I don't own the Fellowship. They belong to JRR Tolkien and I'm just bending the tale a wee bit. This is a non-profit fanfic.

The tale is dedicated to Frodo-baggins-of-Bag-End, who gave me the prompt.

FIRE AND WATER

Chapter 1

They turned the boats for shore when Aragorn signalled that he had found a good landing spot. Sam looked back to see Frodo's head bowed on his chest. How he was staying upright he could not guess but it was obvious that his master was fast asleep. Sam looked over Frodo's shoulder at the tall ranger paddling in the back.

"He's asleep," he announced in as loud a whisper as he dared.

Aragorn nodded. "For several hours. I shall try not to wake him when we land. He will have little enough sleep soon," he replied grimly.

Sam turned forward again, somewhat sheepishly. He had been so wrapped up in his own discomfort at being trapped in these rather unstable vessels that he had not taken thought for Frodo. It seemed that the closer they came to their goal the wearier the Ringbearer became and Sam berated himself silently for not taking care of his master as he had promised. He also felt some guilt that Aragorn had apparently been paddling the boat all on his own for some time.

The shore drew closer quickly, although not soon enough for Sam, and Aragorn beached the boat gently before jumping out and drawing it further up onto the grassy bank. Frodo hardly stirred and as soon as he felt stable earth beneath the keel Sam stood and unrolled a blanket to wrap around him. Strider helped and then lifted the sleeping hobbit gently into his arms and carried him ashore, laying him out of the breeze in the lee of a large boulder. Sam moved to his side at once, adding more blankets.

As soon as Boromir beached their boat Merry and Pippin leapt out and started hurrying purposefully towards the trees, a large luncheon beginning to make certain demands upon their bodies. They jumped back as Legolas' arm shot across their path. He pointed to a patch of low growing ivy just in front of them.

"Try not to step in that. If you get any of the sap in an open cut it could make you very unwell."

Whilst both hobbits were pretty sure they had no cuts in their feet they decided upon caution and skirted the offending patch, before walking somewhat stiffly to a patch of low bushes.

Smiling, the elf took up his usual post as lookout, standing atop the rock that sheltered Frodo and making a methodical scan of the trees on this side of the river and those of the opposite shoreline. Having seen to his master Sam turned his attention to their supper.

"Can we have a fire, Mr Strider?"

Aragorn hid a smile as he turned. Even after all these weeks Sam still occasionally reverted to calling him Strider. Aragorn found that he did not mind. There was a comfortable friendliness in it that warmed him.

"Not in the dark, Sam. Perhaps tomorrow morning. A fire would be seen from too great a distance. We will have to make do with cold rations tonight."

Sam made no protest, although when Merry and Pippin returned the young Took wrinkled his nose at the cup of cold liquid he was offered. His face brightened considerably however, when he took a sip and found it to be some of the same cordial they had drunk at luncheon in Lothlorien. In fact Sam produced a large basket of fresh food which looked to be the leftovers from that meal and Boromir shot him a questioning look as he tucked into a slice of finely cooked venison. Sam blushed and went on the defensive.

"I saw they was clearin' it up so I asked if we could take it. They filled the basket. Seems daft to go onto trail rations when we don't have to."

Merry laughed quietly. "Sam Gamgee, you're a marvel."

Sam's blush deepened.

Pippin looked over to where his cousin lay oblivious, rolled in his blankets. "Shouldn't we wake Frodo?"

"No. Let him sleep. He has a long hard journey ahead of him," Aragorn replied.

Pippin's face fell. All the while they had been in Lorien he had been able to pretend that they were on a simple outing. Even on the river, the experience had been new enough to distract him from the purpose of their journey. But Aragorn's words brought the reason to the front of the little hobbit's mind and suddenly dinner did not seem so appetising.

Merry noticed his young cousin's expression and tried to lighten the mood.

"On your own head be it, Aragorn. Cousin Frodo is not going to be very happy when he finds out that he missed a meal." His comment was met with a chorus of soft laughter from his companions.

o0o

"Come on now, Mr Frodo. Sorry sir but it's time to wake up." Sam touched his master gently on the shoulder and Frodo stirred drowsily in his warm cocoon of blankets. Blue eyes opened slowly and he disentangled a hand to cover a large yawn.

"Have we landed?" Even as he asked Frodo realised that he was lying on his side in a grey pre dawn light. A little distance beyond Sam he could see Gimli setting a pot of water on a small fire. Merry's voice broke into his bleary confusion.

"We landed hours ago, cousin. You have slept the night away and missed an excellent supper, courtesy of Master Samwise Gamgee, supplier of high quality provender." He gave a mock bow in Sam's direction.

Frodo smiled and sat up, shrugging off an assortment of blankets. "Do you mean to tell me that I missed a meal? Sam. How could you?" He watched Sam's face closely, his smile widening into a grin when his friend's expression grew contrite.

"I'm sorry, Mr Frodo," he stammered, "But Mr Strider . . . er . . . Aragorn . . . said as how you needed your sleep. And you looked so peaceful, sir. I just didn't have the heart . . ." His voice trailed off and Frodo giggled, reaching out to drop a hand on his shoulder, his face growing serious.

"I'm only joking Sam. I shouldn't do that at your expense and I'm sorry. It was very kind of you to let me sleep and I must admit that I feel better for it." He smacked his lips. "Although I must confess that I am rather hungry now."

Aragorn's voice interrupted and Frodo glanced across to where the ranger was stowing their goods back in the boats.

"We have time for a warm drink but then we must be on our way. We can eat in the boats as we travel."

Sam grimaced. His stomach had felt rebellious enough having eaten before they set out yesterday. He was not at all sure what it would do if he tried to force food upon it whilst in the boat. But there was nothing for it. He was liability enough that they did not dare trust him with a paddle. He could not hold them up because of an over sensitive stomach too. Frodo's hand on his shoulder gave an understanding squeeze.

"Maybe you'll feel better today, Sam," he murmured. "Perhaps Aragorn will have something that will help in his supply of herbs."

"I'll be alright, Mr Frodo. Don't you worry none about me." Sam squared his shoulders and rose to help with the stowing, leaving his master to unravel himself from the rest of his blankets. Once disentangled, Frodo rolled his blankets tightly and helped with the loading, then accepted gratefully the cup of warm herb broth that Pippin offered.

He was so busy with the preparations that it was not until they were all ready to embark that his body made its needs felt. As he turned and walked off into the woods, to find a convenient spot Aragorn's voice followed him.

"Do not be too long, Frodo."

Frodo started to jog and then thought better of it, walking as quickly as his over stretched bladder would allow. Just out of sight of the shore he yelped at a sharp pain in the sole of his right foot. Dropping down on a nearby log he lifted his foot to investigate. The soles of hobbit feet are quite leathery but not impervious to hurt and Frodo found a large, needle-fine thorn in his heel. He snatched it out, relieved to find that it was so fine that it drew only a small bead of blood which he wiped it off and, limping for only a few steps, continued on his way.

Having taken care of the necessary business as quickly as he could and washed his hands in a nearby stream he ran back to the boats, the minor injury in his foot forgotten. He was mildly annoyed when some ground covering ivy entangled his feet just at the tree line, but he managed to break free quickly enough and jumped into the boat with a mumbled apology to Aragorn, as he settled himself and took up an oar.

The small boats pushed off into the broad river just as the upper rim of the sun's disk cleared the horizon.