprised at the multiple requests.

"Yes, My Liege. We have some flavored ices as well. I'll see that they are brought along with ice water. Perhaps some more of the willow bark tea would lower his fever."

"Nooo tea jus' water," mumbled Frodo.

"Let's run a cool bath for him and then dose him with some athelas. I believe he can handle it if we make it weak enough," Aragorn instructed. Saleth brought kettles and began heating the water over the fire. When these were boiling, Aragorn added the herb to the tub and poured the boiling water over it. Next, he mixed the hot water with the cool until the tub was filled and a sweet smelling aroma hung on the air.

"Sam, please help me attend your Master," Aragorn asked.

"Of course, Mr. Strider," Sam quickly bent over Frodo and began to remove his soiled nightshirt. He placed toweling around his Master to cover him and help keep him warm. Frodo was trembling violently by the time Aragorn picked him up and slowly lowered him, towels and all, into the copper tub.

"How does that feel, Frodo?" asked the King as he rinsed the curly hair and then soaped it with the lavender soap. He carefully tipped the hobbit's head back to avoid getting water and lather in his eyes. And then he rinsed all of the sweat and vomit from the curls until they hung in ringlets across the hobbit's forehead.

"Feels nice, Ar'gorn. Thank you," he murmured. Next, Sam lathered a cloth with the sweet smelling soap and while talking in a low, soothing voice, began to wash the rest of his Master.

"You're gonna feel right as rain, Mr. Frodo, jes you see. Your Sam's gonna take care of you," "Strider, what's wrong with him? Why's he so hot?" asked Sam with concern.

"I am uncertain except to say that it was perhaps too early for Frodo to...indulge...as he did. We must get him hydrated and then he should feel better, he just simply was not strong enough to drink his normal quota of Elven alcohol," Aragorn smiled wanly.

"But he was fine, he said he felt good after his talk with Mr. Merry," Sam questioned.

"Sam, you must remember that Frodo's had one trauma after another and telling Merry his nightmares could not have been an easy thing to do. His body is feeling stress in combination with his weight loss, lack of essential nutrients and liquids, this was simply more than he could handle right now," Aragorn tried to explain to the devoted gardener.

"Will he be all right, sir?" asked Sam.

"Yes, Sam, I think he's simply exhausted and Merry's timing could not have been worse," the King grimaced.

"I mean to talk to that Brandybuck. I still can't believe he didn't use his good old fashioned hobbit sense and allowed this to happen to Mr. Frodo," Sam said angrily.

"Merry meant well, Sam. He knew he would never get Frodo to speak aloud of his darkest fears without first coercing him. Since hobbits have a weakness for strong drink, he undoubtedly thought this would be the best way," Aragorn murmured. "Don't be too hard on him."

Frodo was now clean and Aragorn lifted him out of the tub, drained the water and replaced it with equal amounts of hot and cold. He wrapped the hobbit in fluffy towels, and toweled his hair. Then he wrapped him in a warmed blanket and lay him close to Pippin.

"Sam, get Merry and set him to helping his younger cousin to bathe please," Aragorn asked.

"Yes sir, Mr. Strider." Sam left to search for Merry. Merry wasn't far and he was near inconsolable in a far corner of the room. Pippin was perched on his good leg while he aimlessly scratched at the other, speaking quietly to his older cousin.

"It's all right, Mer', he's going to be fine, you'll see. Our cousin is made of sterner stuff than that," said Pip.

"Oh, Pip, it's all my fault. I jus' wanned him to tell me about his nighmares so that they'd all goaway. Wha' have I done? I couldn't bear to hurt him, Pip, I love him you know," a very drunk and teary Merry lamented.

"I know you do. We all do, Mer. We all love our Frodo, don't we Sam," Merry looked around sharply, almost falling over in the process. He was expecting a rebuke from the gardener for his folly with the spirits. But Sam's face was full of compassion.

"It's all right, Mr. Merry. We'll take care of him together, we will." Sam said gently. "Now, Mr. Strider wants you to wash Mr. Pippin really well so we can re-bandage that leg of his, can you do that for us Mr. Merry?" he asked.

"Pip, Sam's not an'ry with me, are you Sam?" asked Merry.

"I was pretty upset when I saw Mr. Frodo's condition, but I'm not angry anymore, Mr. Merry. I know you was trying to help ‘em some, I think we should just treat him real gentle like for the next little while," Sam said. "Let's get Mr. Pippin soaking in the tub and then we can check on Mr. Frodo, what do ya say, Mr. Merry?" Merry beamed.

"I say that sounds like a splennid idea, Sam," he moved to Pippin and together they brought the tween to the tub, stripped him and helped him into the bath. "How's that feel, Pip?"

"Ahhh...lovely! Oh water hot is a noble thing!" replied Pippin with a satisfied sigh and a small smile.

TBC