It may be several weeks before Chapter 10 is written and posted due to "real life" time constraints, but I'll update as soon as possible.

This chapter references “Force of Nature” chapter 3.

WHEN THE KING COMES BACK

Chapter Nine – Breakfast in Bed

And laugh they did, and eat, and drink, often and heartily, being fond of simple jests at all times, and of six meals a day (when they could get them).  ‘Prologue’, The Fellowship of the Ring

Sam stood with Halfred in the doorway, watching with relief as Aragorn gently brushed away Frodo’s tears, and Frodo started to smile.  He could never bear to see his friend sad or upset.

“Sam, are you well?” Aragorn asked, looking at him.

“Yes, sir.  When you told me to run, I ran,” Sam replied.  “It was awful, Mr. Estel.  Everythin’ exploded, and you and Mr. Frodo were...  I thought...”  He felt his brother gently squeeze his shoulder.

“I can imagine,” Aragorn said quietly.

“You saved Sam’s life,” Halfred said, his eyes shining.  “And Mr. Frodo’s, and everyone else’s.  We won’t ever forget it, sir.”

Aragorn shook his head in denial, but Halfred knew better.

“Come on, Sam,” Halfred said briskly.  “You need to eat.  Mr. Estel, can I leave Mr. Frodo with you?  We’ll bring both of you breakfast here, if that’s all right.  Neither of you should be up yet, if you don’t mind my sayin’.”

“Of course, Halfred.  And thank you.”

Just then, Scamp waddled into the room, her new toy in her mouth.  She got as far as the big bed and looked up at Aragorn and Frodo, whimpering.  Halfred and Sam moved forward at the same time, but it was Halfred who reached her first.  With a smile, he lifted her onto the bed, where she settled down contentedly.

Sam saw the soft look on his brother’s face as he patted the dog, and wondered for the hundredth time how they could convince their father to allow them to have one of the pups.

“She’s going to be completely spoiled,” Frodo sighed, stroking Scamp’s fur.  “She’ll want to be carried everywhere, now.”

“Just wait until the pups come,” Aragorn grinned.  “They will be the ones being spoiled.  Scamp will be a good and attentive mother, making sure they stay warm, fed, and out of mischief.”

“Or into it!” Frodo giggled.

Halfred excused himself, and escorted Sam out of the room and toward the kitchen.  Halfred, an intelligent, methodical young hobbit, was already dividing up the day in his mind, figuring out who would do what, when, and how.  His young brother needed his breakfast, as did Mr. Frodo and Mr. Estel.  There was a pregnant pup to be walked and fed, their own chores to be done, and Mr. Estel’s horse to tend.  Water for baths needed to be drawn, and clean linens seen to.  There were no gentry in all of Hobbiton more respectful and kind to him and his family than Mr. Bilbo and young Mr. Frodo, and whatever would help them through the next few days would be done... and done well.

*~*~*~*~*

Frodo reached up and touched the bandage around Aragorn’s brow.

“Are you badly hurt?” he asked anxiously.  “What is it you don’t remember?”

“Something about my past is clouded,” Aragorn said.  “As I lay here this morning, I began to get flashes of a few... There were images that seemed for a moment to...”  He sighed in frustration.  “My memory is returning, little one.  I just need more time.  But what about you?”  He gently touched Frodo’s forehead, examining the boy’s bruise.

“My head hurts,” Frodo admitted, “and my arm and chest.  But--”

“Your arm and chest?”  Aragorn frowned in concern.  He lay Frodo carefully beside him on the bed and unwrapped the blanket.

“My arm was cut by glass,” Frodo said, touching his left arm gingerly.  “Gilly sewed it up.”

Aragorn loosened the top of Frodo’s nightshirt, careful of his own hurt wrist.  With the small shoulder and upper arm bare, he looked gravely at the bandage.  He instinctively wished to examine the wound, but as long as the healer was returning, it could wait.

“Having a cut sutured is very painful.”

“It was,” Frodo admitted.  “I don’t remember much after that, though.  She gave me something to drink...”

“Yes, I believe Halbarad needed to give me the same potion,” Aragorn smiled.

“Sam thinks he left early this morning.”

“I should have been with him,” Aragorn murmured to himself.  “I am hoping Bilbo can tell me if Halbarad felt prepared for his journey.  And now... What of your chest?”  He lay a gentle hand on the front of Frodo’s nightshirt, but felt no bandages.

“It’s really sore, but Gilly said I’m just bruised.  I must have landed on some rocks, but I don’t remember anything after you grabbed me and started running.”

“Nor do I.  I am relieved beyond words that no one else was injured.”

“Thanks to you.”

“We were all very fortunate,” Aragorn said softly.

“Does your head hurt, too?”

“Yes, it does.”  Aragorn covered Frodo once again with the blanket, settled the boy gently against his chest, and sat back against the headboard.  “Each time I try very hard to remember...” He rubbed his head again.  “The pain grows worse.”

“Maybe you don’t want to remember whatever it is.”

Aragorn frowned, considering Frodo’s casual remark.  If he was indeed Elendil’s heir, guardian of the shards of Narsil and Chieftain of the northern Men of Westernesse... why would he not remember?  Why would he not want to remember?

“Who’s hungry?” came a voice from the doorway.  A smiling Bilbo entered the room, his hair awry and still in his dressing gown.  He came to the bed and gently touched Frodo’s forehead.  It still felt slightly warm.

“Bilbo, are you all right?” Frodo asked anxiously.  “I was worried; you never sleep this late.”

“Halbarad and I were up last night, talking,” Bilbo said.  “Frodo, have you been crying?”

“I’m all right now,” Frodo reassured him.

“Good.  I worry about you, too, my lad.  You gave us a bit of a scare.”  His eyes were dark with concern.  “Are you in less pain this morning?”

“I was,” Frodo said, “but it’s starting to get worse again.”

Bilbo nodded.  “Gilly left medicine for you, which we gave you during the night.  I think it may be time to give you more.”

“It makes me too dizzy and sleepy,” Frodo protested.  He didn’t want to sleep all day and miss anything.

“Frodo,” Aragorn said, “the medicine will help you rest, which your body needs very much.  And you also have a bit of fever because of your cut arm.  Remember when Halbarad broke his ankle, and he had that fever?”  Frodo nodded.  “That’s making you drowsy, as well.  Don’t be concerned if you’re very sleepy today, little one.  It’s nothing to worry about.”

“All right.”

Bilbo smiled gratefully at Aragorn, and went to mix a very mild dilution of the sedative Gilly had left.  When he brought the cup to Frodo, the boy dutifully drank it down.  While Aragorn held Frodo gently, Bilbo hummed a soft tune he knew Frodo loved, and the boy closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting.

“And how are you feeling, Estel?” Bilbo asked after awhile, smiling warmly at the Ranger.  “I’m sure your head still aches.  Do you mind if this young rascal spends a bit of time with you this morning?”

“There is nothing I would like better,” Aragorn said, “except perhaps to sample a bit of whatever is on that tray.”

Frodo opened his eyes to see that Bell Gamgee had set a large tray containing covered dishes and utensils on the table.  Delicious aromas permeated the room.

“Oh, Mrs. Gamgee is the most wonderful cook,” Frodo enthused.  “Good morning, Mrs. Gamgee.”

“Good morning, Master Frodo,” Bell smiled, setting down the dishes.  “It’s not every day that a young lad gets breakfast in bed, is it?”  She set into place across Frodo and Aragorn’s laps a second tray, supported on wooden legs, upon which she and Bilbo proceeded to set plates and utensils.  The plates were soon loaded with steaming portions of scrambled eggs, muffins, and sausage, and bowls of fresh fruit.  Scamp scootched a bit closer to the tray, waiting patiently for the tidbits she knew would be forthcoming.

Frodo was hungry, but found he didn’t really feel up to eating very much.

“Maybe later,” Frodo yawned.

“That’s all right, my lad,” Bilbo said reassuringly, stroking Frodo’s curls.  He shook his head as Frodo fed Scamp a bit of muffin.

“Frodo...”

“She’s eating for four now, Bilbo,” Frodo exclaimed.  “We can’t have her starving to death.”

Bilbo chuckled.  “Not very likely.  That dog eats more often than most hobbits I know.”

“And she’ll eat even more once the pups arrive,” Bell said knowingly.  “She’ll soon be feedin’ young ones of her own.”

“Estel, I take it your stomach is better today?” Bilbo grinned at Aragorn, who was finishing up the last of the eggs on his plate.

“Thankfully, yes,” Aragorn said.  “That was delicious, Mrs. Gamgee.”

“Thank you, sir,” Bell said shyly.  “Mr. Bilbo, those muffins are from Lily Cotton.  You’ll find a lot of baskets in the kitchen, sent by folks.  They’re awful grateful to Mr. Estel for what he did.”

Scamp looked up suddenly and began to thump her tail.  There was a soft knock on the bedroom door, and Gilly Brownlock peeked in.

“May I examine my patients?  Good morning, everyone.  Halfred let me in.”

“I’ll just get back to seein’ to things in the kitchen,” Bell smiled, gathering up the trays.

“Thank you, Bell,” Bilbo called after her.  “Good morning, Gilly.  Thank you so much for coming back today.”  He turned to Aragorn.  “Estel, while she’s examining Frodo, why don’t you have your bath?  Halfred heated water, and the bathing room is ready.”

“I would welcome a bath,” Aragorn said.  He waited while Gilly untied the bandages about his brow and wrist, and gently examined both injuries.

“You are healing quickly,” Gilly said, a bit surprised.  “Off with you, now, but take it slowly.  And don’t forget to wash your hair; if you need assistance, I can ask Halfred to--”

“I believe I can manage.”  Aragorn carefully lay Frodo back down on the bed, and got unsteadily to his feet, wavering a bit.  Frodo watched him anxiously; apparently, he wasn’t the only one who was dizzy.

“Bilbo...” Aragorn turned to look at the old hobbit before he left the room, his face serious.  “When I return, I would like to have a talk with you about Halbarad, and... other things.”

“I understand, Estel.  Indeed we will.”

Gilly sat on the bed.  “I’ll examine you here, if that’s all right, Frodo.  Or do you wish to return to your own room?”

Frodo yawned and closed his eyes again.  “I’d like to stay here, please.”

“I had to give him a bit more of the ‘medicine’ you left, Gilly,” Bilbo explained.

Gilly felt the sleepy boy’s forehead and pulse.

“Use it as needed, Bilbo, but not longer than a few more days.  After that, give him willowbark tea, if he’s still in enough pain to need anything.  This small fever, in addition to the head injury, will have him a bit groggy for a day or two in any event.”  She lay a small blanket across Frodo’s legs and waist, then gently pushed up his nightshirt.

“I’m glad he ate something before he sleeps again,” Gilly murmured, examining Frodo’s chest and abdomen, which were covered with multi-colored bruises.  “Nothing’s broken, Bilbo, and we would know by now if he had any internal injuries.  Has he complained of any injuries we don’t know about?”

“No.”  Bilbo heaved a sigh of relief.

“Excellent.  I’m going to leave you arnica for the bruising, and ice will help, also.  Estel may need that icepack back on his wrist for a time, especially if he overuses it today.  Now let’s see this arm...”  Gilly briefly removed the bandage around Frodo’s upper arm and inspected the stitches, then felt the skin around the cut.  “You can see that the skin is red, but it’s not hot or swollen, Bilbo.  This will heal just fine.”

“Thank you, Gilly.”

“After he wakes and has another meal, he should be bathed.  Get Halfred or Hamfast to help you; that cut needs to be kept dry.  Let him rest in bed today, and tomorrow as well.”  Gilly grinned.  “Knowing Frodo as I do, I suspect that soon your most difficult task will be keeping him in bed.”

“I agree,” Bilbo chuckled.

“I passed Hamfast coming down the Lane when I arrived,” Gilly told Bilbo.  “He’s on his way to the post office to see if there are any mail or messages for you.”  She smiled.  “The Gamgees take good care of you, Bilbo.”

“They certainly do,” Bilbo said fervently.

“There now, all finished,” Gilly said, covering the now-sleeping boy with a light blanket.  “Do you want him carried back to his own room?”

“Not just yet.  I’m sure Estel won’t mind if Frodo stays here for a bit.  He and I need to talk, and afterwards, I’ll take Frodo back to his room so Estel can have his room to himself.”

“After you and Estel have your talk, please have a decent breakfast, Bilbo,” Gilly urged.  “Or it’s closer to elevenses now, I think.  Halfred told me you only grabbed a piece of toast and some tea this morning.  Roam the garden, putter around, read a little.  Everything’s going to be fine – it will just take a bit of time for Frodo to heal completely.  Try to relax.”

Bilbo smiled.  “I’ll try.”

** TBC **