Bearing the Unbearable Heat
Disclaimer: The characters and ideas in my story all belong to J R R Tolkien.
Summary: Frodo goes out for a walk on a hot day. But its a bit hotter than he originally thought and the heat has some consequences he wasn't expecting. Sam cares for Frodo.
It was a hot day, the kind that makes most people want to lie around inside a cool room wishing that there were more than a few inches of snow on the ground. But that was not the case at Bag End. Inside it was cool enough and a few short years ago Bilbo would have been in his office with a large jug of cold lemonade as he worked on his stories.
This particular morning had been the one that Frodo had decided to go out walking. After all, the day hadn't started off sweltering hot. It had slowly become like that, turning around quickly from the cooler morning.
Frodo had been too far away from home to make going back worthwhile when the worst of the heat hit. He'd continued along the path and finally collapsed at the pond his goal had been. After splashing his face with the water he'd regretted his decision to travel light. Water and a snack sounded awfully nice and the water in the pond was full of plants and dirty and didn't smell the best. There was no way he would drink it.
The walk back would have been challenging on a normal day. The distance was longer than he normally walked and in this blistering heat there was barely any shade and most of all paths were in total and direct sunlight. Several times he had to stop and sit in the shade, wiping sweat from his brow with the handkerchief he had the foresight to bring.
When he finally turned up the path to Bag End, Frodo wasn't sure if it was actually his home. After all, he'd been walking for so long, it seemed plausible that he'd passed right by and this was a mirage. But the smell of flowers and luncheon comforted him and even though walking up to the path and opening the door seemed to take all of his energy, the coolness of his hole under the hill was comforting and relaxing.
"Mister Frodo!" Sam's head emerged from the kitchen doorway. "I was starting to worry about you. Out for so long and in such heat. . ." He looked over his master, "You look absolutely drenched. I'll fill your washbasin and bring you a drink before I set out lunch."
Frodo nodded his thanks and made his way into his room. The thick walls of the hole kept it cool and the windows let in more light than heat. There was no need for candles in this environment. He peeled off his sweat-soaked clothes and wrapped up in a light cotton night robe before lying atop his neatly made bed.
He closed his eyes and allowed his skin to enjoy the cool air and the tense muscles in his legs to relax since he'd stopped walking and didn't plan on moving very much for the rest of the day. In fact, the more he laid there the more that seemed like something he could do all day.
There was a soft knock on the door. "Your things are in the bath room sir." And then the soft padding of feet on the hallways back towards the kitchen.
Frodo groaned and rolled off his bed and onto his feet. Standing up on his sore legs wasn't very pleasant, but the thought of a cool drink and water motivated him and he opened the door that connected his room to the bath.
The great copper tub was empty, but the smaller basin was filled with water and a jug of ice chunks sat next to it. Frodo added a few right away and rubbed another other his face and neck. Ice cold drips of water ran down his body, cooling him, but not enough.
There was a pitcher of something, he couldn't see in the dark bathroom, but it also had quite a few ice chucks in it. Frodo filled a glass and drained it quickly, drinking another two in quick succession. It was lemonade, sweet and crisp, with just the right amount of sour taste to it. Sam's lemonade had always been better than Bilbo's, but he still longed for a glass of the too sweet, syrup-like mixture that Bilbo always made.
He washed off quickly, using a damp flannel and splashing the cool water on his warm body. All too soon the water began to warm and he was clean, smelling of herbs floating in the water, rather than sweat. The problem was that he still burned with heat, it seemed to radiate from his skin.
Frodo walked back into his room and got dressed again. This time leaving off his jacket and rolling up his shirt sleeves. After all, he was staying home and there was no reason to be formal. Right now, cooling off was the most important thing, no matter what it required.
The rest of the house was cool, but not as cool as his bedchamber. Luncheon was lying out in the dining room, but it was close to the kitchen and Frodo could nearly see the heat emanating from it. And besides, with all the heat, he wasn't exactly hungry. More lemonade did sound good.
Sam brought one more dish out to the table, some kind of salad. He spotted Frodo sitting in the sitting room and headed to his master's side as soon as the salad was set down on the table. "Mister Frodo, luncheon is ready and I had another pitcher of lemonade. Is there anything else I can get you?"
Frodo shook his head. "I'll have a bit more lemonade, but I can get it myself."
Sam's brows creased for a moment, but he was use to Frodo's moods and eating habits. He nodded, but Frodo heard him murmuring under his breath as he headed back toward the kitchen. "It isn't natural, for a hobbit to eat so little."
The lemonade was good and it didn't take Frodo long to down another three glasses. After his third glass of the sweet drink he didn't feeling like eating anything, it was too hot, even lying against the cool walls with an ice chuck melting in his hand.
But he heard the door open and called out, "Sam, don't go out and work in the garden today. It's too hot. The plants can survive one day of this ghastly heat."
Sam entered the sitting room and looked for Frodo. Finally his eyes adjusted to the darkness and he saw the smaller hobbit sitting on the floor next to the wall. "Mister Frodo, why are you sitting in the dark? Are you reading in this light again? It'll wreck you eyes." He took a candle and lit it, transferring the flame to one of the torches in its wall bracket.
Frodo groaned as light hit his eyes. He opened them and looked up to see Sam with a candle standing above him. "Sam, the light. . . It's too hot."
Sam shook his head. "Are you feeling all right Mister Frodo? It was hot out there. Did you eat something?"
Frodo shook his head, biting his cheek as his head pounded for a moment. "Please Sam, just put the light out."
"Fine Frodo." Sam snuffed out the candle and knelt down. "But you're coming out into the light with me." He reached out and grasped hold of Frodo's arm to help him out. The heat coming from Frodo's body scared him slightly and he pulled him all the harder to get up and into a lightened room.
All Frodo heard was his name. And it was just his name. No "Mister" or "Sir." That worried him, for as much as he asked him to just call him Frodo, the gardener seemed devoted to his honorific and could hardly say anything without them.
Finally the pair reached the light-filled hallway and Sam saw his fears confirmed. Frodo's skin was bright red. Small blisters filled with a clear fluid had formed on his face and hands. "Oh, Mister Frodo. You should have come home when the heat hit."
Suddenly Frodo's eyes shot open. "It wasn't me. I swear!" There was a look of fright in his face as he stared at nothing. "I'm sorry! Please, get out!" He clapped his hands to other side of his head and fell to the floor, Sam's support failing to hold him up.
Sam gathered Frodo in his arms, once again worrying about how thin he was. It wasn't normal for a hobbit to be in such a state! He carried Frodo into his bedchamber and laid him on the bed before putting the doorstop in. He needed some light in the room to see what was going on.
"Mister Frodo, I'll be right back. I'll get you a cool drink." He hurried out of the room, returning as quickly as possible with a pitcher of water and a small pile of clean flannels. He wetted one and gently rested it on Frodo's forehead.
There were people yelling at him inside his head. That was the best way he could describe it. Frodo was positive it wasn't real. After all, he'd never seen these three women in his life. And he wasn't exactly sure where he was either. All he knew for sure was that it was hot and his head hurt and they wouldn't stop yelling at him!
"Stop! I promise, I'll do anything for you. Just be quiet please!" Frodo arched off the bed, hands clawing at his head, then flinching back when the touch hurt the blisters and burned skin on both his face and hands.
Sam took the cloth off of his forehead and wet it again. "How about a drink Mister Frodo? Some nice cool, clear water? It'll help cool you off."
Frodo could hear what Sam was saying, but through a haze. Almost as if he was down the hall and underwater. "Sam? Water?"
"Yes Mister Frodo." Sam slipped a hand underneath his master's head and brought the cup filled with water to his lips. "Hear, have a sip."
Frodo sipped and then spewed out the water. His dry, cracked lips couldn't bear the feeling and as it entered his mouth, he realised that having anything in his stomach was a bad idea. But it was already too late.
He had time to roll onto his side, the one away from Sam. But then there was no time. His breakfast came up, along with the cups and cups of lemonade he'd drank. Frodo groaned, the women were back again and now there were more of them. The yelling inside his head began again and he closed his eyes and rolled into a ball, trying to get away from it all.
Sam hurried to get a bowl underneath Frodo and managed to catch almost all of the vomit. Only it looked and smelled more like lemonade. He dumped the basin into the refuse container in the yard and hurried back to Frodo's side. He recognized this now. It wasn't just a bad sunburn. The vomiting, the lack of sweating. This was sun sickness and a very serious case of it. He'd gotten it as a young lad, helping his father in the garden without wearing a hat or taking any breaks to drink.
"Mister Frodo, please drink something." Sam sat on a chair next to Frodo's bed. As far as he could remember the only cure for sun sickness was rest and water. It was long and painful, but he couldn't remember anyone ever dying from it. But then, he'd never heard of anyone getting it as bad as Frodo.
Frodo turned away from Sam and his insistent words and prodding to drink more. And while the cool clothes felt nice upon his face, the pressure upon the blisters was excruciating and it was a constant conflict between the cool relief and burning pain. "Please Sam, no water."
Sam put down the glass. He wanted to get up and pace about nervously. He wouldn't though, he was worried about disturbing Frodo's already fitful rest. "Mister Frodo, I'm going to the kitchen." He murmured quietly before slipping out of the room and down the hall.
There was one cupboard full of various herbs and medicines to treat illness. But Frodo rarely sickened and there was a fine layer of dust over everything. Sam couldn't even remember if the cupboard had been opened since Bilbo left.
But everything was still carefully packaged and labelled. Once again, Sam was grateful for the education the Baggins had given him. He looked through the herbs, looking for something to encourage sleep and maybe a soothing salve for Frodo's skin.
Small packets of herbs to make tea with were stored in a box at the bottom of the cupboard. Sam pulled it out and set the kettle to heating up before looking for what he needed. Several of the packets promised sleep so he took the one that smelled the best.
Armed with a cup of tea, a fat jar of aloe salve, and a bowl of ice wrapped in flannels, Sam entered his master's bedchamber once again. His heart went out to Frodo once again.
"Come on Mister Frodo. Let's make you a bit more comfortable." Sam pulled back the covers and removed Frodo's clothes before tucking him under a single sheet. "That should help cool you off." He placed the ice chucks along Frodo's body, hoping that their icy temperature would help lower Frodo's.
The tea was still too hot, and even though Frodo looked absolutely parched, Sam knew it wasn't time to fight about drinking something yet. Even though putting the aloe slave on his burns would be easier once he was asleep.
He started out slow, putting the tiniest amount of the cool salve on to Frodo's hand. When Frodo didn't react, he put on a bit more. Soon both of Frodo's hands had a layer of green goo on them. Sam didn't dare smooth it into the skin, it was covered with the tiny blisters. Fixing up Frodo's face was a bit harder, but he fought with it and then cleaned his hands of the extra.
Sam looked into the cup of tea. The packet of herbs might have smelled the best, but the final product certainly didn't. The resulting tea was thick and sluggish. And it smelled obviously like herbs, not like Frodo's preferred tea.
"All right Mister Frodo. Here's a drink for you. It'll help you get some rest. There you go, another sip."
Sip by sip, Sam coxed the mixture down Frodo's throat until there was only three quarters of the liquid left in the glass. By then Frodo wasn't coherent enough to drink and Sam feared he'd choke his master if he continued to force him to drink anything, no matter how thick or thin it was.
Frodo's breathing eased and his hands relaxed from where he'd keep gripping the sheet. Sam placed a few more flannels full of ice on his body and after taking one last look at Frodo, hurried out to chill water for a bath. He remembered being dunked in an icy bath when he was ill with sun sickness. He only hoped it would work on Frodo.
When Frodo awoke he was alone in his bedchamber. For a moment he thought the women were going to come out of the walls and start their rant again, but they didn't. It was quiet, both inside his head and out. He took a deep breath, still feeling as if there was a fire alight inside his body. Only now it was a slightly smaller fire.
He squirmed about for a moment on his bed. His hair was wet and his skin damp but he wasn't sweating at all. Besides, the liquid on him didn't smell like sweat. After Frodo finished squirming he lay, breathing heavily. He was exhausted and in pain and any activity increased that pain.
After what seemed like hours to Frodo, Sam re-entered the room. He rushed instantly to his master's side, full of apologies for not being there when Frodo had awakened. Sam talked Frodo into half a cup of a water and sponged off his face carefully.
It wasn't until then that Frodo found his voice. "What's happening Sam?" He croaked, his throat painfully dry despite having had a drink moments earlier.
Sam patted his shoulder comfortingly. "It's the sun sickness Mister Frodo. You were outside too long and it was too hot. You've quite a nasty sunburn too."
Frodo squirmed for another minute. "I know, I can feel it. It feels very, very hot. Everything feels very hot. Is it hot in here to you Sam?" Frodo wanted to know.
Sam touched Frodo's forearm very gently. His hands were warm, he'd been in the kitchen, making another one of the tea packets. Yet Frodo thought Sam's hand was pleasantly cool and gave a quiet sigh of relief. It was just so hot; he didn't think it was possible to feel as if you were literally boiling and still be alive.
After another quarter cup of the sleeping tea, Frodo returned to his not-so-peaceful dreams and temporary relief from the overwhelming pain of heat stroke. His unburned skin was looking less pale now and instead an unhealthy red colour. But it was wet to the touch and Sam was relieved to feel the sweat.
He thought it was a good sign. At least, as far back as he could remember and out of his common sense, something told him sweating was good. Frodo did seem cooler. But even still, he replaced the ice chunks and packed around Frodo with icy cloths hoping it would do yet more good for his master.
Frodo awoke a few hours later in a horrible mood. He was blazing hot now and all the tiny blisters on his skin were red hot and itched horrible. Perspiration covered his skin and coated the inside of his sheets making everywhere they touched remarkably unpleasant feeling.
The house was quiet and he couldn't hear the comforting sounds of Sam moving in the hall or any of the rooms nearby. He felt very alone, more alone then he'd felt since Bilbo had left. Once again his heart went out to the old hobbit and he wished that Bilbo was there to comfort him and make him feel better. Something about the hobbit's very presence was soothing to his mind and body.
"Sam?" Frodo called out, his voice stronger than it had been all day. "Sam, are you here?" He was very uncomfortable and maybe, if he was in luck, there would be something Sam could do for him. Something to make his skin stop itching and burning.
There was the sound of hurried footsteps in the hall. The noise of cloth brushing against itself as someone walked quickly on the wooden floors of Bag End. The door to Frodo's bedroom opened and Sam came in, closing the door quietly behind him.
"Are you feeling better Mister Frodo?" He asked, putting down the pitches of ice and water he'd just filled. "I brought you some water to drink."
Frodo allowed Sam to prop him up on pillows and give him the glass of water with ice chunks in it. He sighed with relief when Sam put the ice around his body and laid a cool, slightly damp sheet underneath his dry one. It felt very nice on his burning skin and helped to clean off all his sweat.
"Sam, do you have anything for these blisters?" Frodo motioned to his forehead. He'd been feeling his skin and noticed that his hands and forehead were affected with the itching and burning blisters.
Sam opened the jar of aloe salve. "I already put this on your skin once Mister Frodo. It seemed to help a bit." He took a bit of the green goo and his fingers and Frodo offered his hand that wasn't holding the glass of water.
Frodo hissed in pain and pulled his hand back when Sam lightly dabbed at his skin with the aloe. "Not so rough!" He snapped, a bit more cruelly then he'd meant to. It had hurt an awful lot.
Sam waited a moment before trying again, this time not even touching Frodo's skin, just letting the bit of salve rub against him. It took a lot longer, but Frodo managed to get though it and after several minutes his hands and face were once again covered with the green goo.
"Thank you Sam. That does feel a bit better."
Sam nodded and capped the jar again. "Just go on back to sleep Mister Frodo. That'll help with the healing."
Frodo smiled his thanks for everything his gardener had done. He slipped down a bit on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to relax in the wet sheets and burning coming off of his skin.
The room was quiet again, disturbed only by the sound of Frodo's breathing. Sam stepped towards the door, trying hard to be silent, he didn't want to disturb his master. Before opening the door, he paused and looked back. Peace to you Mister Frodo, you're already looking much better. And he slipped out the door, ready to take care of himself for a change.