Rating: PG or K+
Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine other than Dahlia Greenhill (OC). No money's being made, no copyright infringement is intended. The symptoms and treatments describe are all strictly for entertainment and should not be considered medical information or advice.

A/N: This is an AU. Frodo was adopted by Bilbo when he was twenty- one, but for the story, I made it just after his parents' death at age twelve.

It was about eleven o'clock at Bag End. The sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky, some songbirds were chirping and the smell of fresh cut grass lingered in the air. All in all, it was a beautiful day. Frodo Baggins didn't seem to notice, however. He merely collected the mail and hurried in doors. The warm, nutty smell of the freshly polished furniture greeted him in the hall and when he got to the brightly lit kitchen, he could smell some muffins baking in wood stove. He took no notice of these pleasant things, however. His only thought was going to his room.

"There's some mail for you, Uncle Bilbo," Frodo called, placing some letters on the kitchen table.

"Thank you, Frodo," said Bilbo. "Are you ready for elevensies?" He gestured towards the large table laid with hot bread, mushrooms, different types of spreads and juices.

Frodo hesitated, then asked "Uncle Bilbo, would you mind if I didn't have elevensies today?"

"Is everything alright, Frodo?" asked Bilbo, surprised. "Is there anything you'd rather have? You haven't been here very long, so I don't know much the kind of food you like."

"Everything looks delicious, really Uncle Bilbo," Frodo insisted. "It's just that it's so hot outside. I don't feel much like eating on days like this."

Bilbo was becoming concerned about Frodo. He hadn't eaten anything for second breakfast either. Come to think of it, had he even had his first breakfast that morning? He noticed too that his nephew had been unusually withdrawn for the last three days. Was it the stress of his parents' death a month ago? Frodo seemed to be coping fairly well, but Bilbo knew that children often grieve intermittently. Maybe this was one of his down times. Or maybe he was sick. He did have some high colouring in his face.

"Could you please excuse me, uncle? I'm really tired and if you don't mind, I'd like to go lay down." Having said that, Frodo disappeared into his room and shut the door without waiting for an answer.

Now Bilbo was really concerned. This was completely unlike Frodo. His instincts told him that he needed to have an immediate talk with the boy.

"Frodo, are you sure you're all right?" he asked as he knocked on the bedroom door. It was a meaningless question because he knew only too well that Frodo wasn't.

Getting no answer, he opened the door, to his surprise, he saw Frodo in bed shivering. His teeth were chattering loudly, even though he was covered with heavy blankets and his window was tightly closed. Greatly alarmed, Bilbo move closer and could see that Frodo was fully clothed under those blankets.

"Oh hello, Uncle Bilbo," he said, shifting uncomfortably and pulling the blankets almost up to his neck. Seeing his uncle's look, he added quickly, "Don't worry, I'm alright," but that didn't sound very convincing. "I just got a little too much sun today, as you see, and I have a bit of a headache."

"This isn't a sunburn, Frodo, you have a rash," Bilbo said, putting his hand on Frodo's forehead. "You have a fever, too. Does your throat hurt?" Frodo nodded, wondering how Bilbo knew.

"How long have you been feeling like this?" Bilbo continued.

"It started about three days ago," Frodo replied, clearly uneasy with this questioning, "but it got a little bit worse today." His eyes looked down at his bright red and blue quilt when he said that because it was a major understatement.

"Get undressed and stay in bed," Bilbo instructed him, handing him a warm nightshirt from the dresser. "I'll make you some Athelas tea which should help a bit."

Frodo knew there was no point in arguing with Bilbo. Bagginses were notoriously stubborn. Usually Frodo could give him a good run for his money, but he didn't have the strength or the desire to try that today. He just changed into the nightshirt as fast as he could so he could get back under the blankets.

"It's really nothing, uncle," Frodo protested, when Bilbo came back with his tea "I'll be up and around by tonight, won't I?" his voice rose slightly in pitch. "I just need to sleep that's all, isn't it?"

Bilbo, having a slight knowledge of medicine shook his head. "I don't think it's that simple, Frodo," he replied gravely, opening the window that overlooked the garden. "I think you're going to need some help. Hamfast," he called to his gardener.

"Yes, Mr. Bilbo," came a voice from the window.

"I'm afraid young Frodo came down with something. Could you watch over him until I get back with a healer?"

"Of course, Mr. Bilbo." said Hamfast Gamgee as he came over and looked through the window, seeming concerned.

"Thank you, that would be much appreciated." Bilbo told his gardener. Then he went over to Frodo's bed again and gently brushed some hair out of his eyes. "I won't be gone long, my boy," Bilbo told him. "I'll leave another cup of tea by your bed. Try to rest, and drink as much of it as you can. That might be a bit difficult, but I'm sure it will help."

To his relief, Frodo took a few sips of the tea. Swallowing it did seem to hurt his throat, but his shivering became less noticeable. The scent of Athelas was now drifting through the room and that seemed to relax him, too. Frodo took another sip and closed his eyes. He was asleep in a few minutes. Bilbo looked down at him for a minute, and then kissed his cheek lightly. After bringing in another cup of Athelas tea, he quickly went on his way, hoping Frodo's condition wasn't what he suspected.

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