Chapter 4: Frodo has a Fever

"Gandalf?"

The wizard came into the hallway as Bilbo's head poked out of Frodo's room. The old hobbit looked sweaty and flushed with exertion.

"I'm afraid I need your help. Frodo's a bit much for me at the moment."

Gandalf hurried into the room, where Frodo was lying in bed, tossing and murmuring.

"He won't let me touch him. It's the fever, you see–he doesn't know me from a dwarf, and I'm not as young as I once was. Help me get him into the bath." Bilbo looked terribly worried.

Gandalf bent down and picked up the squirming tween. Frodo cried out and flailed his arms, but Gandalf held him fast as Bilbo unbuttoned his small nightshirt and pulled it over his head.

"Hush, Frodo." Gandalf soothed. "A nice bath is just what you need to bring the fever down. You are all right."

With their combined efforts, Frodo was soon in the bathtub, splashing water everywhere.

"Settle down, my dear boy. You're quite safe." Bilbo soothed, stroking Frodo's wet hair as Gandalf soaped his back. Frodo relaxed suddenly. He didn't open his eyes, but he turned his face in the direction of Bilbo's voice, so Bilbo kept talking to him.

"There, now, that's better. Let me wash your hair, that's it. I'll use the nice-smelling soap Mrs. Gamgee sent up. Wasn't that thoughtful of her? When you're well enough, we'll ask her to tea. And little Sam too–he's been quite the help, hasn't he. There, now let Gandalf wash your feet. You like that, don't you."

Frodo curled his toes and gave a little giggle. Gandalf smiled, concentrating on rubbing the foot soap into the hair that covered the tops of the tween's feet. Hobbit feet, he knew, are both very tough and very sensitive. The leather-like soles make wearing shoes pretty much unnecessary, but only if they are properly looked after. Any hobbit who could afford it bought special foot soap to promote hair growth and keep the soles of their feet free from cracks and blisters.

At last Frodo was limp and sleepy, and when Gandalf wrapped him in a towel and lifted him, the wizard could feel that some of the fever heat had left his body.

"I think he will wake again soon, Bilbo." he said, sitting in the Man-sized rocking chair (Bilbo had had it specially made) so he could hold Frodo on his lap as he dried the little hobbit's hair. Frodo had gone from delirium to actual slumber, and his thin chest rose and fell steadily with healthy, strong breaths. Bilbo bent over his nephew, stroking his curls, slipping a spoon of medicine between his dry lips.

"Could you dress him and put him to bed, Gandalf? I'll make him some broth."

"Of course."

Relieved, Bilbo turned to go, but paused in the doorway. "Thank you, Gandalf." he said awkwardly. "I don't know what…well, that is to say…I'm very lucky you have come."

Gandalf smiled, and Bilbo hurried out of the room.

Bilbo was back with a bowlful of chicken broth when Frodo woke again.

"Uncle?" he whispered, a note of panic in his voice.

"Shh, shh, I'm here. What do you need, lad?" Bilbo stroked one fever-flushed cheek.

"I'm sorry I was being difficult earlier, Bilbo." Frodo whispered. "I just…I don't know…things didn't seem…"
"There is nothing to be sorry for. I understand. It was just the fever, dear boy–you couldn't help it."

"I'm sorry I can't stay awake." Frodo's head was already nodding, but he kept whispering apologies through his cracked lips. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to get sick…"

"Oh, my dear Frodo." Bilbo took the tween in his arms and stroked his damp hair, rocking him back and forth. "Don't apologize. I am only sorry that you are feeling ill. Besides, this is just what your family is here for. Your family and friends are in your life to help you when you get into trouble. I'm glad to be with you."

Frodo buried his face in his uncle's shoulder, and Bilbo felt a few tears soak into his shirt.

"Now let's get some nice broth into that stomach of yours, and then you can get some sleep, Frodo." he said softly.

The little hobbit was rather reluctant to eat, probably nervous that he would throw up again, but between Bilbo and Gandalf, he was soon coaxed into downing most of the broth. He was warm and sleepy when he had finished.

"There, now." Bilbo said, smoothing back his curls. "Good lad. That's better, isn't it, sunshine."

"Yes, thank you." Frodo murmured. "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to be sorry for." Bilbo reassured him. "Now, it's getting dark out. Can you get some sleep for me? I'll be right here if you need anything in the night."

At last Frodo began to snore softly. Gandalf smiled. He was beginning to discover that the tween was a very loud sleeper.

"It isn't right." Bilbo said softly and fiercely to Gandalf. "No child should apologize relentlessly for causing a family member a little inconvenience. He doesn't understand the concept of love. He is constantly afraid that I will stop caring for and about him because of something he says or does. He loves everyone, and very few people will love him back, the poor lad."

"He has you now." Gandalf said, trying to reassure his friend.

"Yes." Bilbo looked suddenly troubled. One hand slipped, for just a moment, into his waistcoat pocket. "Yes, he has me. At least for now."

A. N.

Very short chapter :) Let me know what y'all think! Love you, thanks for reading :) Also I'm still figuring out how to publish on this site, so if the formatting is off that's why. Feel free to give me tips on how to improve readability and stuff like that :)