Disclaimers: None of the characters or places in this story is owned by myself or Elwen, all rights belong to the Tolkien Estate. No financial compensation was received, only the joy of writing this AU story. Hope you enjoy.

Medical Disclaimers: Medical procedures and cures used in this piece of fiction, are also mostly of a fictitious nature and should not be used at home. Consult a licensed medical professional before being foolish enough to try these on yourself.

Chapter 5: First Impressions

Strider was covered in the thick golden clay of the Shire. Many times he had been forced to dismount and clean the goo from Galest's hooves as it first coated and then clung like an overshoe to the horse's ankles and feet. For the last hour he had been forced to walk, the horse plodding along obediently behind him, for the roads had become more and more treacherous as they slipped along. He was feeling a deep sense of foreboding and an urgency to reach Hobbiton quickly, which only furthered his frustration. At last, as they came upon Bywater, the road seemed less perilous and he once again, mounted the horse and began galloping hard towards Bag End. Two days and two nights had passed, and he had rested little. And so it was that the bedraggled and filthy form of a tall, dark and imposing stranger, a Man no less, arrived on the stoop of the hobbit hole called Bag End. He was weary beyond reckoning as he raised his fist and knocked loudly on the round, green door, not knowing what to expect or if he had even arrived in time to aid the injured lad.

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Bell dabbed a cool cloth over Frodo's perspiring face. Gandalf sat slumped in a large chair that seemed made for the wizard. Bell remembered that Bilbo often had strange visitors at Bag End and always at odd hours. He had had special furniture built for just such an occasion. There was rumored to be a long, large bed as well as another large, overstuffed chair in one of the back bedrooms, but she had never seen them. Sam lay curled on the rug by the fire. He had insisted he could stay awake, but had fallen off almost immediately after lying down. Bell watched Frodo's face, pale and covered in a sheen of sweat, as he dealt with some dream evidenced by the puckering and furrowing eyebrows. It had been almost five dark days since Otto had left for Bree. She sighed, knowing there was scant hope that help would arrive in time now to save the young Master. She felt near to tears from exhaustion and worry over this sweet lad. How he had lived this long was a wonder to her. The head wound was one she had seen before. Always with the same results, fever then seizures then death. A large tear slowly tracked down her cheek at the thought of this small one dying in such agony.

A loud thumping forced her from her reverie and she looked first at Gandalf then Sam who both were so exhausted they slept right through the racket. Slowly, she rose and made her way towards the front door. She lit a lamp along the way, as it was quite late for a visitor of any kind, and she became more and more angry as she padded down the hallway, determined to give this intruder a piece of her mind. She grasped the brass knob and pulled the door opened in one swift move. Words of reprimand died on her lips as she was confronted with the visage of a tall man completely covered in a black cloak. She gasped, letting out a small scream and dropping the lamp with a surprised crash. She was immediately engulfed in inky darkness and the silhouette of the stranger stood tall and black, framed within the doorway, against the encroaching starlight. She stood frozen with terror and was about to turn and run when a husky yet gentle voice spoke from the shadowy form.

"Are you injured, Mistress?" he asked with genuine concern.

"Nnoo, I don't believe so, sir," Bell answered in a shaky whisper.

"Do not move. There will be glass everywhere and you could be cut. I will fetch another taper. He walked into the hole, bending low to avoid hitting his head, and went to the fireplace. He bent, lighting a taper from the embers, and touched it to the wick of another lamp. He then proceeded to light two more lamps until the room was almost cheery with the light. Bell still stood very still, watching the stranger, and frozen in place. Even if she had wanted to run she was simply too frightened to do so. Strider turned towards her and pulled the hood back from his cloak. Bell was surprised to see a handsome man with gray eyes, eyes that seemed to be laughing lightly at her now, and a face that was not cruel but concerned for her welfare.

"I am terribly sorry if I have frightened you." He bent down and began picking up the broken glass. Bell soon realized her place and seemed to wake from her daze.

"No, no sir...Jes' let me, you'll be cuttin' yerself, you will " and off she went for a broom and pan. Once she had swept up all remnants of the lamp, she turned around and openly ogled the man. She was about to ask him who he was when a roaring blur of blond hair and furry feet catapulted itself across the room, landing squarely in the middle of the strangers large back, knocking him to the floor with a surprised 'oomph'.

"Be off with you, you mangy scoundrel or I'll have you, I will. No one's gonna hurt the one's I love and that'll be includin' me mum!" shouted Sam, who had the man pinned under him, arms over his head.

Strider could have easily over-powered the hobbit, and was close to laughter just picturing how ridiculous he must look now, with the small gardener upon his back, but thought it best to lie still so as not to further alarm the family. Still, a slow smile crept over his face.

"Samwise!! Where are your manners? It's not right you cappin’ one of the Big Folk, an all. He hasn't laid one finger on me and there's been no harm done other than bein' near scart to death, that is!" scolded Bell.

"Mum, he's too scraggily and, well....fell to be one of Mr. Gandalf's healer friends. He could be a thief or hobbitnapper, I heard them Big Folk likes ta steal hobbits and work 'em near ta death," Sam said resolutely. "Best go fetch Mr. Gandalf and we'll see what's what, eh Mister?" Sam concluded with a little jab at Strider's back. He was feeling quite proud of his capture and subsequent subduing of a potential ruffian.

Bell shook her head, but turned to retrieve the wizard, nonetheless. When she turned she spied the old man leaning on his staff and chuckling quietly to himself.

"Well, well...Sam, you've caught yourself a ruffian, I see," Gandalf said with a smirk. Strider began to say something in his defense, but a hard poke to the ribs stopped him mid sentence.

"Not one word outta you, you slimy, disgusting creature," Sam said to the bearded man, then he turned to Gandalf and proudly said, "Yes sir, Mr. Gandalf sir, caught him 'bout to hurt me mum, I did. ‘Stopped him cold," he smiled smugly up at the wizard.

Strider had had about enough of going along with this charade and decided to end it once and for all. Quick as a cat he twisted sideways, grasping Sam deftly by his hands, Sam let out a surprised yelp at this, and soon found himself easily pinned beneath the man.

The Stranger quickly wedged the furry feet beneath his legs, knowing first hand how quick and hard a hobbit could kick. He then held Sam's hands with one of his large ones, over Sam's head. He leaned down until he was very close to the frightened and very flustered face. He smiled widely into the large hazel eyes.

"I am no ruffian, although I understand your confusing me as one," the ranger spoke in a husky, low voice. "I mean you, nor any hobbit, harm, as I was sent for. You see...Samwise was it?" a trembling nod from Sam at the scruffy stranger."...Samwise, this wizard over here," he gestured with his free hand to Gandalf," who is so enjoying our first meeting, is a friend of mine," he turned to look at Gandalf, "and I his.” He turned back to Sam. "I am here to help one Frodo Baggins."

At the mention of his Master's name Sam's eyes grew even larger. "You came to help Mr. Frodo?" he asked with urgency. Strider smiled at the obvious devotion of this hobbit for the other, evidenced by the simple question.

"Yes. Now, I will release you if you promise not to kick me with those rather large feet of yours," Strider grinned. He reached down and tickled one of the furry feet, causing Sam to giggle and squirm.

"Yes sir, Mr...Mr. Ranger, sir. I'm awful sorry 'bout the name callin' an' all, but you don't look like any healer I've ever seen. Not that I've seen all that many other than Mistress Burrows, and there was an old hobbit by the name of Tendervine a long while back..."

"Samwise, stop your goin' on and let the healer be about his business," Bell said as she scrambled to Strider's side. Together they pulled Sam up. "I must be makin' my apologies as well, kind sir. You jes' gave me a start, you did was all," Bell said with a smile.

"I often have that effect on people, I've found," Strider said with a grimace. "I am equally sorry that I frightened you so," he continued as he slowly rose from his knees to his full height. Sam gasped and stepped back, his mother showing equal amazement at the sheer height of the man.

"Quickly Strider, you must see to young Baggins," said Gandalf. "Sam, why don't you and Mistress Gamgee see if there's some of those fine cakes and some tea to be had for our traveler," he added with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, and a knowing glance at Bell.

"Yes sir, Mr. Gandalf, sir," Sam scurried away towards the kitchen.

Bell placed her hand on Strider's arm, he looked down to her tear filled eyes.

"Bless us that you've come, sir. I hope you can help the Master better than I, my own skills bein' lessen' yer ow, in these matters," she said in a whisper.

Strider knelt once again so that they were looking eye to eye. "I will do my best, Madame. Could you please boil some water and bring it to his room, for me?" he asked gently.

"Aye, sir," she turned and proceeded towards the kitchen, dabbing at her eyes with her apron.

"Now, let us see to our patient," Strider said as he rose and they entered Frodo's room. Strider looked down at the small form swaddled in bandages and winced at the sight of all the blood weeping out onto the pillowcase. Frodo was drenched in perspiration, ragged gasps issued from his chapped lips. Strider pulled a small stool up to the bed. He nodded to Gandalf who gently pulled the lax form of the hobbit to his chest. Slowly, the ranger began unwinding the gauze until thick chestnut curls appeared, glistening with sweat. He examined the wound with a concerned frown on his face.

"Gandalf, this is most serious. It may be beyond my skills to heal such an injury. Lord Elrond has had some small success with wounds of this sort, and has taught me well. Still, even he is successful in saving the patient little more than half the time," he turned somber eyes in Gandalf's direction.

"I know, Strider. But you were our last, best hope at aiding him. Please do whatever you can," he gently caressed the soft curls. "This boy is quite dear to me and all those who truly know him."

Strider smiled grimly. He gently pressed around the wound and noted that the area had an extreme amount of swelling. "His skull has received a compression fracture which is pressing on his brain. This causes a fluid to build up around the brain, causing further injury. What you ask of me, to relieve the pressure, is exceedingly delicate work," he looked up at Gandalf sadly. "I could kill him just as easily as the wound."

"I realize this, my friend, but I would not see him suffer the fever, convulsions and death of this injury without at least attempting to bring him back to us," Gandalf said slowly. "Frodo is still with us. I sense his presence within," he gently touched the small forehead.

"And although he currently travels on a different plain than ours, he is aware of us. We must convince him to return. I detect a stubborn resolve to remain where he is, but once the physical wound is attended to, I believe he will come back to us willingly." Strider nodded. He had long ago discovered that asking how or why Gandalf could detect such things, would yield only cryptic answers. Elrond was much the same. Elves and wizards were a mystery that Strider accepted without question.

To be continued…

Now, special thanks to my reviewers...

FrodoBaggins87 – No, no, no…Frodo is never weak. In fact I think he’s one of the toughest hobbits ever. I’m glad you’re enjoying it so far, please, keep reading.

My-fool-of-a-took – Love your moniker by the way. Thanks for the feedback and I’m very pleased that you’re enjoying it so far.

Iorhael – It is sad that Frodo is so torn between the two realms but (trust me on this, I know the author) it will all work out in the end.

Samhain Feis – Yes, Frodo angst is like Nirvana to me, as well. It’s just so darn much fun to make him suffer then love him back to good health and happiness again. What is it that that’s called….oh, yeah…sick.

JesusFreak – So good to hear from you once again. That chapter was sad but I hope you enjoyed the lighthearted humor of this one…gotta have both, you know.

Leia Wood – Hope you will continue to read and enjoy, thanks so much for reviewing.