The Guilt of a Guest

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The next few days were hectic ones for everyone at Bag End. Frodo was in constant pain; Sam and his Gaffer were trying to do several things at once; and Bilbo was generally anxious. This routine, if it could be called such, was broken by the arrival of an unexpected visitor--- Merry Brandybuck

Hearing Merry’s knock, Sam thrust open the door, "Master Meriadoc, Mr. Frodo’s right sick and the last thing he needs is visitors underfoot. Come get a rest and be off with you. How’d you get permission to walk here alone, anyway?"

He gave no time for an answer as he ushered in a stunned Merry and slammed the door behind them. Frodo was sick? Sam was not acting shy? It was all very strange, but poor Merry was left with his questions unanswered.

Slowly, he walked into Frodo’s room, where Bilbo had fallen asleep near his heir. Merry examined Frodo’s pitiful state in dismay. His older cousin was tossing back and forth fitfully in his sleep, sweat covering his thin, pale body..

Merry overheard a bit of a conversation coming from the kitchen. The voices were those of Sam and a healer---Robin Brandybuck? Why would she be here? ---discussing Frodo’s current condition. "I’m sorry Master Samwise, but there is little we can do for Brandywine Water Fever," she was saying apologetically.

Merry gasped, his breath catching in his throat. Frodo had Brandywine Water Fever! No wonder Robin was here; none of the Hobbiton healers would understand the devastating disease, and even the Buckland healers knew next to nothing.

At that moment, Bilbo awoke and caught sight of him standing there. Surprised, he sat up straight in his chair. "When did you arrive, young Meriadoc?" he asked quickly.

"Just a moment ago," Merry said, his eyes revealing his fear, " I can’t believe Frodo has Brandywine Water Fever. There is so little anyone can do about it!"

"Ahh, so you heard." Bilbo answered thoughtfully, his chin resting once again on his chest. " I was thinking along the same lines myself. Since I see Frodo is in good hands, I was considering going back to Rivendell to research the sickness, but I don’t know how much the Big People would know about it."

"We must do something!" Merry returned desperately. " It can’t hurt to check. You know the Gamgees; they’ll take care of Frodo. I can stay here and help, and Robin is one of the finest healers in Buckland, which is normally the only place anyone gets this."

"Yes, I suppose you’re right. Very well, I shall leave as soon as possible."

Bilbo rose and left the room, abandoning Merry to his own thoughts. Sighing, he seated himself in the seat Bilbo had just vacated. His errant mind led him down paths long forgotten to a time several years ago…

*~*~*~*

"Come on Frodo! You really must learn to swim. It will make you less likely to drown if you can cope with falling into water," pleaded Merry.

"Oh, I don’t know, Merry. My parents drowned in the water, maybe it’s not such a good idea to go near it."

"You can’t let fear rule you." Frodo’s younger cousin insisted forcefully. " I’m sure your parents had many good times on the river before they drowned. Besides, they didn’t have the lifeguards. They won’t let you drown, Frodo. You don’t even have to go in over your head. Swimming is not that hard, and it’s really enjoyable. Come on!" With that, Merry half-dragged a hesitant Frodo into the Brandywine.

*~*~*~*

Frodo had indeed learned to swim, and to swim well. They had had many memorable times in the river together, and Merry had never regretted his actions that day…until now.

Merry gazed sorrowfully over at his older cousin. His Baggins relative might not be in this predicament if it wasn’t for Merry. What had he been thinking? Even as a young lad, he had met dozens of hobbits that had once had Brandywine Water Fever. Some were paralyzed. Hobbits outside of Buckland dreaded the river. Even some Brandybucks feared it; but for the most part their love of the water outweighed the potential threat.

Merry fell to his knees beside the bed, buried his face in Frodo’s shoulder, and began to cry with bitter shame. This was entirely his fault.