"Frodo! My boy speak to me!" Bilbo pleaded, sounding as upset as Frodo had felt less a minute ago. Slowly the small Hobbit turned his head to see what had he done to cause such a commotion. After his initial shock had worn off he was left too exhausted to think clearly, which was for the best because he would have felt awful had he fully comprehended what was happening.
"Uncle Bilbo? Are you still there?" he asked, praying that answer would be yes. Maybe Uncle Bilbo was already packing his bags to get him out as quickly as possible.
"Of course I'm here, lad," Bilbo told him as gently as possible. "I haven't left you and I'm not going to leave you."
"No?" Frodo looked relieved, although a bit surprised when he heard that. "You're not going to leave me?"
"Of course not, Frodo. I'm going to take care of you until you get well." Bilbo gave Frodo's hand a squeeze for emphases as he spoke.
"You're going to take care of me in Brandy Hall?" Frodo asked, his slightly disoriented mind trying to process this information.
"Brandy Hall?" Bilbo looked over at Dahlia in amazement. "You're not going to Brandy Hall or anywhere else until you recover, and then only if you want to." Where had Frodo gotten that idea? he wondered.
"But... I thought... " Frodo stammered, then he decided it didn't really matter what he thought, he wasn't going back to Brandy Hall any time soon. That was the important thing.
"What did you think, Frodo?" Dahlia prompted, realizing immediately that Frodo holding something back.
"Well..." Frodo again began to look uncomfortable. He didn't want to talk about it, worried about the answer he might get, but he quickly realized he didn't have much choice so he might as well get it over with. "When I heard Uncle Bilbo mention Brandy Hall, I thought he was going ask my aunt and uncle to come and take me back there."
"No Frodo, they're going to help me take care of you right here," Bilbo explained, feeling awful now. "And we can decide together what would be best for you after you get well." Frodo smiled when he heard that and began to relax again, to Bilbo's relief.
"They'll be plenty of time to talk about it when you're stronger," Dahlia reminded him, carefully monitoring Frodo's vital signs and visibly relieved when he finally seemed over his shock. He couldn't handle much more of that, especially with what was ahead for him. "Watch your feet, Bilbo, there's broken glass right behind you." Indeed there was. When Frodo grabbed the table, his tightly closed bottle of preventive tincture had fallen onto his bed and was thankfully undamaged, but the willow/poplar bottle had fallen to the floor and shattered. Now there was nothing to lower his temperature even slightly and relieving his pain was going to require something more risky. Dahlia glanced at the clock, wondering how long it would be before she had to resort to that.
Fortunately, the next few hours were fairly uneventful. Bilbo made a pot of stew which he and Dahlia ate next to Frodo's bed after clearing the small table. They encouraged Frodo to eat too, but he didn't want to. He only wanted to sleep, as best he could having to take his medicine every half hour.
"Is this all right, Dahlia?" Bilbo asked, with growing concern. "He hasn't eaten all day, didn't even have second breakfast which is unheard of for him."
"We can't force him to eat," Dahlia pointed out, "and with a high fever, it's normal to not have much of an appetite. It's essential, however that he drinks a lot. And another sponge bath would a good idea too."
Frodo reluctantly submitted to a sponge bath after the adults had finished eating. He really didn't want one but he knew if they wanted him to have one, it must be important. He noticed too, thatfelt a bit better when it was finished. Uncle Bilbo always knew what he needed, Frodo realized gratefully. Most of the time, he even knew what Frodo wanted and was able to keep him entertained with stories and songs about his adventures. Around two-thirty that morning however, Frodo's throat started to bother him again. He said nothing about it, but another half hour went by, and it became progressively worse. By three-thirty it had become too painful to ignore, especially when he had to swallow his medicine.
"May I have some more of the willow tincture?" Frodo asked politely, reluctant to complain just in case Bilbo got second thoughts about sending him back to Brandy Hall. He was especially concerned about that when his caregivers exchanged worried glanced at his request.
"Well... I'm afraid we're out," Dahlia told him, brightening the lamp to check his throat, "but don't worry, we have other things for you. Bilbo, do you have any ice in your storage rooms?" Bilbo nodded anxiously and quickly headed for the door. "Very good, but before you get it, would you mind bringing a warm warm cloth over here? It hurts when you swallow, does it?" Dahlia asked gently, turning her attention back to Frodo and checking the glands in his neck.
Frodo nodded. "I can't move my head well either," he added. As he spoke, Bilbo appeared by his bed with the cloth and a dish of warm water, to Frodo's relief.
"Your neck glands are swollen, but this should help," Dahlia assured him as she laid the cloth across his throat. "And when Bilbo brings the ice, that should make your throat feel better on the inside." It did at first, but when it was time for Frodo's next tincture dose he refused it.
"I can't take anymore," he said miserably. "I'm sorry, Miss Greenhill, but it hurts too much even with the wash cloth and the ice water."
"I'm sorry, Frodo, but you have to force yourself," she insisted. "I know it hurts, but you have to be brave, just for a second until it's down. Would it help if we mixed the tincture with something else?"
"No I'll try to take it by itself, but I don't know if I can." Frodo did manage to swallow it, but it was the hardest thing he had to do all evening and he knew there was no way he could make himself do it again. The two adults seemed to realize this too. He could hear them discussing it by his bed, but for once, he had no interest in following their conservation. All he wanted was for this to over. He wondered at that point if was he going to die after all and at the same time, he wished he could.
He felt a glimmer of hope, however when his caregivers had apparentally made a decision. Dahlia took a small cup from her healers' bag and began to prepare something Frodo hadn't seen before. She took a deep breath, and Frodo didn't know better, he would sworn he saw her hands shake slightly as she mixed the contents. Bilbo removed Frodo's pillow and placed some towels under his neck to prop it up a bit. Frodo felt himself becoming anxious at that moment, but he didn't know why. They had something good for him, no doubt but he couldn't figure out what it was.
Then he saw Dahlia bring the cup. "All right, Frodo, this should help," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "How does that feel?" she asked, rubbing the oils into his neck using downward strokes.
"Better," Frodo replied truthfully, "and I feel I could move my neck now." The oil had a heavy, unusually sweet smell but he found it rather pleasant and its healing properties took effect quickly.
"Very good. Could you take a drink of water now?" Dahlia asked, giving him his tincture when she was finished. Frodo nodded. Indeed, he would have welcomed a glass of water at that time.
"Excellent, I'll get you one with some ice in just a minute," Bilbo offered as he rearranged Frodo's pillow to make him more comfortable. Frodo smiled gratefully, and turned to look out the window at the stars. Bilbo went to get Frodo's ice water and Dahlia was putting her oils aways when the young Hobbit froze, as if panic strickened.
"No!" he gasped. His heart was visibly racing and his gaze was fixed on the window.
"Frodo what's happening to you?" Bilbo cried, grabbing Frodo's shoulders and almost ready to panic himself.
"Keep away!" Frodo shouted, his voice a mixture of fear and defiance.
"Frodo, what are you seeing?" Dahlia asked him. She spoke calmly and firmly, but instead of answering, Frodo lunged forward and screamed, frantically clutching his left shoulder.