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 6

Spellbound

Lorelei sat slumped upon her "throne" looking decidedly exhausted. "Are you unwell, Mistress?" Astrid asked as she approached.

"I am simply fatigued. Keeping this form and the images surrounding me is very taxing." She clasped the black bead that lay against her alabaster throat tightly within her right fist. Her visage changed to that of a wrinkled, bent hag. Her eyes became entirely black, the center lit with orange flame, a deep maliciousness showing from the evil orbs. The hand was now a wrinkled claw with long discolored and broken nails. An eerie orange glow emanated from between her ancient fingers, and her eyes slowly closed. She took several deep breaths. Astrid had subconsciously stepped backwards, her eyes wide with revulsion and fear. She always recoiled at the sight of this malevolent being whenever it needed to tap its source of energy. Gradually the hideous creature began to morph back into the fragile and beautiful Lorelei. The hands were once more smooth and slender, her face glowing with youth and innocence. Her eyes were a crystal, clear blue and her hair changed from the oily, matted white strands to tresses that appeared to be spun of pure gold. Astrid began to relax as the conversion reached its climax and Lorelei now sat radiantly, before her. Lorelei smiled sweetly at her as she began to languidly brush her hair.

"I feel the ringbearer’s strength weakening, but he still wishes to cling to his companions for strength and succor. He trusts so completely their advice and counsel that turning his loyalties to me has sapped my powers greatly," she murmured tiredly. Her eyes flickered with the evil that lay barely concealed within their depths. "We may have to resort to a more aggressive coercion on our small friend," she leered menacingly at Astrid, her voice cracking. She cackled a spite filled laugh as Astrid cringed before her. Astrid had suffered the methods of persuasion that her mistress spoke of and a cold chill ran up her spine. She had been forced to do things she would have normally found distasteful, even repugnant for her. The mistress had controlled her so completely resulting in the total breaking of her will, mind and spirit.

"Mistress, can you not use your charms to break him?" Astrid asked meekly.

"You forget yourself, Astrid. I will have to arrange another one of our little sessions to cure you of your lack of obedience once this situation is resolved," she shot a wicked look at her servant. Astrid bowed at Lorelei's feet, a look of sheer terror in her eyes.

"No Mistress, I meant no harm. Forgive me, I entreat you," she begged.

"We shall discuss this at a later time. My energies are directed towards the hobbit at present," she sneered hatefully. She clasped the bead once more. "Yes. I believe it is time to utilize other methods to nudge our hobbit into seeing our side of things. The spell will be weaker than if I had him in the physical world, but nothing can be done for that, I suppose," she murmured, her bent and grasping hand clutched at the bead as she ruminated on the pending subversion of the ringbearer. She jolted herself from her reverie and peered down at the quivering servant at her feet.

"Astrid, I don't want you here when our little ringbearer returns. You're presence makes him uneasy. You seem to have that effect on most people; an uneasiness bordering on revulsion," she said disdainfully. Astrid cringed and bowed obsequiously as she backed from the room. "And bring some tea and those horrid seed cakes that hobbits are so fond of," she ordered.

"Yes Mistress."

"Be quick about it; he'll be here at any moment," she barked.

"Yes Mistress," Astrid whispered.

The tea and cakes were brought and placed on a low table by the fire and Astrid hurriedly withdrew.

Lorelei closed her eyes and concentrated on her appearance. Slowly she transformed into the ethereal being Frodo was so enamored of. She moved to a low couch and calmly began to pour tea. She took a cup for herself just as Frodo emerged from the darkened corridor. He walked slowly towards her and took a seat in the overstuffed armchair she indicated. The chair was immensely comfortable and he breathed a sigh of contentment as his broken body sank into the cushions.

"How are you my dear friend?" she asked, her face a mask of concern and empathy. She crossed to him as another chair, not as heavily padded as Frodo's but beautiful nonetheless, appeared across from him. She sank into the chair, set her tea down and took Frodo's hands in hers.

"Dear Lady, I was in the greatest pain until this very moment when I beheld you once again," Frodo whispered reverently.

Lorelei smiled sweetly. "How generous of you to say such kind words, Frodo. Please, I have tea and cakes. You must be famished." She retrieved a plate with cake surrounded by strawberries. A nice touch, she thought. I must congratulate Astrid's foresight when I see her next, she mused. She poured a cup of tea, sweetened it, and handed it to Frodo.

"Yes Lady, I am very hungry. I have yet to eat since rejoining my friends." He eyed the cake hungrily. Lorelei followed his gaze and smiled secretly.

"My poor, poor friend," she gushed as she handed Frodo the plate. His mouth salivated as he beheld the strawberries. He looked up at Lorelei and she nodded, smiling gently. He attacked the cakes as only a starving person could. As he ate, taking large bites almost before the last had been swallowed, he became aware that there was no flavor to the sweets, only the feeling of his hunger still unfulfilled. His mouth tasted of ash and he began to swallow with difficulty as the meal coalesced into a heavy, rancid lump in his stomach. He gulped the tea to dispel the queasiness overcoming him. He pushed the food from him and looked questioningly up at Lorelei. He realized he had never seen Lorelei eat and an uneasy feeling crept over him.

"Have you thought more about what we discussed earlier?" she asked softly.

Frodo shifted in his seat nervously. "I have Milady. I have known many of the Fellowship all of my life. The others I have the deepest respect for. I am sorry, Lorelei, I have tried to discern any sign of deception but have seen only love, concern and devotion for myself. I must keep my own council on this matter, I have decided. I will remain alert to signs of duplicity, but until I perceive such, I will continue to rely on their guidance and friendship," Frodo said thoughtfully.

Lorelei rose slowly and crossed to the fireplace, her face dark with anger. She fought to control her emotions and assume the aura of the graceful, but saddened, loser. Frodo watched her carefully, a feeling of trepidation beginning to fill his heart. ‘Why should I feel apprehensive concerning my decision and its effect on Lorelei? Did she not counsel me to trust my decisions and myself? Am I not doing just that?’ He thought to himself.

Lorelei turned back to Frodo, her face empty of emotion. She returned to her chair, clutching the bead with one hand and her staff with the other. She smiled sadly as the staff dipped imperceptibly. Frodo's body twisted in agony as stabbing pains knifed through his broken arm and hip. He gasped and tried to quell the nausea he felt swirling in his stomach. ‘I will be mortified,’ he thought, ‘if I vomit in front of this beautiful lady.’

"Oh, are you in pain, my friend?" she asked, a note of distain in her voice. Frodo was unable to answer; all his concentration focused on staying conscious. "I grieve for you, ringbearer. I fear your choice will doom the peoples of Middle Earth and you will be lost from this world in the process." Lorelei continued to ignore Frodo's obvious distress.

Frodo blanched, his brow covered in perspiration. "Still, I must listen to my heart on this matter. And my heart says that they are true, and their motives genuine. I do still have some doubts and questions that need answering. Sometimes I think Strider medicates my food or drink, but I am fairly certain he only does it because I have been so resistant, in the past, to taking my tonics, and that his motive is out of concern for my well being. Gandalf and Strider share many secret conversations that I am excluded from but I am sure, that they are only talking of the best ways to travel or other matters that do not require my attentions," Frodo gasped as yet another spasm gripped his battered body.

"I admire your trust in your friends. But I assure you, there are ulterior motives afloat within your Fellowship," she said, her voice sarcastic. Frodo began to object, but Lorelei silenced him with a raised hand. "I will not say that *all* of your companions have succumb to the pull of the Ring, but be wary, there is more at work here than you are willing to accept. She leaned forward in her chair, her long, delicate fingers caressing the black bead about her neck. Frodo's eyes were slowly drawn to it and he found he was powerless to look away. His pain dimmed as he sat, mesmerized, by the slow rolling of the bead between Lorelei's slender fingers.

He was weary and his eyes began to dip slowly closed. They crept back open but still his gaze lay upon the simple necklace. The center of the bead glowed with a malevolent fire and gradually the whole bead appeared to be aflame. Lorelei languidly continued to roll the bead between her fingers as she began to speak in a low, calm voice.

"Frodo are you all right?" she asked, her eyes wide, black disks. Her mouth was turned up into a predatory grin; her eyes sparkled with the reflected glow of the bead.

Frodo nodded slowly, in answer to her question.

"Frodo, you must heed Lorelei's council. Do you understand?" she said huskily.

Frodo nodded slowly, his blue eyes half-mast as the lull of Lorelei's voice and the vision of the bead filled his mind.

"Frodo, do not trust your companions. They want only the Ring. They will take It for themselves," she said softly.

Frodo's left hand moved possessively to his neck and he clutched the ring within his fist. "No, It is mine...mine alone," he said dreamily.

"One will take It from you, someone that you trust. Someone that you thought sought only to help you and aid you, but secretly craves YOUR RING," she said encouraging Frodo's paranoia.

"No... Mine. I will not give It up," he gasped, a sudden pain gripped his chest.

"They will act as if they are concerned for your health and welfare. They will bring you medicines, especially bitter ones, food and drink. You must not take it. It is poisonous. A slow poison courses through your veins even as we speak. They have been slowly poisoning you since Rivendell. Do you understand, Frodo?"

Frodo's body, drenched in sweat, twitched as he fought this idea. His face twisted in confusion and skepticism.

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND, FRODO?" Lorelei dipped her staff imperceptibly and Frodo cried out in pain.

"Yes...yes, I understand, Milady," he screeched.

"Frodo, look into my eyes," Lorelei commanded softly. Frodo's eyes met Lorelei's and he could not look away. Her eyes were as two black beads filled with a fierce, penetrating orange flame that seemed to reach deep within his soul, robbing him of any feelings of warmth or love. In their place the dark tendrils of doubt, despair and paranoia were kindled.

"Frodo. The tea in front of you is a medicinal blend made just for you by your Strider. Please drink it. Drink it all, it is good for you," she ordered.

Frodo took the cup and peered deeply into the contents. He looked at it skeptically until suddenly he tossed it to the floor, the cup shattering. "I cannot. When I look upon it I feel nauseous," he said sadly. Lorelei smiled triumphantly.

"Frodo. Sam baked these seed cakes with only you in mind. Eat, you are too thin, my friend," she tempted.

Frodo took a cake and stared long and hard at it. He was so hungry, but the cake was moldy and covered in maggots. He turned away in disgust. "It is rotten," he gasped, swallowing his gorge.

"All food and drink. All medicines are this way, Frodo. You will surely die if you partake of them," she said sonorously. "Do you understand?"

Frodo's eyes closed slowly. "Yes, I think I do," he replied hesitantly, his voice quavering.

Lorelei was not completely satisfied with the tone and phrasing of Frodo's reply, especially the tentatively spoken word "think", but decided it was perhaps, the best she was to get and proceeded to her next 'factual'. "You can only trust Lorelei. She is your friend and cares deeply for your well-being. Do you understand?" she asked.

Frodo nodded slowly, his brows knit together as if he were puzzled or had forgotten something important and was concentrating very hard to try and remember what it had been. Lorelei too, frowned. She tipped her staff towards the hobbit. Frodo gasped and clutched at his broken arm. His gaze drifted to the limb as it gushed bright red blood, the bones poking raggedly from the swollen skin. Bile rose in his throat and he looked away. When next he looked back, the arm appeared as it should and he stared at it in confusion.

"Frodo, do you trust only your Lorelei?" she asked fervently.

Fear clutched at Frodo. Fear of yet more pain if he were to answer wrongly. His eyes filled with tears as they gazed unblinking into Lorelei's hard, unsympathetic ones. He swallowed slowly, "Yes...I trust Lorelei," he whispered. Again, she noted the missing "only" but was becoming weary subjecting the hobbit to the constant control. She was afraid if she tarried to long in the enslavement and breaking of the ringbearer, she would be unable to retain her appearance and that of her surroundings. If only she had him in front of her physically she would have had him begging for a mere word from her. She would have had him groveling on the floor before her like a dog being beaten by its master. She grinned at the thought. She looked at the quivering, perspiring being before her. He was obviously in agony. The 'food' he had eaten was not, after all, real nor was the tea, so he was still starving and dehydrated. She felt nothing as she looked on him except greet, desire and jealousy. Soon the ring would be hers to wield. In time she would, of course, relinquish it to Sauron, but now she only wished to feel it on her finger, feel the power as it coursed through her. All would bow before her, and those who would not, would pay a bitter price for their treason. The ringbearer would have served his purpose and if his injuries did not slowly and agonizingly kill him, she would show him the true meaning of "trust and friendship."

"And you will not trust the Gray Wizard, Gandalf, will you?" Frodo groaned and writhed before her. "I am only protecting your own best interests, Frodo," Her eyes gleamed with pure evil as she knelt down by the hobbit where he lay quivering on the floor at her feet. "Saruman is your only, true friend. Take the ring to him and by his omnipotent wisdom that he alone possesses, he will guide you and lead you to do the right thing for all of Middle Earth.

Frodo began to cough harshly, clutching his broken arm to his chest. A thick line of bloody saliva pooled next to his face on the cold floor. He struggled to draw a breath, but was unable to find the room in his fluid filled lungs.

"Will you trust Gandalf or will you trust Saruman The Wise?" Lorelei asked sweetly.

Frodo looked up into the blackened eyes but saw only the lovely maiden, so complete was his trance. He knew, deep down, that something was very, very wrong but his thoughts were sluggish and foggy, only registering the fact that a question had been asked and, if not answered soon, for some reason his body would, once again, scream in agony. He struggled to remember what the question had been but a loud buzzing had begun to fill his senses and he found coherent thought and reason beyond him. As the last of his air was running out and he realized he was about to die, he felt a calmness and peace he had not thought possible since the ring. ‘Finally the pain and worry will end and I'll be free,’ he thought. Despite his agony, a small smile touched his lips.

************************************************************************

"Strider! Help him!!" Sam screamed. At once all of the sleeping company was on their feet and rushing towards the struggling hobbit. Even as Strider approached he could see that Frodo's arms and body were beginning to quiet and he dove forward, grabbing the hobbit, bending him over his lap and, with a cupped hand, he delivered several blows to the narrow back. A putrid, viscous, fluid oozed from Frodo's slack lips. Frodo had stopped struggling altogether now, his face and lips a dusky blue while his eyes were glazed over, unseeing. Aragorn knew Frodo was all but dead but would not concede defeat as yet. He increased the strength of his strikes and lowered Frodo so that his head hung down towards the floor. More of the bloody mucous drained from his mouth and finally a small whimper, followed by the sound of a ragged breath being drawn, caused Aragorn to still his fists. He began to pull Frodo back up but the small body convulsed, and blood tinged mucus spewed forth. Sam was instantly there wiping Frodo's mouth as he wiped his own tears on his sleeve. Aragorn rolled Frodo slowly over and sucked in a slow breath. Frodo's mouth was open in a silent scream; his pain too great to articulate. Tears flowed freely down his face as he looked up into the ranger's face.

"Help...me...please," he gasped.

"Yes Frodo, I will do all I can, my small friend," Aragorn whispered. He turned to the rest of the group. "I need the fire to be built up and several pans of hot water put on to boil. Boromir, do you and Legolas think you could rig something to help block the wind and hold the heat into this room?" Both nodded and briskly moved away. "Gandalf, I need some cloth to wrap his chest in and then more to make a mustard plaster out of."

Gandalf nodded. "You shall have it. Aragorn, how bad is this sickness? Can you save him?" The wizard asked, concerned.

"It is very serious, but I believe with some nourishment, proper medicinal treatments and some much needed rest, we can save Frodo," Aragorn said slowly. Gandalf smiled slightly, reassured, and strode off in search of cloth.

"I will chop more fuel," Gimli said as he hefted the axe and strode outside to the stack of downed trees left by the entrance.

"Sam, please heat water for tea and reheat the broth from earlier." Sam hesitated, not really wanting to leave Frodo's side for fear of what might happen in his absence. Aragorn saw the concern and frustration that lined the gardener's face. He turned to Merry who was already at his side.

"I'll do it, Sam," he said with a quick smile to Aragorn. Sam smiled his thanks as Merry moved to the fire. Sam jumped up to retrieve his bag in case there was something from within that would be of use. Aragorn watched as Sam became involved in a heated debate with Gandalf and admired the hobbit's bravery at confronting the wizard.

"I want to help too. What can I do, Strider?” Pippins clear voice piped.

Aragorn turned and smiled into the concern filled green eyes as they looked up into his. "Pippin, have you ever made a mustard plaster?" he asked gently.

"Aye, I have. I was always sick with pneumonia, usually at Yule, it seemed," he grinned. "And the healer always wrapped my chest in those," he wrinkled his nose. "Smelly and hot, as I remember. Well, one time I was really bored and tired of being sick so Phinea, our healer, showed me how she made them. I made a small one with her, and an awful mess as well, if I remember right," he grinned up at Aragorn. Aragorn could not resist a grin in return. Picturing the Took involved in making a mess was not that difficult. He pointed to his pack.

"Bring me my pack, Pippin, and let's see what you remember," he said. Pippin scurried to the bag and dragged it back over to Aragorn. He looked into Frodo's eyes, gently moving the sweaty hair out of his cousin's face. Frodo slowly closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling in rapid pants.

"He's awful hot, Strider," Pippin said in alarm.

Aragorn was rummaging through the healer's pouch as he looked up. "He is very sick, Pippin. We need to get his fever down but first we need to ease his breathing so he can rest and recover a bit. You and I are going to make a mustard plaster to help loosen up his chest," he said, pulling out two or three pouches and setting them on the floor. When Aragorn opened the first pouch, the acrid odor of ground mustard wafted into the cave, making all who were near by tear and cough. Pippin retrieved one of Sam's small bowls and Aragorn measured out the mustard. To this mixture he also added a small amount of red pepper and water. He mixed the concoction until he had a smooth paste.

Gandalf strode over to the trio, wide strips of one of Sam's nightshirts in his hands. "Sam insisted on tearing these cloths from his own nightshirt," he said with a grin.

Sam was at the wizard's heels and blushed upon overhearing the comment. "It's only fittin' that I should want to help Mr. Frodo after all he's done for me," Sam muttered. He knelt down next to his Master.

"Mr. Frodo? Mr. Frodo, me dear, can ya hear me, sir?" he whispered anxiously. Frodo's eyes fluttered slowly open and he looked up into Sam's. Sam took his Master's left hand and smiled gamely. "We've got yer broth all ready soon as Mr. Pippin and Mr. Strider get you all fixed up," he murmured. Gently, he smoothed a sweaty lock from his Master's eyes. Frodo slowly closed his eyes with a slight nod that he had heard. Slowly, Aragorn laid Frodo face down on the blankets and began to uncover the hobbit's back. He unwound the bindings about the fractured ribs and hissed at the multiple bruises that he saw. Legolas came over and squatted down at Frodo's head. He glanced from the battered back up into Aragorn's guilt ridden face.

"There was nothing else you could have done, Estel. Frodo would have surely died if we had not had a healer with such a fast reaction time and to know that blows were necessary in order to enable him to breathe again.

Aragorn gritted his teeth and clenched his eyes shut. "It is barbarism to have to use such force on one who is so gravely injured," he growled. Legolas knew his friend very well and also knew that to discuss the matter further would not change Aragorn's mind, so he held his tongue. He, instead, retrieved a bowl of warm water and produced three athelas leaves, handing them to Aragorn. Aragorn smiled gratefully at Legolas as he broke the leaves and whispered the sacred words. Lovingly, he wet a flannel, wrung it out, and washed Frodo's back. He lifted him into his arms and continued to lave the front. Frodo's breathing eased somewhat, and the perpetual frown upon his forehead, relaxed. A small cough and then a weak sigh issued from his lips. Aragorn smiled down at the ringbearer who was obviously, enjoying the warmth and scent of the healing plant. Sam held out a small towel, which Aragorn received with another smile of thanks, and he gently dried the damp skin. He turned to Gandalf and retrieved the first strip of nightshirt, which he wound about Frodo's chest. He lay Frodo back onto the blankets and spread the other cloth over the first. Using one of Sam's wooden spoons he slowly and with great tenderness, applied the paste over the cloth. The rest of the material was then folded up and over the plaster, holding it in place. A heavier cloth was wrapped about Frodo to hold in the heat of the mustard. Aragorn sighed. "We will need to check it occasionally to make sure it is not too hot for his skin. I would like to leave it in place all night, if possible.

Sam rose and fetched the broth that he poured into a short cup. Aragorn sniffed it appreciatively. It smells delicious, Sam. But I want you to add this and just a pinch of this, and don't get it in your eyes," he instructed, handing Sam the red pepper and the garlic.

"Garlic? The red pepper, aye, I can see that it makes a cold a mite better what with all the running of the nose and all, but I never heard much about garlic 'cept in stews," he said skeptically.

"Garlic swallows are an age old treatment for infection. It is a powerful aid against almost any ailment. Since Frodo won't be chewing, chop it extra fine and press it firmly against the side of the cup before pushing it into the liquid," Aragorn instructed. "Pippin would you place these three herbs into a cup for tea, please?" He handed small amounts of the chosen leaves to Pippin. Pippin sniffed at the odd looking flowers and wrinkled leaves. He frowned.

"He'll never drink this; it smells awful," he said. Legolas chuckled and continued to finger comb Frodo's hair.

"I know," Aragorn said, frowning. "I wish we had something to sweeten it with," he mused.

"Oh, aye, I brought some, uh...," Sam looked quickly at Pippin and then looked down.

Aragorn and Legolas looked at him waiting for him to finish what he was going to say.

"Some what, Sam?" Pippin asked, his eyes lighting up expectantly.

"'Jes never you mind...sir...it's only for in case Mr. Frodo shoulda wanted it," Sam said with a huff.

"Pippin?" Pippin looked around at Aragorn.

"Hmm?"

"The tea, please," Aragorn said, pointing towards the fire.

"Oh...sorry, Strider," Pippin said, abashed.

"Come, Master Took, you wouldn't want to delay your cousin from feeling better now would you?" Gandalf asked as he expertly guided the chattering hobbit to the fire.

"All right Sam, what were you about to say now that Pippin's gone?" Aragorn asked, smiling.

Sam leaned close to Aragorn and Legolas and, after a quick look over his shoulder, whispered "I brought a few pieces of candied ginger 'cause I know it's one o' Mr. Frodo's favorites," he said smiling.

Legolas smiled as Aragorn slowly shook his head, a large grin on his face. "How do you do it, Sam?" Sam looked confused. "How do you always know what he will need or want?" Aragorn asked.

Sam blushed. "It's naught more than jus' bein' prepared, is all." He looked at them, embarrassed. "I likes ta put all sorts o' useful things in me pack and then when Mr. Frodo mutters about needin' this or needin' that, I brings it out. I like the look he gives me, like I was the smartest and most useful hobbit in all of Middle Earth. It makes me feel, well, *needed* and kinda special like. I want ta make sure that Mr. Frodo is never sorry I followed after him so I gots ta' prove my worth," Sam said with a firm nod.

Legolas glanced over at Aragorn who was staring at Sam, stunned. "Sam, you could do absolutely nothing except keep Frodo company and be his friend and he would appreciate you *just* as much. He values your friendship greatly, surely you know that?" Legolas said.

"Well, I suppose, but I still likes for him to think I've thought of everything. I bes' go get the ginger afore Mr. Pippin gets curious about what's in me pack," Sam said and rose quickly.

After he was gone, they heard a murmured "I don't deserve him. He is my best friend and I don't deserve the care and kindness he showers and smothers me with."

Legolas started and looked down at the ringbearer. "Frodo, you overheard our little conversation?" Aragorn leaned over and saw that Frodo's eyes were moist, but there was a small smile on his lips. Aragorn smiled slowly back at him.

"Yes, but you are not to tell him," he whispered. "Do we understand each other Legolas? Strider? Part of what I think brings Sam such joy is his ability to look like he has 'visions' about what I'll want. If he knew that I knew, it would ruin all his fun," he said. His eyes slowly closed, the brief conversation having drained his limited energies.

Sam returned, holding a small bag, while Pippin was still distracted squashing the garlic into the soup cup. He dropped two small pieces of the candied ginger into the tea. Slowly, Aragorn raised Frodo to lean against his chest. Legolas swirled the tea and then brought it to Frodo's lips.

"Frodo? Frodo, you need to drink this tea. It will make you feel much better, Aragorn assures me," Legolas said, grinning at Aragorn. Frodo's eyes slowly cracked open.

"Tea?" It sounded marvelous; he was so thirsty. And Sam would have been pleased that he was also desperately hungry and would now take the proffered food items he so carefully prepared. But the spell Lorelei had cast over him was so complete that the thought of drinking the tea or eating the rotten food items, for this is how he now perceived them, caused his throat to clench and his stomach to roll. "No...No tea." he rasped. In addition Frodo's brain still registered that tea and food would cause him to suffer great agony for that is what always happened while with Lorelei. He did not remember the staff and Lorelei smiling vindictively down at him as he writhed on the floor of the room, only that to accept anything from his companions would cause the stabbing pain in both his arm and hip.

"Frodo, you must drink the tea and sip the broth. You are severely dehydrated and undernourished. Your body will be unable to fight off the infection if you do not eat or take your medicine," Aragorn said frowning. He looked into Frodo's eyes and frowned. The ringbearer seemed to be in some sort of trance. He waved his hand back and forth in front of Frodo's eyes, but the hobbit did not blink he only continued to stare off seemingly in some other world.

"No. Can't... can't take the pain any longer. She said...she said... poisoned... since Rivendell," he said dreamily.

"Did he say poisoned?" Aragorn gasped. Legolas nodded slowly.

"No Mr.Frodo, we would never do such a thing. We're your friends and are trying to make you better. You jes' gotta drink the tea or you'll not get cured," Sam said anxiously, sure that his Master had misunderstood them.

Frodo's eyes widened and Aragorn could feel the hobbit’s heartbeat increase alarmingly. Tears began to flow from Frodo’s eyes and Aragorn shushed him softly. "Easy Frodo, easy. Do not upset yourself or you will begin to cough again. I understand that you hate the tonics I press on you and that they are sometimes bitter or distasteful, but you have never used the word 'poisoned' before. I assure you they are quite safe and the broth very tasty," he said gently.

All the members of the fellowship had gathered about him after hearing Sam's exclamation. They wore looks of confusion and concern, wondering what had caused the drastic change in Frodo's behavior. Aragorn tried once more to press the cup to Frodo's lips but the ringbearer weakly turned his head away. He began to sob knowing that if he drank the tea he would be in agony. But he was so very thirsty and the broth smelled heavenly. His stomach growled, not certain if the food was as it smelled or if it was riddled with maggots and decay. As he wavered he was suddenly engulfed with excruciating pain. His arm and legged screamed in agony and throbbed in rhythm with his quickening pulse. He gasped; amazed that any living thing could withstand such agony. He struggled, trying to move away from the faces that were drawing closer and surrounding him. Aragorn, alarmed at the unexpected reactions and the obvious distress of the ringbearer, tightened his hold around Frodo's chest, speaking words of comfort to try still the writhing ringbearer. But Frodo was like a frightened animal and only struggled more frantically against his captors. The faces leering down at him transformed into hideous beasts, drool dripping from their mouths over rotten teeth as they closed in on him, hungry looks in their eyes.

Aragorn was aghast at the terror that Frodo seemed to be experiencing as his friends approached him in concern. Frodo seemed oblivious to everything but escaping the fellowship. Aragorn looked up and waved the rest of the group back trying to cease the struggle of the hobbit. They looked on in pity as they moved back towards the fire. They watched silently as Aragorn tried once again to get the hobbit to drink the tea. Frodo turned away shouting, "Stay back...I will not let you take it .... It is mine, mine alone." He managed to slip out from under Aragorn's arm and scoot slowly away from his comrades. He was panting, his face a pasty white, his eyes darting fearfully around the room. His uninjured arm shook violently as he put all of his weight on it and tried to pull himself to safety.

"This is outrageous. Where would you get such an outlandish idea, Frodo Baggins?" Gandalf bellowed. Frodo jumped and cringed backwards even further.

"Gandalf, please, be at peace," Aragorn said, giving the wizard a warning look.

"I am sorry if I scared you Frodo," Gandalf said as he knelt down at eye level with the hobbit. "You just took me by surprise, is all. Here, give me the cup Aragorn," he said, reaching for the cup. The wizard moved towards Frodo slowly. Frodo looked desperately around but could find no means of escape, his back pressed firmly against the cave wall. Adrenaline coursed through him, and he kicked frantically at the wizard. Aragorn had been waiting for such a distraction and grabbed the terrified ringbearer, pressing his arms to his side while Sam grabbed and held his legs down. Frodo twisted and writhed, his eyes wild as he gasped for air. Gandalf brought the cup to Frodo's mouth while Legolas pinched the hobbit's nose closed. Frodo struggled even harder and set his mouth in a firm line. But his body was desperate for air and when he opened his mouth to take a breath, Gandalf moved in quickly, pouring in the tea. Aragorn reached up and held the hobbit's mouth closed while he stroked the small throat. Frodo had little recourse but to swallow. Aragorn released his hold on Frodo's jaw allowing the hobbit to pull in a harsh breath. A coughing fit followed and they paused until Frodo began to inhale harshly. Again the procedure was repeated with Gandalf pouring the tea and then the broth into the hobbit's mouth until, at last, both of the cups were emptied.

Aragorn called to Merry to retrieve a small jar with a gold lid, from his pack. Merry quickly found the desired jar and opened it for Aragorn. A gray paste lay within. "I was hoping I would not have further need of this," Aragorn muttered. He dipped his finger into the paste pulling up a small glob. "Merry, open Frodo's mouth, and mind the teeth, he might try to bite you. Frodo threw his head violently back and forth trying to avoid his cousin. Legolas grabbed Frodo's head and held it still while Merry pried open the clenched jaw. Merry looked deep into Frodo's terrified eyes but there was not even a glimmer of recognition there, only desperation.

Aragorn smeared the paste on the inside of Frodo's cheek then forced the mouth shut, stroking Frodo's throat. At a nod to Legolas, the elf pinched Frodo's nose closed. Frodo stared up at Legolas, his eyes pleading, as he struggled. At last he swallowed and Aragorn released him. They held him until he began to relax, the drug slowly taking effect. At last he stilled and Aragorn placed him gently back onto his bed. No one spoke, all to dumbfounded by the display.

"I fear something or someone is influencing our dear friend. This could be most disastrous for Frodo and for the quest. I fear for him. I believe if this continues Frodo will soon be unable to discern friend from foe and eventually, the conflict and uncertainty will drive him insane." The wizard spoke slowly as he sat besides the hobbit and watched as Frodo fought against the effects of the drug. His motions quelled and he sagged back against the bedding. "I fear for you my friend. I fear for all of us," Gandalf said quietly.

To be continued-

I received a mountain of reviews and was so very pleased. I would like to take a moment and thank all of those who took the time to read and enjoy the story-

ShireElf - I think in some way, that Frodo does realize that he is being manipulated by Lorelei, but as you saw in this chapter, he is virtually powerless now to do anything about it. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing.

endymion2 - Thanks for taking the time to review. How was your holiday? Hope that this chapter was enjoyable for you.

heartofahobbit - I do seem to love my angst, don't I? LOL, more to come after my company leaves (at least 2 weeks, probably eek!)

Braellyraleatherleaf - Glad you're enjoying it. I'm having alot of fun with it as well.

Kellie - Get used to that edge of your seat, my dear, I love cliffhangers (not reading them, writing them!) I hope this was worth the wait, sorry it takes me so long to get a chapter posted.

lindahoyland - Thanks so much for your kind review! I too, am a sucker for Frodo-Aragorn interaction. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

grumpy - Love your moniker, btw. Remember, Frodo is really sick and his dream world is becoming harder and harder to seperate from his real world. I would imagine the reason he chooses the dream world over reality is that, usually, it is far less painful for his body. And we all know what suckers men are for pretty faces (although I have yet to experience this personally).

FrodoBaggins87 - (Author is very tickled to be added to author alert list and blushes furiously) It gets even better...he he he

Althea - Welcome to our crazy little angst loving group! I appreciate so much your insights on my other fic Twists of Fate and took immediate action to remedy that little mistake. I couldn't figure out what exactly was bugging me about the chapter, and you helped me to see it clearly. Many, many thanks....glad you're reading this fic as well. I thought it had the novelty of never being tried, and couldn't wait to put it down on paper. Hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you like angst there is much more to come, I promise. LOL

Tulip Proudfoot - My chapters were way too long,,,,I couldn't seem to force myself to stop writing and just kept going. It made my updates few and far between (which, unfortunately they still are) and hard for people to read who didn't have a lot of time to sit down and read a really long chapter. So I tried to shorten them and have been much happier with the results. This chapter, is alot longer than I intended. Those pesky customers, family and jobs are such a pain. Don't they realize that there is fanfiction to be read and written? I mean, to me, my idea of heaven is to just paint or write all day long....who needs money, right? LOL Hope you enjoyed this chapter, more to come.