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.

<$1p>Rescue

Sam's movements were rushed as dinner was prepared in short order. Aragorn watched him, concerned that he had said too much and had alarmed the gardener to the point of panic concerning his Master's health. The stew was thick with pieces of rabbit meat, potatoes and carrots, garlic, onions and Sam's special dumplings. For a time no one spoke, all relishing the meal. Afterwards compliments were showered profusely upon the cook, although they went largely unnoticed by the distracted hobbit. Sam separated small amounts of the meal into another pot for himself and Frodo. He sat it on a flat stone besides the fire to keep it warm. Pippin eyed it hungrily until he received a ferocious glare from Sam, then declared himself full. He and Merry rose to collect snow to melt and wash the dishes and pans as Sam collected his pack and hastily made for the small opening to the other cave.

Aragorn stopped him saying, "If he is in need, call to me. I will be here beside the doorway."

Sam nodded. "Mr. Frodo probably won't even let me inside, Mr. Strider, but, yes sir, I'll do that if'n I gets in to see him," he said hurriedly. He leaned inside the portal trying to see within, but the room was pitch black and all that could be heard was the slow dripping of water from the high ceiling. He shivered, alarmed that, unlike the other cave, this one was drafty and bitterly cold.

"Mr. Frodo?" he called, receiving only the echo of his own voice in response. "Mr. Frodo?" There was still no answer. Icy tendrils of panic gripped Sam's heart and he called loudly, "Frodo!"

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

The servant entered the room bearing the requested tea. He approached the high backed chair and stared worriedly at the slumped figure before him. "Master?" he asked in concern.

"It is no use. I will be unable to continue the charade for many days. I am fatigued to the point of collapse and need rest." The voice held none of its normal hypnotic cadence or strong, booming power. It was the voice of a very old, very tired husk of a man. The features of the bearer of the voice had changed drastically as well. Gone were the lovely heart shaped face and golden tresses of the siren Lorelei. In its place the 'Master's' true identity was laid bare. Long dirty white hair hung down to the waist of his once iridescent robes. His dark eyes lacked luster and were sunken into the pasty, haggard countenance. Shakily he took the tea and drank slowly.

"But, my Lord, what of the Ringbearer? Will he not seek out Lorelei for guidance?" The servant asked worriedly.

The figure turned to look at the man that groveled at his feet. "He may, although I feel he is near death and may not have the strength to withstand another of our 'sessions' even if I had the strength to deliver one. He is firmly under the lovely Lorelei's spell and I see no reason why we need be concerned. His situation will have little changed by the time I have sufficiently regained my powers to coerce him further. I have one last task to perform then I shall rest for many hours," he said. He smiled widely revealing crooked, discolored teeth, the predatory gleam, once again, lighting his eyes. Fearfully the servant backed from the room.

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

He walked carefully around the edge of the room, his hand brushing lightly across the rocks as he passed. The occasional pop of a twig would sound as the dying fire consumed it, the embers casting a weak, flickering light upon the cold eyes of the dead. Frodo's breath hitched as he saw Sam, who lay facing towards him, eyes unseeing, a trickle of blood oozing from a head wound.

"Oh Sam," he sobbed. Angrily he looked towards the darkened corner in search of the monster who had killed his friends.

"So you have returned, Ringbearer," the voice sneered. "Had to have another peek at what you have done?" Mocking laughter seemed to surround him as the sound echoed off the walls.

"Who are you? I must know who did this thing," Frodo said angrily.

"But I told you, Frodo, *you* did this." An arm emerged from the shadows and pointed accusingly at the bodies of his comrades.

"No. That is..." Frodo began. He was cut short by the image of Lorelei suspended above the cave's floor, a sad smile on her lips.

"Oh, Frodo, I am so very sorry for you and your loss. If only you had heeded my counsel all of this could have been avoided," she said as, she too, pointed towards the bodies.

"Lorelei, tell me who did this, please," Frodo plead. She turned towards the darkened corner and a shadowy figure emerged. Frodo studied what he could see of this person but it was too dark to discern anything. At that moment a loud pop from the fire threw light against the darkened corner and the figure removed his hood.

Frodo screamed, "No this cannot be!" He fell to his knees weeping. Wicked laughter caused Frodo to look up into the once cherubic face. Instead of the light of innocence, caring and love in the blue eyes, there was a malicious gleam. "I told you Frodo, *you* did this, Frodo," said the once sweet, tenor voice.

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

Frodo jerked awake, his eyes swiveling about the room as he shook off the remnants of the nightmare. This room held no low crackling fire only inky blackness and, for a moment, he could not remember where he was. Slowly fragments of a memory came back to him. He recalled the slow, painful exodus to the small cave as he had left those he suspected were after the Ring. His cheek lay frozen against the sand and all feeling in his toes and fingers had long since left him. He attempted to push himself up but had not the strength to do so. He slumped back down to the sand, and his eyes began to slowly close as the frigid temperature crept further into his body. He was surprised that he felt very little pain only a peaceful somnolence as he lay on the glacial floor. 'This is not so bad,' he thought to himself. 'I should move, should try to move, the cold...shouldn't sleep...but I am so very tired.' These random thoughts passed languidly through his brain as his eyes began to close. 'I'm sorry, Sam. I'm sorry that I was not strong enough.' He wept bitterly at his perceived failure and it was this small sound that a frantic Samwise heard as he squeezed through the opening to the small cave.

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

"Strider!" Sam shouted, although there was no need as Aragorn had quickly materialized at Sam's side upon hearing the gardener's first desperate cries.

"Sam, you must go in and find him whether he wants you to or not," the ranger urged. There was a frantic look in his eyes and Sam thought briefly that he had never seen that side of the healer.

"But...oh blast it all! Mr. Frodo needs me and I don't give a wit about his suspicions or doubts." Legolas appeared beside Sam and handed the gardener a torch. Sam slowly entered the cave, his eyes sweeping the room for movement. As he approached the pool he heard Frodo whimper. His Master lay on his stomach, hair frozen to the shallow puddle.

"Oh Sam," came the faint lament and then there was only the steady sound of Sam's footsteps as he ran to Frodo's side.

"Mr. Frodo. Mr. Frodo," Sam shook his master trying to bring about any response. He gently moved his friend onto his back, away from the pool and raced back to the opening where several concerned faces looked in.

"He's near frozen to death, Mr. Strider. We need to get him out afore he's gone from us," Sam sobbed, frantic.

"Pippin, Merry hang all blankets you can find by the fire. Gimli please put some large rocks in the coals," Strider urged, turning towards the awaiting Fellowship. "The blankets will take time to warm and..."

Boromir placed a hand on Aragorn's shoulder causing the ranger to turn. In his arms he held the fur-lined cloak that had, only moments ago, protected his large frame. It was still warm and Aragorn smiled thankfully at the Gondorian. Boromir smiled in return. "I need it not and wish to give succor to the Ringbearer," he said worriedly. Aragorn clasped the hand on his shoulder companionably knowing that, at that moment, Boromir's feelings were clear. He took the gifted cloak and turned back to Legolas.

"I am too large to fit through the crevice. Do you believe it is possible for you to do so, my friend?"

Legolas nodded and moved to the opening with the cloak held close to his body. Sam waited on the other side as the elf squeezed through the narrow opening. The elf ran to Frodo's side, Sam anxiously on his heels. Legolas carefully gathered the frozen hobbit in his arms. He recoiled slightly at the small body's lack of heat as he wrapped him tightly in the garment. His face was grim as he raced back towards the opening to the warm cave. He handed the hobbit off to Aragorn who hastily moved to the warmth of the fire.

"Gimli, could you build up the fire please?" He asked without looking up. He studied the pale countenance of the ringbearer. Frodo's lips were blue and Aragorn was afraid that they had been too late in their rescue. His hands trembled as he felt for a pulse on Frodo's neck. He exhaled slowly, not having been aware that he had been holding his breath. "He is alive, although his life-beat is very irregular and weak," he said quietly. He gathered the heated rocks, wrapping them within the warmed blankets and placed these around Frodo's body, then he covered the ringbearer in the remaining blankets.

"Sam the soup please," Aragorn said, looking up into the frightened, tear stained face of the devoted servant. Sam retrieved the small pot of the warm stew after checking the temperature to ensure that it was not too hot. He scurried back to Frodo's side. His Master's shoulders had been raised and his head was cradled within the crook of Aragorn's arm. All that could be seen of him was his face peeking from the cocoon of blankets. Sam could not stop a sob from escaping his lips as he looked at the deathlike visage of his Master. Merry and Pippin appeared at his side. Merry placed a sock covered hand on Sam's shoulder, his eyes never leaving his cousin, as he and Pippin gazed fearfully at the pallid form that lay so perfectly. Aragorn gently tapped the side of Frodo's face trying to rouse the hobbit. A small whimper, a first sign of life, escaped Frodo's lips.

"Gone. I failed them," Frodo said so quietly that Aragorn wasn't certain the hobbit had truly spoken. The ranger's brow creased then he slowly brought the warmed broth to Frodo's lips. He watched to see that his friend swallowed. The throat constricted then lethargically swallowed the liquid. He smiled, encouraged, and continued to painstakingly feed the fluid to Frodo. He watched as each time Frodo swallowed with less and less difficulty. Sam brought the medicinal tea to Aragorn after discreetly sweetening the cup with a pebble of the ginger. The healer smiled his thanks at the gardener and, once again, fed it to Frodo in slow, measured spoonfuls. When, a quarter of each cup had been imbibed and the liquid merely ran from the hobbit's mouth, Strider lay him down and moved the heated rocks closer to the frigid body.

"He is in a semiconscious state and seems to be responding. We need to keep him warm, of course, and feed him the broth and tea at regular intervals. I will take the first shifts and perhaps, then Gandalf, if that is all right, my friend?" he murmured as he looked over at the wizard.

"Of course, Aragorn," came the reply.

"Beggin' your pardon, sirs, but I'd like to take first shift," Sam said quietly. Gandalf turned and smiled down at the hobbit, thankful, once again, that the gardener had been caught eavesdropping at Frodo's window at what seemed like an age ago. Aragorn studied the worried face of the hobbit.

"Of course, Sam. I am sure Frodo would find comfort in you touch." Sam blushed. He moved to Frodo's side and slipped beneath the blankets trying to impart some small measure of body heat to his Master. Strider turned to Merry and Pippin "Could you gentlemen take the next shift after Sam?" Both nodded enthusiastically; glad to be of use in the care of their cousin.

Aragorn glanced once more at the ringbearer and the devoted friend and smiled knowing that Frodo was in good hands and that Sam would not rest this night, whether he was with Frodo or not. 'Better he do whatever he can to ease the way for Frodo's recovery than pace or fuss over the other members of the Fellowship as they take their turns in the care of the hobbit,' he mused.

The ranger dozed fitfully, jerking awake frequently only to peer worriedly over at Frodo. He awoke briefly at one point and watched as Sam gently coaxed the warmed broth and tea into his Master's mouth, whispering words of encouragement as he did so.

Unable to rest, Aragorn finally rose and began to build up the fire. He replaced the smooth rocks around Frodo's body that had gone cool. Frodo's color had begun to warm and he was gratified to see that the lips were pink rather than blue. He smoothed the still damp curls from the pale forehead as he marveled at the resilience of their companion and ringbearer. Frodo's eyes snapped suddenly open and peered unseeingly through Aragorn. Surprised, Aragorn drew back slightly. 'Frodo? Can you hear me, my friend?" He whispered fervently.

"They are all dead. The… Ring. It was… I did it," Frodo whispered. The hairs on the back of Aragorn's neck rose hearing these words. Frodo's face slackened and his eyes slowly closed. Aragorn tried to rouse Frodo further but the hobbit had slipped back into the realm of dreams. He pulled Boromir's cloak closer still about the hobbit's body and rose slowly. He stared down at the pallid face of his friend and pondered the meaning of Frodo's words. A feeling of dread passed through him. At last he turned, walking slowly towards the cave's opening to where Gandalf sat, his pipe, still smoldering within the hand on his knee, forgotten. The wizard's eyes were glazed over as he stared out into the blizzard that continued unabated. As Aragorn approached he heard the Istari whisper to himself, "It is as I suspected. Saruman.”

For the second time in as many minutes, the hair rose on the back of Aragorn's neck and a feeling of dread washed over him.

To be continued...

And now special thanks to my reviewers -

ShireElf - Yah, Sam was pretty angry but wasn't it great seeing him stand up for himself for a change? Glad you liked it, and please, come back soon!

CL_otr - Welcome, welcome, so nice to see someone new! I *don't* plan on it usually taking me so long to update...I managed to make it in allot less time than last time, but still need to work on my record some. It's a trial. I would much rather write, but everyday life i.e. work, kids, bills, etc keeps rearing their ugly heads and intruding. I will try harder. Thanks for sticking with me.

Heartofahobbit - As you can see, by now, it's not Sauron. Hope you're not disappointed. After reading your review I actually considered changing it, but there were just too many factors I'd have to adjust. At least we all know who the villain is now, right? Not to worry about Gandalf, he will be making allot more of his presence known in the coming chapters. I have trouble sometimes juggling all of the fellowship so I have to pretty much, limit who will be important and who will not. His time is coming, tho', I promise. Thanks so much for all your compliments and enjoying the fic so much.

Althea - Did you ever notice the *size* of the pack Sean Astin wore? It was humongous! The one Frodo had was so small and looked half empty on top of that. I picture opening Sam's pack and pulling out the kitchen sink, don't you? I too, thought the image of a very short Sam confronting the very tall ranger amusing and gutsy. Thanks for returning; sorry it took so very long.

Linriel - Another new reviewer! How delightful, you've made my day. Thank you so very much for your kind words and being 'devoted'. And my personal biggest pet peeve of all time is authors who don't finish a story. I figure, hey, why did you start it in the first place? I hate that. So you will never see that happen here...unless a meteor falls on my house, that is. You made me feel very good indeed to think that one of my chapters could brighten your day. Thank you so very much for such a wonderful review.

Kelllie - Hey what's with that 3rd 'L' I've been meaning to ask you anyway? It's cute and quirky like all of us here in hobbit mania land, I like it, really I do. Feel free to drop me a line anytime or as often as you like...here...livejournal or whatever. I am so pleased you are such a wonderful fan. I have to say the pun 'Phantastic' tale actually did make me chuckle and here I thought I'd heard all of them (I'm married, you see). Thanks again for enjoying the fic.

Tulip Proudfoot - I do apologize for the long time between updates, but RL was more than just a little crazy and wouldn't let me do what I really wanted to do, which is write. I am a great lover of angst as well as long as it's followed by a healthy dose of hurt/comfort. I remember watching the movie and thinking, as they were climbing the mountain, geez, I wouldn't go out there in my woolies, Gortex or whatever. Can you imagine having nothing but a thin little cloak? Hey they weren't even wearing *sweaters* under those things. And then, *then* after a long day of marching to have Gandalf say ' oh, sorry, no fire...spies you know.' Yeah right! Glad you liked it so much and I am working on trying to update a bit more speedily, unfortunately my other life has a way of getting in the way. Hang in there with me, ok?

Endymion2 - Hey, how's it going, my friend? Thanks so much for tuning in for a very, very long overdue chapter. Since I work in a hospital I see this situation all the time. A terminal patient who is long passed any hope that medicine can deliver receives a visit from a friend or grandchild or whatever. They feel so much better afterwards. It's the love, I think, that does the trick. It is one of the crucial ingredients that a pill will never have to cure what ails you. (Sorry, didn't mean to go all maudlin on ya, it's *really* not my style to be sappy, well...)Stay tuned, our hobbit is going to start making some headway in the healing direction, and thanks again, so much, for taking the time to read, enjoy and review.

Iorhael - Ugh is right! Have you ever seen a case of frostbite? It is uhhhgggllleee, trust me. Thanks for reading.