Disclaimer: All characters and places depicted are the sole property of the JRR Tolkien Estate; my only claim to fame is this small piece of fiction. No copyright infringement is intended.

Medical Disclaimer: While extensive research has been done, none of the cures or procedures depicted in this story should be used without first consulting a medical professional. Also there may be graphic medical details and wee hobbit behinds in this chapter, so if that makes you squeamish, you'd better pass.

I apologize for it taking me so long to update. RL has been frantic. I will do my best to update sooner, but be warned, I am in a real pile of do-do with my other activities so please, please be patient with me....and thanks as always, for being such devoted readers.

An AU tale about Frodo and the Ring of Power...

Chapter Five

"Questions Asked"

"...so cold still...to the fire? Afraid his chill would worsen'...stay beside him..." The soft murmur of voices and the general throbbing of his aching body strove to awaken Frodo. He thickly tried to lick at his parched lips but could find no hint of moisture in his mouth. He felt himself raised slightly and groaned as pain sliced through his hip and arm.

"I am sorry, my friend. Here, take small sips, Frodo," came a soothing voice. Something cool was pressed to his lips and its lukewarm contents trickled into his dry mouth. Tea, it was tea, his brain exclaimed, overjoyed at the surprise. He began to gulp and slurp hungrily but as he did, the cup was withdrawn. He whimpered pathetically, his mouth screaming for more of the delectable brew with which to quench itself. "Slowly, Frodo. You do not want to have it all come back up," the voice softly chided. The cup returned once again and this time Frodo tried not to slurp impatiently at the contents so that it would not, once again, be taken from him. "Better, much better. Now let's try some of the broth. Sam created it with you alone in mind and would be most pleased to have you enjoy it as well," came the voice.

Frodo froze. 'Created it with you alone in mind...' He felt the cup returned to his lips but this time he turned away, pressing his mouth into an unyielding line. Slowly he allowed his eyes to crack open and looked up into the confused face of the ranger.

"Won't you try a little, Frodo? It will warm and strengthen you. Just a few small sips?" Aragorn asked gently. Frodo's eyes widened as he looked up at Aragorn. Other faces appeared around the ranger peering down at him and beginning to talk all at once. Frodo gasped as his eyes lit on each person, fear evident on his face. Aragorn shushed them all and looked down, once again, at the now near panicked ringbearer. "Frodo. Do you know who I am?" He asked gently.

Frodo tried to quell his panic and swallowed thickly. "Y..es, Argor'" Frodo barely whispered.

Aragorn smiled. "That's right, and who is this?" he pointed to Sam.

"Ssam," Frodo replied, his eyes lingering on the worried face above him. Sam smiled, tears in his eyes.

"That's right, Master. We're all here and you're gonna be right as rain in no time," Sam whispered fervently.

"Please Sam," Aragorn said.

"Sorry sir. Didn't mean to interrupt," Sam said, looking down.

"Not at all, Sam. I wish only for Frodo to answer to make sure that your Master has had no memory loss." Aragorn looked back into Frodo's eyes, which, once again, widened in fear with the sudden scrutiny. Aragorn frowned. 'If Frodo knows who everyone is then what is making him so frightened?' he pondered to himself. "Frodo, who is this?" he pointed to Merry.

"Mer."

"And this?"

"Pip."

"Who is this person?" Aragorn pointed to Gimli.

Frodo frowned as a sudden pain lanced through his head. "'imli," he gasped. Aragorn reached for another cup and brought it to Frodo's mouth.

"Here, my friend, this will help with the pain." He tipped the cup, but at the last moment Frodo turned his chin away and the liquid ran down across his cheek. "Frodo? I realize it is probably bitter but it will ease you. Do not be stubborn now, please." Aragorn looked beseechingly into Frodo's frightened face. "We only wish to help you. You know that."

"No. No medicines," Frodo rasped and began coughing. It had a wet sound to it and Aragorn could feel Frodo's back clench as it tried to expel the mucous that had collected in his lungs. He lifted Frodo so that he was almost sitting and gently rubbed the back of the gasping hobbit. Frodo cried out in agony as his position was changed but the coughing was so intense he realized, suddenly, that he had a much more urgent problem; he could not breath. Choking more than coughing, he turned his sweat-covered face and panic filled eyes towards Aragorn. Aragorn turned Frodo so that he lay across his knees and delivered several thumps to the bruised and broken ribcage. At last Frodo vomited a thick bloody mucous, his body convulsing as he cried out in pain. When he was spent, Aragorn slowly rolled him back into his arms. A flurry of activity surrounded the two but to Frodo, only a dull pounding filled his head. His eyes were closed and sweat covered his pale face. Aragorn accepted a warm, damp cloth from Pippin and began washing Frodo's clammy features as the hobbit valiantly struggled to bring each breath into his infected lungs.

"There, there cousin. You are safe here with your friends and family," Pippin whispered as he drew slow circles with his fingertips gently over the elder cousin's left hand. Frodo's eyes opened a crack and he stared up into the green eyes above him.

"Pip?"

"Aye, Frodo." Pip's voice quavered making Aragorn suddenly aware of just how badly this whole experience had shaken the irrepressible Took.

"Thank you," Frodo said. Pippin bent and placed a kiss on Frodo's forehead. He pulled back suddenly, surprised at the heat that radiated from his kin. He glanced up at Aragorn, who nodded slightly, wordlessly telling him that he already knew of the fever that raged in the body he held loosely to his own.

"Anytime cousin," Pippin said with a slight smile. He rose and walked to where the others were sitting beside the fire, trying to give some room to the ailing hobbit. All eyes were turned on them, each face registering deep concern for their friend.

"Now Master Baggins, that we are somewhat alone, perhaps you could tell me what you are so afraid of?" Aragorn watched as Frodo squirmed against him, trying to evade the ranger's gray eyes. He winced and a low hiss escaped his lips as he bumped the right arm slightly.

"Nothing."

"You lie, ringbearer." Aragorn gave Frodo a scornful grin. "There is nothing to fear amongst those gathered here. All have worked most diligently to make you comfortable and well. He gestured to each as he spoke. Sam provided us with torches and some of his treasured rendered fat to light them, his cloak to wrap you in, as well as blankets, food and drink for all. He has not left your side since we returned." Frodo's eyes misted over as he looked over at his friend, the normally cheerful face now a mask of worry and stress. "Merry, Gimli and Boromir felled and then drug many trees to bring fuel for our fire. Boromir wove this basket and Merry and Pippin, the rope you see before you from the bark so that you could be lifted up the mountainside to safety." Frodo gazed in wonder at the woven goods. He looked over at the man and wondered if he could have been wrong about other things that had concerned him about the Gondorian. Merry smiled tentatively from across the room. Frodo winced as he tried to return the gesture. "Pippin was instrumental in preparing bandages and warming blankets to wrap about you. He, Gandalf and Sam prepared a hearty stew and pots of tea that waited for us and our return." Frodo laughed ruefully, picturing the last time Pippin had attempted to make a meal. The laugh turned into another coughing fit causing his head to pound and chest to feel as if it would explode. Aragorn gently rubbed the battered back. Finally the fit passed but it left Frodo weak and limp and he slumped against the ranger. Aragorn pointed to Legolas. "Legolas and I searched for you and brought you back to camp. If it had not been for all of the Fellowship working in unison towards this common goal, your safe return to us, we would have lost you, Frodo. So, tell me why you are suddenly so afraid of those who have worked so hard and with such depth of concern and love for you," he again looked into Frodo's eyes.

Frodo felt small and incredibly ungrateful of the companions in the room. His eyes filled with tears as he thought again of the lovely Lorelei and her warnings. "She said...she said..." he began to stammer.

"She who, Frodo?" a gentle, wizened voice asked from a darkened corner. "Of whom do you speak of, my dear hobbit?" Gandalf asked as he moved slowly towards Frodo and Aragorn. Frodo flinched back gasping in surprise and Aragorn frowned at the look of distrust that clouded the hobbit's features. Gandalf wore an expression of puzzled hurt.

"Frodo Baggins, why, in Eru's name do you quail before me? I have been your friend since you were a diminutive tot pulling on my beard." The wizard's brow furrowed with confusion and sadness. Frodo studied the wizard warily, trying to separate feelings of long time trust, love and respect from Lorelei's warnings. He still held onto the belief that she must be mistaken but could not shake the images she had so seductively planted in his brain.

"Who is this 'she' you speak of, Frodo? Has someone spoken with you, Frodo? It is essential that you tell us of anything that you hear, dream of, or feel, no matter how innocuous it may seem, if it disturbs you or causes you concern. Then we can help you decipher truth from lies. We are here to help you, Frodo. I am your advisor and friend while Aragorn has sworn his very life to protect you. If something bothers you, it should be aired so that we can discuss and solve the problem quickly thereby thwarting any attempt by evil from reaching you before it is too late," he whispered. His eyes were soft as he looked upon someone he thought of as a dear friend.

Frodo gave the wizard a questioning look. Aragorn watched Frodo's face closely and, if he had not known better, would have described the look in Frodo's blue eyes as one of doubt. Frodo had never doubted Gandalf to his knowledge. He knew the hobbit so respected and loved the Istari that he would have done anything the wizard wished if but asked of him, but now he saw *doubt*. A chill ran up his spine and he shivered at the thought of what could have possibly got to Frodo to cause him to question his friends. 'Preposterous. You are letting your imagination take hold. He is merely confused and exhausted, and well he should be. A very bad knock to the head in addition to all his other injuries, plus he's very ill, malnourished and hypothermic. All of these things or just one could make him anxious or disoriented,' he thought to himself. Still. There was something, something about the way Frodo looked at each of them, not just Gandalf, that emoted a feeling in Aragorn he seldom experienced; Fear. A cold trickle of dread clawed at his heart and caused his stomach to clench. What if something outside the Fellowship was trying to exert some sort of influence over the ringbearer and his new friend?

"Where were you?"

The barely audible question pulled Aragorn back from his musings. Gandalf leaned on his staff, bent towards the hobbit but far enough away so as not to be perceived as an immediate threat. The firelight flickered over his features and his shadow loomed large and menacingly on the cave wall.

"Where was I when, dear boy?" Gandalf asked.

"In Rivendell you said you had been 'detained' when I asked why you had not met us at the Prancing Pony. You never elaborated about what kept you from meeting us. Where were you, Gandalf?" Frodo asked again, his voice wavering. His furrowed brow gleamed with sweat and his breathing seemed to be becoming even more labored, Aragorn noted in concern.

The wizard stared hard at Frodo, a questioning look in his gray eyes. "I did not think it was pertinent at the time, to discuss what obstacles had been placed in my path but perhaps, that conversation is long over due," he murmured as he studied the patient, trying to understand the sudden change in Frodo's demeanor. He felt a chill wash over him as before, and wondered what had changed or what evil was being wrought to cause the looks of fear and distrust he now received from his young friend. "Very well Frodo, I will tell you what caused my delay if you will give me some information in exchange," he said, watching Frodo closely.

"What information?" Frodo's voice croaked. He eyed the wizard suspiciously.

"Tell us who 'she' is. And perhaps you could enlighten us as to your sudden defensiveness, suspicion and feelings of dread that have fairly filled this very room since your awakening," Gandalf said leaning further towards the hobbit.

Frodo's breathing quickened slightly causing a burst of harsh, ragged coughs to rip themselves from his narrow chest. His face twisted and blanched as the pain knifed through him, black dots danced before his eyes as he struggled to pull in even a single lungful of air. Aragorn raised him from his reclined position and motioned to Sam to bring him a basin of hot water. Frodo's situation was becoming more desperate by the second. His face was now a dusky purple and his lips blue, his efforts at coughing had all but stopped and it was apparent to Aragorn and the rest of the assembled members of the group, that he now barely drew breath. His eyes were open but unseeing and a gurgling sound could be heard as his chest labored for each agonizing pull. Aragorn pressed his fingers to Frodo's throat feeling a too rapid pulse beat and winced at what he knew he had to do, but there was little choice. He laid Frodo over one bent knee and pressed his right hand against the ringbearer's back. He pressed upwards firmly towards the thin shoulders causing Frodo to flail weakly against him. After some moments, Frodo began coughing again until he gagged. More of the thick, bloody mucous was expelled from his mouth and he collapsed, totally spent, across Aragorn's lap. Merry appeared at Aragorn's side and after dipping a cloth in the warm water, gently began to remove the spittle and vomit from Frodo's face. Sam had paled considerably when the fit had taken his Master. He had been at a loss of what to do so he had run back and forth gathering tea, broth and medicines along with warmed blankets and flannels so that he would be prepared when called for. Now he stood watching as Merry lovingly washed his Master, shifting from foot to foot, his face a map of grief and anxiety.

"Here Sam, sit. I need your help," Aragorn said after one glance at the gardener. He knew that if Sam felt helpless when it came to his Master, that one had to remedy the situation quickly or the devoted friend would find the circumstances unbearable and break down.

Sam was now kneeling beside Aragorn's knees and had a light hand lain on his Master's feverish brow. He flashed a quick smile and look of thanks to Aragorn. Aragorn smiled reassuringly back. "We need to try and open up his air passages. I will add athelas to this bowl of steaming water and then we will hold Frodo's head over it. We will cover his head with a cloth so that the vapors have the full effect on his lungs." Sam nodded his understanding. Aragorn crushed the athelas, murmuring to himself as he spread them on the surface of the water. Sam draped Frodo's head with his cloak as Aragorn held him over the steaming bowl. Gandalf watched concernedly from behind Aragorn. The others had formed a loose circle around the trio save for Legolas who was standing watch. Aragorn grimaced as he held Frodo by the shoulders. The hobbit hung over his arm like a child’s lifeless doll. No sound had he made except that of the strained inhale and exhale of air. He hadn't moved or shown any sign of consciousness. If they were unable to ease Frodo's breathing he knew the ringbearer would die as his body slowly drowned in its own fluids. A small cough, then another and then Aragorn felt the chest muscles begin to relax as the piney scent of the athelas filled Frodo's makeshift tent and then spilled over into the rest of the cave. Relieved sighs were heard about the room and Sam smiled hopefully up at the wizard and the ranger.

"We will keep him here for a few moments then, if I have all that I need, I will make a mustard plaster to give Frodo more relief," he said to the group. Slowly Frodo was removed from the drape and laid back against Aragorn's chest. His face was dewy from the combined moisture from the steam and his fever, his hair hanging in wet ringlets about his flushed face. Slowly he cracked open his eyes and a weak smile graced his face.

"Forgive me. I should not listen to her. But she is very persuasive and so very beautiful. So filled with white light that I cannot look fully upon her....I am so sorry, so sorry...." He closed his eyes again as fatigue fully claimed him.

"Frodo. Who? Whom do you speak of? Frodo you must tell us more," Gandalf 's voice rose as he willed the ringbearer to return to consciousness and speak more of this mysterious woman that had filled the hobbit's heart with lies and innuendo.

But Frodo would not wake.

To be continued-

And now my thanks to all who reviewed...

Tulip Proudfoot - I am so pleased to see you add your voice to the rest. I thought of the lightening one night and realized no one had yet tried it, that I knew of. Poor boy has had every conceivable ailment known to mankind so it's getting tough out there, finding new hurts for the poor soul.

Endymion2 - I am pleased that you continue to enjoy and review the fic. Thanks so much

Kellie - I would never abandon one of my fics. I quickly become very attached to them and want to see where each story takes me. I only know moments before you do. Thanks for reviewing.

Lindahoyland - I guess we will all have to wait and see how Frodo deals with all the conflicting information he is getting. Unfortunately, he seems to be a sucker for a pretty face like so many men (and women as well)

Grumpy - Love your moniker, by the way. I wanted to show that our very serious ranger could also have a little fun as well, no matter how dire matters seem to be. You have to remember the characters as humans or at least beings with feelings, it makes writing about them much more enjoyable and realistic.

ShireElf - Your gut was right about Lorelei, but our boy still thinks she's little miss perfect so we will just have to see if he will fall back on his intellect on this one.

Girlofthering - Our wizard is on the ball, never fear.