Chapter Two: The First Day and Second Night

Elrond looked down at the sleeping hobbits. The three of them had collapsed on the bed sometime after midnight, all insisting, despite their many yawns and their heads drooping in fatigue, that they didn’t want to go to sleep, that they wanted to continue to help. The Elf-lord had gently told them that they could help Frodo better if they were not ready to drop from exhaustion themselves. They looked like they were going to argue that, but then smallest had been overwhelmed by a huge yawn and so they decided not to. There ensued some brief but surprisedly animated discussion between two of them about sleeping arrangements. The one that he held the smallest carry the water told him that he shouldn’t be sleeping near Frodo because he kicked in his sleep and that one promised not to and begged to be allowed to sleep close by. Elrond was the latest to have those green eyes turned on him that only Sam was able to resist and fell to their power as well. The smallest had given a tired cheer, curled up close to Frodo, kissed his brow, assured him that he’d be all right, said goodnight, then took Frodo’s good hand and held it up to his cheek and promptly fell asleep. The other had lain down on Frodo’s other side, kissed him and the stout one had curled up at his feet. Elrond had continued to work throughout the night.

Gandalf came in early in the morning to find them still asleep. “So I see you’ve made the acquaintance of four more hobbits,” he said softly to Elrond.

“We haven’t been properly introduced yet,” the Elf lord said.

Gandalf smiled. “Well, then allow me the honor. The smallest one there is Pippin, an inquisitive Took if there ever was one. He can talk both your ears off if you let him. The one on Frodo’s other side is Merry Brandybuck, very practical. They are two of Frodo’s myriad cousins. I’m sure they would be happy to tell you in excruciating detail exactly which one, to what degree and what side of the family as hobbits are very fond of their family history and can recite it back and forth to the nth degree if they know nothing else, so I will spare telling you such myself. The stout one there at Frodo’s feet is Samwise, who is Frodo’s gardener.”

“They are all most loyal and protective of their kin,” Elrond remarked.

“Indeed. You would be well informed never to wonder out loud who is most loyal or loves Frodo the most or you’d be in the midst of an argument that could stretch until the world is re-made.”

The edges of Elrond’s mouth twitched. “I consider myself forewarned then. I have already seen the most tender love from all of them.”

Gandalf looked down at Frodo. “How is he?”

“The hold of the Enemy on him is very strong. If he hadn’t come when he did, I doubt I could have done anything to save him. But he did come and the power of IluvAdar is preserving him for the moment.”

“As He has this entire time. I wonder what His plans are for this special one.”

“The light of the One shines brightly in him, even now, brighter than I have seen in any mortal and that has made me wonder as well. It is undoubtedly what has saved him. But I did not think hobbits were aware of the One.”

“I don’t believe they are, not on any conscious level, but still they are very close to him. I don’t think even Frodo who knows all the Elvish stories and histories is aware that the One he has read about is his Creator also, but still he draws on that strength and love instinctively. He always has. His fea is aware, even if he isn’t.”

“Still the blade bit deep and the point is still buried within. I have not yet been able to find it, though I have searched this whole night. Elessar showed me the blade hilt and the carvings upon it are evil. I am amazed at the strength in this little one. None have ever withstood such a wound and lived. He may still not, or he may continue to surprise us.”

“I pray for the latter, though my heart fears. He has the look of Elven-kind as though Eru chose one of his First-born to be clad in a hobbit’s skin. It is hard to remember sometimes that he is still very much a hobbit and bound to die with the rest of mortal kind.”

“He is here now. There is still hope while he lives.”

“And if does not?”

“Then I will beg Adar to take him before...”

“....he becomes a wraith,” Gandalf finished with a heavy sigh, silently adding his own plea, for he and Elrond well knew death was not the fate of one so wounded.

The grim conversation was interrupted when the smallest of the hobbits stirred then. “Gandalf!” Pippin cried. “Finally! Where have you been all this time? Frodo’s been horribly wounded and it’s been just awful getting here. Merry and I nearly got eaten by a willow tree in the Old Forest, Black Riders have been after us the whole time and we got attacked by barrow-wights and Strider nearly starved us to death and Glorfindel nearly walked us off our feet! I’m sure things would have been much better if you had been along.”

Gandalf smiled and looked at Elrond for a moment, as though to say ‘See, what did I tell you?’. Only one who knew Elrond as well as Gandalf did could see the grave amusement in those deep eyes.

The wizard turned his attention back to Pippin. “I’m sorry, but I was unavoidably detained. Still with all your trials, you made it and you do not look the worse for wear for all that.”

“Humph,” the tween said, not at all convinced. “I’m sure I’ve lost enough weight to put myself back two summers and I don’t know if I’ll ever gain it all back. And I’ve been scared enough to never grow another inch. In fact, I’m still so frightened for Frodo, I may even begin to shrink.”

“I’m sure you’ll be fine, you fool of a Took. You have plenty to eat here and Frodo is in the hands of the greatest healer in Middle-earth.”

Pippin frowned, bitting his lip as he looked at his still, deathly pale cousin. “Does that mean that Frodo will be fine too?” he asked softly, fearing the answer.

“Time will tell, my inquisitive Took. Now do you want breakfast or are you going to talk until the moon rises and sets?”

Pippin thought about that for a minute. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

Gandalf’s eyes widened slightly. Pippin ignored that and looked up at the tall Elf-lord, craning his neck up as far as it could go. “I want to help more. What can I do and where is the privy?”

Elrond nodded to a door cut into the round wall.

Pippin scrambled off the bed, disappeared, returned very shortly afterwards, his hands and face still slightly wet. He shook Merry. “Wake up, you sluggard. Lord Elrond is going to give us our tasks to do today. I swear you would sleep through the crack of doom if I wasn’t here.”

Merry blinked slowly and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “It’s over there,” Pippin said in answer to the question in his cousin’s eyes and while he was using the facilities, Gandalf woke Sam who followed Merry, still a little sleepily. Then with faces washed and refreshed, they looked down at Frodo. Pippin and Merry kissed his brow and Sam greeted him with a cheerful voice, then sat by him and took his cold hand, chaffing it against his. They all looked up to Elrond for hope and assurance.

“How is he, sir?” Sam asked. “He’s still so awfully cold.”

The Elf looked into those pleading, sincere eyes and wished to reassure, but not to lie. “I have been working on him through the night, but he is still in danger. The point of the blade that wounded him is still within.”

“Is he going to die?”

“He is very strong-willed and he is fighting still. No one has ever lived so long, so there is hope he will continue and not be overwhelmed by the struggle before I can find the shard that remains. There is also the possibility his strength will fail. He is already greatly weakened.”

“It won’t fail,” Merry said. “Frodo is nothing if not stubborn. There were many times my parents wished he was more pliable, but he could dig his feet in, cross his arms, jut his chin out and nothing on the earth could move him when he got into that state. There was such fire in his eyes.”

“I think the wraiths were expecting that same pliability, Merry,” Gandalf said, “and got it just as much your parents did. I remember Bilbo telling me that Frodo was once a terror of Buckland.”

“And Hobbiton, when he saw something or someone who bothered him or others,” said a new voice behind him and they all turned to see Bilbo hobble in. “But then it was tempered by a caring heart, not a rebellious one. As it is now.”

The ancient hobbit leaned heavily on his walking stick as he came to his nephew’s side. He stroked a cold, pale cheek. “Oh, my dear, beautiful lad, how wonderful to see you and how terrible. I wish I could be in your place and take this all for you so you don’t feel a thing.”

He looked up at Elrond. “Tell me the truth, my old friend, how bad is it and what is it?”

The Elf-lord regarded Bilbo gravely. “He has been wounded by a Morgul blade and the shard remains within him. His fea has not surrendered and is fighting still. I don’t believe his hroa will fail until that does.”

Bilbo looked up at his friend and Elrond’s heart twisted to see what was in the little one’s eyes. “My lovely, loving lad should not have to suffer the torment of being one of them. I’d rather be one myself than to endure seeing him become one.”

“I pray that the One take him before that happens.”

“So do I, so do I. Best we ask for strength for his heart not to be overcome.”

“That is my prayer also.”

The other hobbits looked between the two and were frightened at their words. “Can we pray too?” Pippin asked. “How do you do that?”

“Just say what is in your heart,” Elrond said, touched once more by the hobbits he was coming to know. “You will be heard and the One who hears will answer you.”

“Truly? It’s that simple? Who is listening?”

“The One Who made you, Peregrin Took and all Tooks and Brandybucks and Bagginses and all the Shire and Men and Elves,” Gandalf told him. “The only One Who can heal Frodo.”

“All right then, Please make Frodo well again. Thank you,” Pippin said fervently and Merry and Sam added their own words. The youngest hobbit looked back up at Gandalf. “Do you think it worked? Should we say more or louder or anything?”

Gandalf smiled softly. “No, you did just fine, my lad.”

Pippin looked happy. “Well, that was easy. I would like to do it again, though, later, just to make sure. Would that be okay?”

“That’s fine. He’ll be glad to hear from any of you anytime.”

“Even if I ask again even later?”

“Even if you ask a hundred times a day.”

Pippin considered that a moment. “Well, I don’t think I would have to do that. After all, wouldn’t he get annoyed at me? My parents and sisters always get annoyed at me if I pester them too much, but then sometimes if I do, they give me what I want, just to quiet me up.”

Gandalf laughed quietly. He looked briefly at the other two hobbits and saw the same questions on their faces, though they didn’t speak them. “He won’t get annoyed, my dear hobbits. He loves you and loves Frodo more than you can possibly imagine. He will give you all what is best. You don’t even have to speak it out loud. Talk to Him in the silence of your hearts and He will hear you there as well.”

Quite put at peace with this, Gandalf watched them throughout the day, doing what Elrond instructed them to do to ease Frodo’s pain and their own anxiety and all along their lips moved silently in supplication. They ate in Frodo’s room and rested that night in the same positions as before. Bilbo dozed in a chair at times, then Elrond helped him to another bed for the night. The shard still hadn’t been found and Frodo had barely moved or made a sound, but still they knew he was with him and fighting. They hoped he could feel their gentle caresses and kisses and hear their soft words. They told him they were praying for him and Gandalf smiled at the pride in their voices as they said that.

So passed the first day and second night.