Chapter 10 One Returns
The journey back was a long one for both hobbits. Aragorn sat by their cots night after night. Frodo's hand had become badly infected and his fever-fueled nightmares broke through the enchanted sleep Aragorn had placed upon him. It hurt the Ranger to think Frodo had suffered so deeply that even his best efforts could not bring the hobbit respite. He sighed and gently placed another cool cloth on Frodo's burning brow. Tomorrow they would begin the journey to Ithilien. Perhaps the gentler clime would ease Frodo's pain.
Aragorn then turned to Sam. Sam had not moved or uttered a sound since Aragorn first treated him. In some ways, this was almost more disturbing than Frodo's cries and thrashings. Aragorn checked the dressings on Sam's wound and shook his head in dismay. The wound was festering still and showed little sign of healing. Sam's and Frodo's bodies had been so depleted by their ordeals they had little strength to fight against the poisons of Mordor. Aragorn turned as he heard another enter the tent. Gandalf moved quietly beside him, his own face creased with concern.
"Are they showing any improvement?" he asked staring down at the hobbits. He gently laid his hand on Frodo's matted curls pushing them aside.
Aragorn sighed again as he placed a wet cloth on Sam's head. "No," he replied grimly. "I had hoped by now we would see some sort of sign of recovery, but if anything, they are worse. I can feel despair in their hearts. Each is convinced the other is dead and I cannot seem to get the message through to them that their companion lives!" He closed his eyes wearily before continuing. "Frodo has suffered so much simply by carrying the Ring all this time. He grieves for its loss as well. I can tell he believes that accepting Death's embrace is his only hope for peace. He feels his job is done and there is nothing left for him in this world. If he knew Sam lived, I think he might fight harder to return."
Gandalf stood silently for a moment. "And Sam?"
Aragorn shook his head. "Sam has stopped fighting as well. He believes he failed his master and because of this, Frodo has perished. Again, if he only knew his master was alive, Sam would be fighting with every ounce of his strength to return." Slowly, Aragorn stood and turned to face the wizard. "So, instead, I must fight for them," he said, his eyes sunken deep into his face. He could not bear the thought of losing any of the hobbits, especially now that the quest had been completed. Pippin was recovering nicely and giving his attendants more than they had bargained for. Word from Minas Tirith reported that Merry was also doing well. Hobbits were uncommonly hardy folk, but their emotions ran deep. In some cases, this could be a blessing, but in this situation it was more of a curse. The despair that both Sam and Frodo felt was hindering their recovery. Aragorn sighed wearily. He would do his best to save them, but in the end, it was up to them.
The following day, Aragorn prepared the hobbits for their journey to Ithilien. He truly hoped that by putting distance between the hobbits and the tainted lands of Mordor he might aid in their recovery. Carefully, he wrapped Frodo and Sam in warm blankets and laid them gently into the well-cushioned wagon in which they would ride. A cover had been erected to protect them from the elements and prying eyes.
When he was satisfied that they were as comfortable as possible, he turned and entered a nearby tent. He looked around and smiled as he spied Pippin sitting up in bed finishing the last of an obviously substantial breakfast. "I see they are not starving you, Pippin," he grinned. Pippin's eyes lit up as he recognized the tall Ranger.
Swallowing loudly, he grinned back. "Well, I could do with a bit more tea and another bowl of porridge. He stared longingly at his empty bowl. "But the healer tells me no more until lunchtime." He sighed morosely. "Obviously, he's never heard of second breakfasts or elevenses either!"
Aragorn laughed. "But, I would think you would be pleased to be leaving here at last. I have sent word to have Merry brought to Ithilien to meet us."
"Merry!" cried Pippin, knocking his bowl to the floor with a crash. "Did you really? Will he be there when we arrive? When…ah!" Pippin winced in pain as he wrenched his injured ribs in his excitement.
"Careful!" cautioned Aragorn checking to see no permanent damage had been done. When he was satisfied he turned to his friend. "Well, Pippin, if you will allow me, I will carry you to the wagon where Frodo and Sam are sleeping. You can ride with them."
Pippin's face grew grave. "How are they, Strider?" he asked hesitantly. "Are they getting any better?" Pippin had seen them for the first time since their rescue just a few days before and he was dismayed at their condition. He deeply wished, not for the first time, that Merry was there with him.
Aragorn looked away for a moment then back at Pippin. "I am afraid they are no better but I hope the cleaner air of Ithilien will prove beneficial."
Tears glistened in Pippin's eyes as he nodded hopefully. Then, as gently as he could so as to spare Pippin any further discomfort, Aragorn lifted the hobbit into his arms and carried him to the wagon. Pippin gritted his teeth against the pain, but did not cry out. He sighed in relief as Aragorn set him down beside Frodo.
The departure for Ithilien was uneventful. Pippin chatted amiably with anyone within range and when no one was close by, the spoke to Frodo and Sam despite their lack of response. Aragorn smiled as he road nearby and heard Pippin describing his encounter with the Ents to his unconscious cousin. It was then an idea began to form. Aragorn thought back to the moment in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith when he was faced with trying to heal the reluctant Eowyn. Like Frodo and Sam, she had no desire to return to the land of the living and it was only through the strength of her brother Eomer's pleas that she had finally consented. Could Pippin possibly have the same affect on Frodo and Sam? Could he call them back or at least help them understand their friends still lived? Aragorn studied the young hobbit thoughtfully. It was certainly worth trying. He nodded to himself. Yes, as soon they were settled for the evening after the day's journey, he would attempt it. There wasn't much time left for Frodo and Sam for their strength was ebbing with each passing hour. If this didn't work, there was not much else he could do for them.
That evening, after camp was set up, Aragorn went to find Pippin. Knowing how hard it was for him to spend so much time with his unconscious friends, Aragorn had placed him in a tent with a couple of young Gondorians Pippin knew from his short stint as a Tower Guard. They too were recovering from wounds but were in good spirits and excellent company for Pippin's irrepressible spirit. When Aragorn arrived, the two young men were sound asleep but Pippin lay quietly in his cot almost as if waiting for the Ranger to arrive.
"Pippin," said Aragorn quietly as he knelt beside Pippin's cot. "I need your help."
Pippin blinked in surprise. "Anything!" he replied quickly. "What can I do?"
Aragorn sighed then went on. "My efforts to bring Frodo and Sam back to us have utterly failed. They do not respond to my calls. But, you are Frodo's kinsman and Sam's friend. You have known them all their lives. Maybe you can succeed where I have not. I want you to try and call them back." He paused a moment. "Pippin, I will not lie to you. I have little hope that they will recover unless this succeeds. When I moved them from the wagon, I could see that Frodo was even weaker than before and Sam's fever higher. They cannot withstand much more and I worry they may not even survive to reach Ithilien."
Pippin stared at him, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He looked away blinking rapidly then returned Aragorn's anguished gaze. "Then what are we waiting for?" he demanded as he pushed away his coverlet. "Take me to them!" Aragorn smiled as he reached down to lift Pippin. Although sorely injured from his encounter with the troll during the last battle, the hobbit was gaining strength rapidly and would soon be back on his own two feet.
It was a short walk to the tent where Frodo and Sam lay. Aragorn moved aside the tent flap and set Pippin carefully on a seat near Frodo's cot. Pippin took Frodo's hand in his and stared at his cousin's haggard face. He barely noticed as Aragorn took a bowl of steaming water and gently crushed two athelas leaves into it. The purifying fragrance quickly filled the small space and Pippin breathed deeply. Aragorn sat on the other side of Frodo and looked at Pippin. "I shall lift the enchanted sleep I have placed upon Frodo," he explained in a low voice, "Then I shall try to call him back. Be prepared to call him yourself. Try and let him know that Sam still lives and needs him. Do you understand, Pippin?" Pippin nodded tensely then watched as Aragorn gently placed his hand on Frodo's feverish brow.
For several long moments, it looked as if nothing was happening. Then slowly, Aragorn's face grew pale with fatigue. It seemed to Pippin that the Ranger was fighting some battle; his lips moving silently as he called to Frodo. Suddenly, Aragorn looked up. "Call him now, Pippin!" he commanded urgently.
"Frodo!" cried Pippin leaning forward, his grip on Frodo's hand tightening, "Frodo? Can you hear me? It's me – Pippin! Please come back to us, Frodo! Sam is alive but needs you! Please come back!" Over and over Pippin called to his cousin. Once or twice he glanced worriedly at Aragorn who still had his hand firmly pressed against Frodo's brow. Aragorn's breathing had become deeper and a bit ragged as if undergoing some great exertion. Suddenly, Frodo breathed deeply and let out a long, shuddering breath. Pippin started in surprise and Aragorn's eyes flew open as he peered into Frodo's face.
Frodo began to move fretfully and crying out as if in pain. Finally, after what seemed like hours to Pippin, Frodo's eyes fluttered opened. He stared out unseeing for a moment until he caught sight of Pippin. "Pippin?" he rasped, his voice rough with disuse and damage from the caustic fumes of Orodruin.
Pippin's face lit up in delighted relief. "Yes, Frodo!" he cried leaning in even closer. "It's me, Pippin! And Sam lies right beside you! He's alive, too, Frodo!"
Frodo closed his eyes and frowned as if he had trouble understanding the words. "Sam lives?" he whispered looking back at Pippin.
"Yes Frodo! Sam lives!"
Frodo stared at him for a moment longer, then sighed weakly, "Sam lives…" as his eyes closed and sleep overtook him once more.
"Frodo?" Pippin called anxiously, "Frodo?" He looked up at Aragorn in a panic. "Is he…?"
Aragorn smiled wearily. "You did it, Pippin. It was very difficult to bring him back enough for him to hear you, but hear you he did. He knows that Sam is alive now. I could feel the difference that news made. His spirit felt lighter somehow and his will grew stronger. I think he will fight now to survive, if only for Sam's sake." He turned at looked at Sam. Sam's breathing had become more and more labored and his body burned. Time was running out.
Aragorn moved Pippin closer to Sam and started the entire process over again. Repeatedly, Pippin called to Sam, his voice growing hoarse with desperation. But Sam did not respond. Sweat beaded upon Aragorn's forehead as he did his best to call Sam back but it useless. Sam simply would not respond and Pippin's cries went unheeded. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, Aragorn sat back. He rubbed his eyes and then looked into Pippin's anguished eyes. "It didn't work," the hobbit said softly, his voice catching.
"No, Pippin," replied Aragorn in frustration, "It did not." For several moments, the two sat silently listening to Sam's labored breathing. Aragorn thought hard. Who would Sam respond to? Frodo, obviously, but Frodo was in no condition to call to anyone. The only other hobbits were Pippin and Merry and although they were friends with Sam, they did not have the deep connection that Frodo had with the devoted gardener.
"Maybe…" began Pippin hesitantly then stopped, flushing.
"Yes, Pippin?" Aragorn said, encouraging the young hobbit to continue. He was open to any suggestion at this point.
"Well," said Pippin slowly, gnawing on his lower lip, "I once heard Sam say that Gandalf had ordered him to look out for Frodo. Sam took that responsibility very seriously, you know. Maybe if Gandalf tried calling him back…" He trailed off uncertainly.
Aragorn's face brightened. "Pippin," he cried, "That is a marvelous idea! You remain here with Frodo and Sam and I will go look for Gandalf." He stood up quickly, but paused to lay a hand on Sam's hot cheek. "Hold on just a little longer, Sam," he whispered and then was gone.
Author's Note: I apologize for the long delay in continuing this story! Life got in the way and to be honest, I didn't realize it had been so long since I had updated it. As always, thanks to all my readers and reviewers!