CHAPTER 5

Sam had just left with the half empty tea tray.  Frodo had not really done it much justice.  At least the food trays were no longer accompanied by a dose of medicine.  Elrond had, however, left strict instructions regarding the amount of food he was to eat and the Ringbearer tried to imagine Elrond's expression of disgust as he surveyed the amount of food left on the tray.  Probably, much like the expression he had worn in the Council meeting, on the day after Frodo's awakening in Rivendell.  The hobbit found himself going through the events of that meeting in an ever repeating loop.

They had all been arguing about the ring and Elrond had sat back, watching the proceedings with a look of utter disgust.  Frodo suspected that the Lord of Imladris knew this would be their reaction.  Each race did not trust the other to destroy the one ring; fearing that one or other would use it to gain the upper hand in their inter species squabbling.  Elrond sat with his head resting on his hand; one elegant, be-ringed, finger laid along his lips.  Was he affected by Isildur's Bain?  Frodo could not tell.  He could not believe that the elf was not, in some way, but he did not show it then, nor had he since.    Even Gandalf had joined the conflict, although mainly to keep the protagonists in the verbal warring apart.  He had hinted to Frodo, before the hobbit left the Shire, that even a wizard could be tempted by the ring.  The Ringbearer wondered what it had whispered to him.  Perhaps it offered to help him heal all of hurts of Middle Earth.  Who could know the thoughts of a wizard?  Frodo, certainly, did not think himself worthy to fathom them, but could the ring?

Memories of the argument at the Council brought back echoes of the one in the library.  Gandalf had resisted all attempts to wheedle out of him what he had said to the rest of them, after Elrond had spirited Frodo away; but whatever it was, it had worked.  There was a truce between elf and dwarf.  It had been a little forced and uneasy at first, but the boundaries were set. Both were honourable and Frodo did not doubt that each would keep whatever promise it was that Gandalf had exacted from them.  From the way that Gandalf and Elrond kept throwing the two men, elf and dwarf together with Frodo and Sam the hobbit suspected that some or all of them were being considered for selection to travel with him.    

The relative peace of the truce had helped Frodo enormously and his attacks were becoming less frequent.  Elrond worked with him every day.  There were lessons in breath control and meditation, and he had taught Sam how to sooth his master with massages in various, sweet smelling, oils.  The healer had also insisted on Frodo ending each day with a long hot bath, laced once again with oils and a small table in the corner of the room now held a variety of delicate glass bottles.  Frodo listed some of the contents in his head; Lavender, Marjoram (even now its perfume drifted in the room from a little bowl suspended over a candle on the mantle piece), Sandalwood and Rose otto.  There had been lessons in how to confront, overcome and work with his fear.  He had learned that, sometimes, to simply accept that he was afraid of a situation was the first step to working through it.  It was whilst Elrond was showing Sam how to massage his master's back that Frodo had finally brought himself to think about his reasons for volunteering to bear the ring to Mordor. 

"Roll the towel, like this, Sam and then bend it into a curve."  Elrond lifted Frodo's head, turning it from the side, until his forehead and cheeks rested on the pad of the towel, leaving his face clear of the floor.  They had padded the floor beneath him with blankets and towels, on top of one of the thick floor rugs and, although his shirt had been removed, Frodo felt warm enough, as he lay near the fire.  "Are you comfortable, Master Frodo?"

"Quite, thank you, Lord Elrond.  Although I do feel a little silly, lying on the floor like this."  Elrond chuckled, a sound Frodo would never have expected to hear a few weeks before.  He had learned that much of the elf lord's sternness was only skin deep and as they worked together he had discovered a gentler, more sensitive side to the healer.  "To get the correct pressure for massage I have to kneel at your side.  The mattress on your bed is too soft for this.  We would end up in a most undignified tangle."  Frodo could not imagine Elrond being undignified in any situation but he kept the thought to himself.  Even minus his long over mantle and with the sleeves of his silk shirt rolled up to the elbows he exuded elegance, a fact of which he seemed totally unaware.  "Would you bring the lavender oil, please, Samwise?  I will show you how to do the most basic of back massages first.  If you master these techniques I will instruct you further."  Unable to see what was happening, Frodo listened to their conversation, as his body and mind succumbed to their ministrations.

"Pour a small amount of the oil into your palms and warm it by rubbing your palms together.  If you feel his skin becoming too dry add a little more."  Frodo flinched as he felt the elf's large hands come to rest either side of his spine at the small of his back.  Elrond's voice breathed soft in his ear.  "Relax, Frodo.  I am not going to hurt you."  Frodo didn't want to tell him that pain was not the problem.  He had not felt such an intimate touch since he had been a lot younger and he was not at all sure how his body was going to react.  "We will start with a simple stroking motion, Sam.  Place your hands either side of the back bone and slowly and firmly stroke up the back, across the shoulders, fan your hands over the tops of the arms, then bring them down the sides and return to the small of the back."  His hands followed his words.  It felt quite pleasant.  "You try it, Sam."  Smaller hands came to rest on Frodo's back and tentatively followed the same path.  "Very good, but use a little more pressure.  He's not made of glass.  Try again."  Elrond went on, demonstrating and then coaching the hobbit through kneading and pressure massage, until Frodo felt as though every bone and sinew in his back and neck had melted away.  Elrond finished by stroking flat hands down his patients back several times, and then he draped a towel over him and sat back.  "Lie still for a little while, Frodo.  Are you warm enough?"  "Mmmm" There was another soft chuckle.  "I will take that as a, "Yes"."