Dis & A/N: I own nuttin'. This is my first Lord of the Rings fic so be
merciful. I have no idea where anything is placed or some of the
character's personality's. I've only just seen the movie and had people
tell me basic facts about the books but so you don't like it then DON'T
BLOODY READ IT!!!!
A/N 2: If it sounds a little bit familiar in the beginning that's because there's another story like this called: And The Angels Were Silent but I started writing this before I found that out and this story has a twinst in it and also bit of an adventure so don't sue me Liz
- - - -
Any helpful hints would be greatly appreciated. It starts off crappy and ends . . . little bit better.
Remember don't like don't review.
All clarified?
Oh, WAIT! I have to say just one more tiny thing…
CHAPTERING IS CONFUSING!!!!
Iz.
- - - -
Destiny's End
Chapter 1: The Sickness of Frodo Baggins
Frodo Baggins sighed again in pain. October 6. He hated it. He despised it. He wished he'd never heard of it. But, as he thought about it, it only came once a year and a day for that matter.
Deciding a cup of tea was what he needed he got up off the comfy armchair and made his way to the kitchen. Thinking it was the easy part. Doing it was the trouble.
When he had made his journey to the kitchen and while making his tea his mind wondered where Sam was than he remembered that he had gone to visit Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took which was half an hour's ride from where Frodo lived.
Sam had hesitated saying that he should stay but Frodo had insisted that he go and have a good time, saying that he was fine and all would be well.
Now he wished for him to be back even if it was only for him to worry about Frodo's health.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over Frodo and he tried to sit down but lost his balance and fell backwards taking an empty tea pot with him. He landed hard and the pot smashed in his hand causing it to slice his right hand's palm. He watched as his blood seeped out of the wound and pooled around his wounded limb and dribble through his fingers like tiny red waterfalls.
A strange feeling came over him at that moment, a lightness all over his body and head. He realized that he was loosing consciousness and fast. His head and shoulder started to throb in time with his heart and the pounding soon became unbearable. Before he lost consciousness an obvious thought crossed his mind, I . . . I feel as if my head and shoulder are about to explode.
And then blackness took over.
~*~
At the same time, somewhere else, Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Samwise Gamgee better known as Pippin, Merry and Sam were at a little spring that was half covered by trees while the rest was showered by rich golden sunlight. It was hot, and they had decided to sit near the edge with their grubby feet dangling in the cool, clear water. Merry and Pippin were doing something or other but Sam just sat in the shallows letting the water lap coolly on his toes, lost in his own thoughts.
They were having the time of their lives wetting each other in a water contest well, Merry and Pippin were but Sam wasn't really thinking about them he didn't really want to come, he'd have preferred to stay with Frodo just for today. He was worried sick because it was October 6 and Frodo had looked quiet sickly. He had lied in saying that the garden needed tending too but Frodo had seen through the lie and insisted that he go and, Sam, not wanting to get that 'go or I'll make you go' look from him, went, but with a dark shadow over his heart that said this was a bad idea.
Merry and Pippin must have noticed their friends worried expression, so they both splashed Sam with water.
"What's the matter? You look like you've been given a problem you can't solve?" Pippin said.
"It's nothing . . . just . . . I'm worried about . . ." his voice trailed off. He looked at them and gave what he hoped was a happy smile but his eyes must have told a different story.
Merry's face fell and he said, sighing. "Go and see if he's all right than. I'm telling you he's perfectly fine. Take Kingston and come back."
Sam got up gratefully and mounted the black pony. He was just about to race off when he heard Pippin call.
"We might as well go with you, it's on the way home."
So they rode off, unaware of what awaited for them at Bag End.
~*~
"What could be taking him so long to open a door?" Pippin asked impatiently.
"Well, it wasn't as through he was expecting us, was he?" Sam said sarcastically.
"No. But do you think he'd mind?" Merry asked opening the door and walking in.
Sam rolled his eyes and followed him in with Pippin behind.
"I don't think he'd be too happy if we just barge in," Sam said.
"We're not barging," said Merry. "We're entering. We are friends and well known at that so he has no reason to get mad." He quickly turned to Pippin.
"Dose he?"
Pippin shock his head behind Sam's back.
Entering Bag End was like entering a forbidden part of the world. Silence. It was unsettling to hear . . . nothing, no movement, no sounds of life in the little hole.
It was as if no one lived there.
"Maybe he's out. Or taking a walk through the village. He's not exactly a 'homey person' anymore." Said Pippin.
"No, he'd tell me where he was going. He wouldn't just disappear." Said Sam. "Right, you two take the house and I'll take the garden, give us a shout if you find him." And with that Sam ran out of the house to search the garden leaving the two to discover where Frodo was.
~*~
Merry looked at Pippin.
"Well," he said, swinging his arms back and forward. "Shall we look for him?"
So the search for Frodo began. First they searched the bedrooms while calling out his name, when they had finally reached the kitchen where they noticed that a chair was missing.
"I think we've found him." Pippin said.
Rushing around the side of the table the found that the chair and fallen along with a pot. The chair was on the ground beside Frodo but the pot was smashed on the floor which was slowly turning crimson from the blood that came forme Frodo's palm.
"Frodo? Frodo? Can you hear me?" Pippin asked urgently.
"I don't think he can, Pip, he's unconscious." Merry said.
Merry put his hand on Frodo's forehead and looked up, worried. "He feels cold, it's like he's dead."
Just then they heard Sam coming in.
"I'll go an get him." Said Merry.
He rushed off leaving Pippin alone to try to tend to his friends needs and try to stop the bleeding hand.
Reaching over cautiously he pulled the right hand closer to him. Prying the hand open, he got a closer look at it. He saw, small, jagged, pieces in the cut. They were too small to get out with fingers alone so a smaller instrument was needed to pull them out like tweezers.
Placing the hand down gently, Pippin reached up his hand and placed it blindly on the table searching for a table napkin or any type of cloth which he found after a few seconds of searching, grabbing it, he placed it carefully on Frodo's hand trying not to harm it further.
" . . . when we found him in the kitchen. Pippin's seeing to him now."
Merry came in followed by a distraught looking Sam, who looked like he was about to have a nervous-break down.
Sam knelt down next to Frodo and checked his hand. Then put hut his own hand on his forehead.
"He has a fever. We need to get him to bed before he gets worse."
So the three carried Frodo to his spacious, comfy bed, then pulled the dense covers over him.
"What do we do now?" asked Merry sombrely.
"Wait, watch and see." Answered Sam not taking his eyes off Frodo.
"I'll go and make a cup of tea. I know where Frodo keeps a spare tea pot." Said Pippin getting up and leaving the two to see what they could do.
"Get two cloths one dry and the other cool along with a bowl of hot water." Called Sam to Pippin's retreating back.
"What's the hot water for?" asked Merry confused.
"To clean his hand up while I try to get all the stuff out of it." Sam stated.
"Ow." Merry said.
~*~
The bed was so warm and comfortable that Frodo didn't want to open his eyes but a nagging at the back of his mind told him he had too or something bad would happen. He tried but his body seemed to have no strength in it. He felt like a new born baby.
Suddenly he realized that he seemed weighted down by something that was on top of him. How odd? Then realization dawned on him that he was in bed. Was he really that sick? Or was he waking up from a deep sleep. He couldn't decide which conclusion sounded best so he thought he would wait and see what conclusion chose him.
Surprisingly he realised he could hear voices, from far off at first but then they started to get louder for him to hear them clearly.
"How is his hand?" asked a faraway voice
"Well, I haven't got all the pieces out of it cause I don't want him waking, so I'll wait till tomorrow, then I can get the rest out. Until then I'll keep it bandaged up. Shouldn't do him too much harm." It was so loud that Frodo knew, whoever it was, they were sitting right next to his bed. Then it hit him who it was.
Sam! It was Sam! He wanted to out a cry of joy for he wasn't alone but he's fevered body wouldn't allow him. The other voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger but Frodo knew he'd heard it somewhere before.
With that thought in mind and that a friend was beside him Frodo slipped back into unconscious while the voices continued to talk.
~*~
Pippin stretched and yawned. "It's nearly nine, Sam, you might as well go and get some sleep, he's not getting any worse. He hasn't got a fever anymore so I say he'll be better by tomorrow. I'll take over until ten then Merry will, then you."
"No. I'll be fine I don't need any sleep." Said Sam stubbornly.
"Don't lie. You look dead on your feet, go rest, even for five minutes." Pippin insisted.
Sam sighed and got up.
"He'll be fine. I promise."
"I'll be in the guestroom, okay?"
"Go."
"Goodnight." Said Sam heading to the guestroom reluctantly, thinking he wouldn't get much sleep that night.
~*~
Frodo had started to relax, leaning back into the soft pillow when, without warning, a wave of heat engulfed him. He gave a startled cry while it beard down on him like a heard of angary animals and no matter how much he tried he couldn't escape from it, he twisted, squirmed and yelled for help but to no avail.
He could feel the hot sweat coming off him and he tried desperately to throw the covers off only he was to weak and tired.
Whimpering, he gave up and let the fever burn him till a sweeping cold made him start to shake, but the odd thing was he still felt hot and sweaty.
He felt something cold being put on his brow and some urgent whispering which he didn't understand and care to try too, instead letting whoever it was deal with this problem instead of him.
~*~
Pippin was reading one of Frodo's books while Merry was snoring quietly, his head cradled in his arms that rested on the mattress. It started to rain lightly against the windows and thunder could be heard far off from where they were but it was clear that the storm wouldn't come where they were.
Then, without warning, Frodo cried out in what sounded like fear and surprise mixed in one. Pippin put the book down and walked over to Frodo's side.
Putting his hand on Frodo's forehead Pippin was startled to find that it was burning with heat and beads of sweat started to appear on his red, face. Frodo cried out again but this time in pain and he seemed desperate to throw off whatever was on him. Pippin, who was holding Frodo's left hand, was at a lost of what to do when Merry came to the rescue by grabbing a cloth and dousing it in the bowl of cold water next to the bed. He wrung it out and placed it on the fevered Hobbit's head.
The fever still raged and Frodo continued to whimper in pain. He then seemed to give up in fighting whatever it was he was fighting against and just layed still while whimpering.
"Do you think I should wake Sam?" Pippin whispered urgently.
"No, he seems to have settled down. Why worry and keep Sam up all night?"
"You're right." Pippin agreed.
"Besides I was thinking of not awaking him at all because all he'd do is take it upon himself to look after Frodo and leave us in the dark."
"You think it wise? To leave Sam out of this?"
"It's change over anyway." Merry said quickly, changing the subject. "I'll take over now."
~*~
An hour later Merry came and awoke Pippin saying that everything was fine, well as fine as you can get when you had a fever.
He accompanied Pippin to the bedroom where they found Frodo tossing and squirming slightly in his unconscious sleep.
Merry sat next to Frodo and took his cousin's cold, sweaty hand in both of his and rubbed his thumbs against the back of Frodo's left hand, wishing he could give him strength and make him well again. He got up but before he left Merry squeezed Frodo's hand and looked at him sadly, then he walked away to try the unattainable goal getting more sleep.
~*~
A suppressed cry woke Merry from his uneasy sleep and sent him racing into the bedroom where Pippin was trying to calm Frodo, who was thrashing weakly while holding his shoulder and crying out in pain.
Pippin was holding Frodo as he looked up at Merry. He shook his head in dismay.
"I . . . I do not know what is wrong! He was alright an hour ago then he started yelling and thrashing and . . . and what's the matter with him, Merry?"
"I don't know but I've never seen it this bad before . . . I'll go and wake Sam. He'll know what to do."
Merry rushed from the bedroom to the guest room where he found Sam asleep in a big leather armchair and hesitated to wake him. How would Sam take this? Watching his best friend cry out in pain and feel helpless. Shoving those thoughts aside he gently shook Sam awake.
"Wh . . . what?" he asked confused, looking around.
"It Frodo." Merry said simply. But it was enough to get Sam rushing from the room to Frodo's side.
Sam knelt next to him, he started smoothed the hair out of his friends face which had a tormented expression, it was unpleasant to look at.
"How long has he been like this?"
"On and off for about an hour but I think for the last fifteen minutes it's been hell on him." Said Merry.
Pippin, who was still cradling Frodo, looked at Sam and in a voice that told Sam he was afraid for Frodo's life said:
"He's awfully shaky and his skin is as cold as ice but he's drenched in sweat! It's not normal! Not at all! And he's crying out as if in pain, which I'm sure as anything he is, he's getting worse as the hour goes. Not better."
Sam racked his fingers through his hair and sighed defeated, he had no idea what to do and told Merry and Pippin such.
"We can't do anything for him, then." Said Merry solemnly. "There's nothing here that would help and it's at least six days ride to Rivendell."
They were all silent, a depressed, pessimistic silence.
"I wish Gandalf was here," said Pippin sadly.
"Well, we still have a few hours so me might get better." Merry said hopefully. "Right Pippin? Right?"
But Pippin wasn't listening. He seemed more interested in the floor, then, all of a sudden, a look of quiet panic came on his face.
"Look," he whispered. "Sunlight."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Just look." Said Merry, his eyes, which usually held endless mirth and mischief were replaced with cold dread.
Sam glanced out of the window and looked at Frodo, who was still shaking and sweating tremendously. Outside the storm had stopped and the first warm rays of sunlight could just be seen creeping over the hills east of The Shire.
"Sam something's severely wrong. He should be improving, not getting worse!" Merry said frantically.
Sam stood there for a few minutes, wondering what to do and how to do it. He was thinking this when there was a nock at the door.
He practically flew to the door, and upon opening it found Aragorn, king of Minas Tirith. Looking troubled and worried.
"Aragorn!" said Sam surprised. "What in the name of Heaven are you doing here?"
"I am here on a matter of great importance. I must see Frodo quickly for fear of what might happen may happen sooner."
Sam was just about to respond when Merry came running out and started speaking so fast that both Aragorn and Sam had to calm him down to make sense of his speech.
"Quick! He's bleeding! He's bleeding! Sam you've go to do something!" Merry said close to tears.
"What? Where?" Sam said.
"I don't know! He put his cut up hand to his shoulder and it came away all bloody."
The trio hurriedly walked back to Frodo's room where they found him gasping as if someone was depriving him of air. His breaths came in short bursts and exhaled in painful moans.
Aragorn walked to the bed, "Which hand is injured?"
"The right one." Pippin said, still cradling Frodo, who was still shaking.
Aragorn moved to the right side of the bed and took the wounded hand carefully slowly he unreaped it and looked at the palm.
"What happened?" he asked.
So the three launched into the retelling of how they had been enjoying a day of being careless and of how Sam was too worried to have any fun so they came here and found their friend unconscious in a pool of his own blood. How they had spent the whole night changing over to keep and eye on Frodo and now that his fever was reaching dangerous levels to which they all thought they were going to loose him.
Aragorn listened quietly until they finished. When they had he got up and tried to look at Frodo's shoulder which was hard because Frodo was clutching it tightly with his left hand. Pippin got off the bed for Aragorn and stood next to Merry. Gently Aragorn preyed to hand off the shoulder and gasped in horror.
"This isn't possible!" he breathed.
"What's not possible, Aragorn?" asked Pippin.
"It's the wound. It is bleeding as if it never were healed. Something is very wrong and I fear this is the cause of it all."
"What do we do?" Sam asked desperately.
"We take him to Rivendell, and fast."
~*~
Along the dirt road a little black pony called Kingston was galloping hard with two riders on his back. Following him very closely was Merry and Pippin who were on Brandy and Frost. Merry was on, Brandy, his brown high- spirited pony while Pippin was on, Frost, his white pony who was old but was used to galloping long distances.
Sam had never been a good rider so he got Kingston, who was used to more inexperienced riders but was a hell of a lot faster than Frost or Brandy but he was also easier to handle when he went fast.
Aragorn had gone on a few hours ahead to let Elrond and Gandalf know that they were coming and too be prepared.
"How's he doing?" Merry called to Sam.
"Not well, he's breathing's becoming more and more shallow, I don't know how much longer her can hold on for." Sam said he really sounded like he was crying.
It was the third day of riding and frankly Frodo wasn't doing too well to it, also he was mumbling nonsense in his feverish state which sounded quiet disturbing.
They pressed, on right into the night until daybreak. It sometime during the early hours of the fourth day when they were galloping through a forest along a river when Frost came down throwing Pippin two meters into the river. Luckily it's bottom was sand and the river was shallow so all Pippin had suffered was getting soaked, Frost, on the other hand, was on the ground coughing and trying to get his breath back.
"Frost! You okay!" Pippin cried crawling over to where the elderly horse lay gasping.
Pippin quickly looked him over and cried out in relief. No leg bones were broken, he was just exhausted and had collapsed.
"Pippin! Pippin! Are you alright?" Merry called.
"Yes, yes. Frost is just tired." Pippin yelled back.
Marry jumped off Brandy and came running toward Pippin and Frost.
"We need to get him up, you can stay behind and take your time when he is ready catch up as best as you can but be careful the next fall could both be your last."
Sam had pulled up Kingston and looked around at the two.
"Why have we stopped? We must keep going!"
"Sam, the ponies are exhausted. If they run any more we'll be riding ghosts." Pippin said, patting Frost.
"Are you saying that your pony's life is more important than Frodo's?" Sam asked furiously.
"No, I am not. I'm just saying that we'll kill them if we keep riding them like this! It's inhumane! And if we lose them, then how will we get Frodo to Rivendell." Merry said. "Let us stop for a few minutes. Let the ponies get their breath back, than we'll keep riding."
They rested for half an hour then started again Frost cantered instead of galloping, Sam was saying about how they had wasted time and every second was precious to them.
For the next day or so Frodo seemed to stable in his condition not getting any worse then he was but not getting any better either.
"Do you think it will pass?" Pippin asked Merry quietly seeing if his older cousin could ease his fears.
"I don't know Pip, let's see what happens first." Merry said, only adding to Pippin's doubts.
"My legs are getting sore," he complained carefully so Sam wouldn't hear him.
"Your legs are sore?" said Merry. "Think how Frostie's are doing."
"It's Frost not Frostie."
~*~
The vast blackness seemed to go on forever. Here there was no protection, no love, or light. Only cold reality. Frodo was lost. He knew that much and no one he knew could he see, people walked past him but took no notice of him.
"Help me, master!"
He quickly turned around, he could hear someone or something crying out for help but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see his friend either.
"Help me, master, before it's to late!"
"Where are you." Frodo called out.
"Right here." Said a cold voice.
"YOU!" cried Frodo.
~*~
"Are we there yet?" Pippin asked.
"Nearly, a few more hours." Sam called.
"Thank goodness." Pippin mumbled.
It was the sixth day and the four hobbits were getting closer to Rivendell by the minute. The ponies were sweating hard but they had somehow gathered more speed as if they were Elf-ponies instead.
An hour later Merry cried out in triumph. "Look it is the waterfall of Rivendell! We are here!"
The three Hobbits cheered and the ponies whinnied along with them for Brandy, Frost and Kingston knew it meant they could have a well earned rest.
They pressed on filled with a new hope. Then out ahead of them they saw a lone figure standing in the middle of the road waving his arm.
It was Legolas! But what was he doing here?
"If my ears and eyes do not deceive me I can hear three tired little ponies heading this way!" he called as a way of greeting.
"Legolas? What are you doing here?" Pippin said, pulling Frost right up next to him.
Legolas studied Sam and Frodo on Kingston and noticed how sickly he looked.
"That is not of any impotence right now, so Aragorn was telling the truth, he is sick then?"
"Yes." Said Sam. "Legolas your hose is faster than our ponies will you take him to Elrond?"
"I m sorry, but I can not." He said sadly. "My horse was shot down on my ride here, and is recovering from it. He is deeply spooked and will let no one not even me to tend to him."
"Then I will head on before it is to late." And Sam pushed Kingston in to a full gallop. Leaving Merry and Pippin with the elf.
"Aragorn wanted to meet you where Frodo was healed last!" Legolas called to the galloping Hobbit he then turned to the other two. "After everything has been done for Frodo Elrond wants to meet you and Sam in a meeting, I will see you there." And he ran into the forest.
"What do you think that was all about." Merry asked. Pippin shrugged and pushed Frost into a canter.
When they had caught up with Sam, they found him not heading toward the place where Aragorn had said to be. Instead they found him on the ground leaning over Frodo and a look of worry growing on his face.
"What has happened?" Merry asked urgently.
"I was near the entrance to Rivendell, when Frodo had gasped and almost stopped breathing I had to dismount and since I've layed him here his breathing has almost returned to normal."
The three hobbits looked at Frodo with growing worry and fear that he my not make it. If it was getting this bad than how would they get to where he could be healed? Would, no, could he hold on a few minutes longer?
Frodo face was pale but it felt as hot as boiling water and drenched in sweat, but his hands and feet were as cold as ice. He constantly shook as if he was outside on a winters day without his beloved green cloak.
As Sam was pushing back Frodo's hair from his sweaty face he began to stir.
"Sam?" he asked weakly. "Where am I? I do not know this place."
"You should," said Merry, smiling slightly. "It is Rivendell, home of Elrond."
"Wha . . .," he breathed hard trying to get breath. "What am I .. I doing here?"
"You're sick, Frodo. We've been trying to get you to Elrond. He will be able to heal you."
"I think you maybe too late for that . . ." Frodo's voice trailed off. His eyes became misted over and he closed his eyes then went limp in Sam's arms.
"No," Sam whispered. "No Frodo, not when we're so close to our goal!"
He began to weep and his shoulders shook with grief.
"Get ELROND!!" he yelled at Merry and Pippin, who started and then flew to where they hoped to find the Half-Elvan Healer.
~*~
Aragorn waited impatiently for the hobbits to make their entrance. He had sent Legolas to see if he could find them. He returned and said they were all looking exhausted and Frodo looked like death could take him at any minute.
This had worried Aragorn further so he mounted his horse and galloped down the road. A few minutes later he came across a running Merry and Pippin who looked upset and distress. He pulled his streed up next to them.
"Where is Sam and Frodo?" he asked.
Merry tried to steady his pony but Brandy was too exhited from the run. And while he did that he told Aragorn the facts.
"Legolas had just left us and we caugh up with Sam but he was on the ground holding Frodo, so we asked what had happened and he told us that Frodo had nearly stopped breathing. Then he came around and was confused because he didn't know where he was. Then his eyes isted over and he went limp. And we went to search for Elrond."
Without a word Aragorn threw his horse into a hard gallop, he had to get there before it was too late, otherwise all would be lost.
A/N 3: When I read this chapter to my sister she looked at me and burst into tears saying: "He only wanted a cup of tea!" She's 8 so what do you expect?
Don't know when next chapter will be up, don't care either. So just wait and see.
A/N 2: If it sounds a little bit familiar in the beginning that's because there's another story like this called: And The Angels Were Silent but I started writing this before I found that out and this story has a twinst in it and also bit of an adventure so don't sue me Liz
- - - -
Any helpful hints would be greatly appreciated. It starts off crappy and ends . . . little bit better.
Remember don't like don't review.
All clarified?
Oh, WAIT! I have to say just one more tiny thing…
CHAPTERING IS CONFUSING!!!!
Iz.
- - - -
Destiny's End
Chapter 1: The Sickness of Frodo Baggins
Frodo Baggins sighed again in pain. October 6. He hated it. He despised it. He wished he'd never heard of it. But, as he thought about it, it only came once a year and a day for that matter.
Deciding a cup of tea was what he needed he got up off the comfy armchair and made his way to the kitchen. Thinking it was the easy part. Doing it was the trouble.
When he had made his journey to the kitchen and while making his tea his mind wondered where Sam was than he remembered that he had gone to visit Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took which was half an hour's ride from where Frodo lived.
Sam had hesitated saying that he should stay but Frodo had insisted that he go and have a good time, saying that he was fine and all would be well.
Now he wished for him to be back even if it was only for him to worry about Frodo's health.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea swept over Frodo and he tried to sit down but lost his balance and fell backwards taking an empty tea pot with him. He landed hard and the pot smashed in his hand causing it to slice his right hand's palm. He watched as his blood seeped out of the wound and pooled around his wounded limb and dribble through his fingers like tiny red waterfalls.
A strange feeling came over him at that moment, a lightness all over his body and head. He realized that he was loosing consciousness and fast. His head and shoulder started to throb in time with his heart and the pounding soon became unbearable. Before he lost consciousness an obvious thought crossed his mind, I . . . I feel as if my head and shoulder are about to explode.
And then blackness took over.
~*~
At the same time, somewhere else, Peregrin Took, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Samwise Gamgee better known as Pippin, Merry and Sam were at a little spring that was half covered by trees while the rest was showered by rich golden sunlight. It was hot, and they had decided to sit near the edge with their grubby feet dangling in the cool, clear water. Merry and Pippin were doing something or other but Sam just sat in the shallows letting the water lap coolly on his toes, lost in his own thoughts.
They were having the time of their lives wetting each other in a water contest well, Merry and Pippin were but Sam wasn't really thinking about them he didn't really want to come, he'd have preferred to stay with Frodo just for today. He was worried sick because it was October 6 and Frodo had looked quiet sickly. He had lied in saying that the garden needed tending too but Frodo had seen through the lie and insisted that he go and, Sam, not wanting to get that 'go or I'll make you go' look from him, went, but with a dark shadow over his heart that said this was a bad idea.
Merry and Pippin must have noticed their friends worried expression, so they both splashed Sam with water.
"What's the matter? You look like you've been given a problem you can't solve?" Pippin said.
"It's nothing . . . just . . . I'm worried about . . ." his voice trailed off. He looked at them and gave what he hoped was a happy smile but his eyes must have told a different story.
Merry's face fell and he said, sighing. "Go and see if he's all right than. I'm telling you he's perfectly fine. Take Kingston and come back."
Sam got up gratefully and mounted the black pony. He was just about to race off when he heard Pippin call.
"We might as well go with you, it's on the way home."
So they rode off, unaware of what awaited for them at Bag End.
~*~
"What could be taking him so long to open a door?" Pippin asked impatiently.
"Well, it wasn't as through he was expecting us, was he?" Sam said sarcastically.
"No. But do you think he'd mind?" Merry asked opening the door and walking in.
Sam rolled his eyes and followed him in with Pippin behind.
"I don't think he'd be too happy if we just barge in," Sam said.
"We're not barging," said Merry. "We're entering. We are friends and well known at that so he has no reason to get mad." He quickly turned to Pippin.
"Dose he?"
Pippin shock his head behind Sam's back.
Entering Bag End was like entering a forbidden part of the world. Silence. It was unsettling to hear . . . nothing, no movement, no sounds of life in the little hole.
It was as if no one lived there.
"Maybe he's out. Or taking a walk through the village. He's not exactly a 'homey person' anymore." Said Pippin.
"No, he'd tell me where he was going. He wouldn't just disappear." Said Sam. "Right, you two take the house and I'll take the garden, give us a shout if you find him." And with that Sam ran out of the house to search the garden leaving the two to discover where Frodo was.
~*~
Merry looked at Pippin.
"Well," he said, swinging his arms back and forward. "Shall we look for him?"
So the search for Frodo began. First they searched the bedrooms while calling out his name, when they had finally reached the kitchen where they noticed that a chair was missing.
"I think we've found him." Pippin said.
Rushing around the side of the table the found that the chair and fallen along with a pot. The chair was on the ground beside Frodo but the pot was smashed on the floor which was slowly turning crimson from the blood that came forme Frodo's palm.
"Frodo? Frodo? Can you hear me?" Pippin asked urgently.
"I don't think he can, Pip, he's unconscious." Merry said.
Merry put his hand on Frodo's forehead and looked up, worried. "He feels cold, it's like he's dead."
Just then they heard Sam coming in.
"I'll go an get him." Said Merry.
He rushed off leaving Pippin alone to try to tend to his friends needs and try to stop the bleeding hand.
Reaching over cautiously he pulled the right hand closer to him. Prying the hand open, he got a closer look at it. He saw, small, jagged, pieces in the cut. They were too small to get out with fingers alone so a smaller instrument was needed to pull them out like tweezers.
Placing the hand down gently, Pippin reached up his hand and placed it blindly on the table searching for a table napkin or any type of cloth which he found after a few seconds of searching, grabbing it, he placed it carefully on Frodo's hand trying not to harm it further.
" . . . when we found him in the kitchen. Pippin's seeing to him now."
Merry came in followed by a distraught looking Sam, who looked like he was about to have a nervous-break down.
Sam knelt down next to Frodo and checked his hand. Then put hut his own hand on his forehead.
"He has a fever. We need to get him to bed before he gets worse."
So the three carried Frodo to his spacious, comfy bed, then pulled the dense covers over him.
"What do we do now?" asked Merry sombrely.
"Wait, watch and see." Answered Sam not taking his eyes off Frodo.
"I'll go and make a cup of tea. I know where Frodo keeps a spare tea pot." Said Pippin getting up and leaving the two to see what they could do.
"Get two cloths one dry and the other cool along with a bowl of hot water." Called Sam to Pippin's retreating back.
"What's the hot water for?" asked Merry confused.
"To clean his hand up while I try to get all the stuff out of it." Sam stated.
"Ow." Merry said.
~*~
The bed was so warm and comfortable that Frodo didn't want to open his eyes but a nagging at the back of his mind told him he had too or something bad would happen. He tried but his body seemed to have no strength in it. He felt like a new born baby.
Suddenly he realized that he seemed weighted down by something that was on top of him. How odd? Then realization dawned on him that he was in bed. Was he really that sick? Or was he waking up from a deep sleep. He couldn't decide which conclusion sounded best so he thought he would wait and see what conclusion chose him.
Surprisingly he realised he could hear voices, from far off at first but then they started to get louder for him to hear them clearly.
"How is his hand?" asked a faraway voice
"Well, I haven't got all the pieces out of it cause I don't want him waking, so I'll wait till tomorrow, then I can get the rest out. Until then I'll keep it bandaged up. Shouldn't do him too much harm." It was so loud that Frodo knew, whoever it was, they were sitting right next to his bed. Then it hit him who it was.
Sam! It was Sam! He wanted to out a cry of joy for he wasn't alone but he's fevered body wouldn't allow him. The other voice sounded like it belonged to a stranger but Frodo knew he'd heard it somewhere before.
With that thought in mind and that a friend was beside him Frodo slipped back into unconscious while the voices continued to talk.
~*~
Pippin stretched and yawned. "It's nearly nine, Sam, you might as well go and get some sleep, he's not getting any worse. He hasn't got a fever anymore so I say he'll be better by tomorrow. I'll take over until ten then Merry will, then you."
"No. I'll be fine I don't need any sleep." Said Sam stubbornly.
"Don't lie. You look dead on your feet, go rest, even for five minutes." Pippin insisted.
Sam sighed and got up.
"He'll be fine. I promise."
"I'll be in the guestroom, okay?"
"Go."
"Goodnight." Said Sam heading to the guestroom reluctantly, thinking he wouldn't get much sleep that night.
~*~
Frodo had started to relax, leaning back into the soft pillow when, without warning, a wave of heat engulfed him. He gave a startled cry while it beard down on him like a heard of angary animals and no matter how much he tried he couldn't escape from it, he twisted, squirmed and yelled for help but to no avail.
He could feel the hot sweat coming off him and he tried desperately to throw the covers off only he was to weak and tired.
Whimpering, he gave up and let the fever burn him till a sweeping cold made him start to shake, but the odd thing was he still felt hot and sweaty.
He felt something cold being put on his brow and some urgent whispering which he didn't understand and care to try too, instead letting whoever it was deal with this problem instead of him.
~*~
Pippin was reading one of Frodo's books while Merry was snoring quietly, his head cradled in his arms that rested on the mattress. It started to rain lightly against the windows and thunder could be heard far off from where they were but it was clear that the storm wouldn't come where they were.
Then, without warning, Frodo cried out in what sounded like fear and surprise mixed in one. Pippin put the book down and walked over to Frodo's side.
Putting his hand on Frodo's forehead Pippin was startled to find that it was burning with heat and beads of sweat started to appear on his red, face. Frodo cried out again but this time in pain and he seemed desperate to throw off whatever was on him. Pippin, who was holding Frodo's left hand, was at a lost of what to do when Merry came to the rescue by grabbing a cloth and dousing it in the bowl of cold water next to the bed. He wrung it out and placed it on the fevered Hobbit's head.
The fever still raged and Frodo continued to whimper in pain. He then seemed to give up in fighting whatever it was he was fighting against and just layed still while whimpering.
"Do you think I should wake Sam?" Pippin whispered urgently.
"No, he seems to have settled down. Why worry and keep Sam up all night?"
"You're right." Pippin agreed.
"Besides I was thinking of not awaking him at all because all he'd do is take it upon himself to look after Frodo and leave us in the dark."
"You think it wise? To leave Sam out of this?"
"It's change over anyway." Merry said quickly, changing the subject. "I'll take over now."
~*~
An hour later Merry came and awoke Pippin saying that everything was fine, well as fine as you can get when you had a fever.
He accompanied Pippin to the bedroom where they found Frodo tossing and squirming slightly in his unconscious sleep.
Merry sat next to Frodo and took his cousin's cold, sweaty hand in both of his and rubbed his thumbs against the back of Frodo's left hand, wishing he could give him strength and make him well again. He got up but before he left Merry squeezed Frodo's hand and looked at him sadly, then he walked away to try the unattainable goal getting more sleep.
~*~
A suppressed cry woke Merry from his uneasy sleep and sent him racing into the bedroom where Pippin was trying to calm Frodo, who was thrashing weakly while holding his shoulder and crying out in pain.
Pippin was holding Frodo as he looked up at Merry. He shook his head in dismay.
"I . . . I do not know what is wrong! He was alright an hour ago then he started yelling and thrashing and . . . and what's the matter with him, Merry?"
"I don't know but I've never seen it this bad before . . . I'll go and wake Sam. He'll know what to do."
Merry rushed from the bedroom to the guest room where he found Sam asleep in a big leather armchair and hesitated to wake him. How would Sam take this? Watching his best friend cry out in pain and feel helpless. Shoving those thoughts aside he gently shook Sam awake.
"Wh . . . what?" he asked confused, looking around.
"It Frodo." Merry said simply. But it was enough to get Sam rushing from the room to Frodo's side.
Sam knelt next to him, he started smoothed the hair out of his friends face which had a tormented expression, it was unpleasant to look at.
"How long has he been like this?"
"On and off for about an hour but I think for the last fifteen minutes it's been hell on him." Said Merry.
Pippin, who was still cradling Frodo, looked at Sam and in a voice that told Sam he was afraid for Frodo's life said:
"He's awfully shaky and his skin is as cold as ice but he's drenched in sweat! It's not normal! Not at all! And he's crying out as if in pain, which I'm sure as anything he is, he's getting worse as the hour goes. Not better."
Sam racked his fingers through his hair and sighed defeated, he had no idea what to do and told Merry and Pippin such.
"We can't do anything for him, then." Said Merry solemnly. "There's nothing here that would help and it's at least six days ride to Rivendell."
They were all silent, a depressed, pessimistic silence.
"I wish Gandalf was here," said Pippin sadly.
"Well, we still have a few hours so me might get better." Merry said hopefully. "Right Pippin? Right?"
But Pippin wasn't listening. He seemed more interested in the floor, then, all of a sudden, a look of quiet panic came on his face.
"Look," he whispered. "Sunlight."
"What?" Sam asked.
"Just look." Said Merry, his eyes, which usually held endless mirth and mischief were replaced with cold dread.
Sam glanced out of the window and looked at Frodo, who was still shaking and sweating tremendously. Outside the storm had stopped and the first warm rays of sunlight could just be seen creeping over the hills east of The Shire.
"Sam something's severely wrong. He should be improving, not getting worse!" Merry said frantically.
Sam stood there for a few minutes, wondering what to do and how to do it. He was thinking this when there was a nock at the door.
He practically flew to the door, and upon opening it found Aragorn, king of Minas Tirith. Looking troubled and worried.
"Aragorn!" said Sam surprised. "What in the name of Heaven are you doing here?"
"I am here on a matter of great importance. I must see Frodo quickly for fear of what might happen may happen sooner."
Sam was just about to respond when Merry came running out and started speaking so fast that both Aragorn and Sam had to calm him down to make sense of his speech.
"Quick! He's bleeding! He's bleeding! Sam you've go to do something!" Merry said close to tears.
"What? Where?" Sam said.
"I don't know! He put his cut up hand to his shoulder and it came away all bloody."
The trio hurriedly walked back to Frodo's room where they found him gasping as if someone was depriving him of air. His breaths came in short bursts and exhaled in painful moans.
Aragorn walked to the bed, "Which hand is injured?"
"The right one." Pippin said, still cradling Frodo, who was still shaking.
Aragorn moved to the right side of the bed and took the wounded hand carefully slowly he unreaped it and looked at the palm.
"What happened?" he asked.
So the three launched into the retelling of how they had been enjoying a day of being careless and of how Sam was too worried to have any fun so they came here and found their friend unconscious in a pool of his own blood. How they had spent the whole night changing over to keep and eye on Frodo and now that his fever was reaching dangerous levels to which they all thought they were going to loose him.
Aragorn listened quietly until they finished. When they had he got up and tried to look at Frodo's shoulder which was hard because Frodo was clutching it tightly with his left hand. Pippin got off the bed for Aragorn and stood next to Merry. Gently Aragorn preyed to hand off the shoulder and gasped in horror.
"This isn't possible!" he breathed.
"What's not possible, Aragorn?" asked Pippin.
"It's the wound. It is bleeding as if it never were healed. Something is very wrong and I fear this is the cause of it all."
"What do we do?" Sam asked desperately.
"We take him to Rivendell, and fast."
~*~
Along the dirt road a little black pony called Kingston was galloping hard with two riders on his back. Following him very closely was Merry and Pippin who were on Brandy and Frost. Merry was on, Brandy, his brown high- spirited pony while Pippin was on, Frost, his white pony who was old but was used to galloping long distances.
Sam had never been a good rider so he got Kingston, who was used to more inexperienced riders but was a hell of a lot faster than Frost or Brandy but he was also easier to handle when he went fast.
Aragorn had gone on a few hours ahead to let Elrond and Gandalf know that they were coming and too be prepared.
"How's he doing?" Merry called to Sam.
"Not well, he's breathing's becoming more and more shallow, I don't know how much longer her can hold on for." Sam said he really sounded like he was crying.
It was the third day of riding and frankly Frodo wasn't doing too well to it, also he was mumbling nonsense in his feverish state which sounded quiet disturbing.
They pressed, on right into the night until daybreak. It sometime during the early hours of the fourth day when they were galloping through a forest along a river when Frost came down throwing Pippin two meters into the river. Luckily it's bottom was sand and the river was shallow so all Pippin had suffered was getting soaked, Frost, on the other hand, was on the ground coughing and trying to get his breath back.
"Frost! You okay!" Pippin cried crawling over to where the elderly horse lay gasping.
Pippin quickly looked him over and cried out in relief. No leg bones were broken, he was just exhausted and had collapsed.
"Pippin! Pippin! Are you alright?" Merry called.
"Yes, yes. Frost is just tired." Pippin yelled back.
Marry jumped off Brandy and came running toward Pippin and Frost.
"We need to get him up, you can stay behind and take your time when he is ready catch up as best as you can but be careful the next fall could both be your last."
Sam had pulled up Kingston and looked around at the two.
"Why have we stopped? We must keep going!"
"Sam, the ponies are exhausted. If they run any more we'll be riding ghosts." Pippin said, patting Frost.
"Are you saying that your pony's life is more important than Frodo's?" Sam asked furiously.
"No, I am not. I'm just saying that we'll kill them if we keep riding them like this! It's inhumane! And if we lose them, then how will we get Frodo to Rivendell." Merry said. "Let us stop for a few minutes. Let the ponies get their breath back, than we'll keep riding."
They rested for half an hour then started again Frost cantered instead of galloping, Sam was saying about how they had wasted time and every second was precious to them.
For the next day or so Frodo seemed to stable in his condition not getting any worse then he was but not getting any better either.
"Do you think it will pass?" Pippin asked Merry quietly seeing if his older cousin could ease his fears.
"I don't know Pip, let's see what happens first." Merry said, only adding to Pippin's doubts.
"My legs are getting sore," he complained carefully so Sam wouldn't hear him.
"Your legs are sore?" said Merry. "Think how Frostie's are doing."
"It's Frost not Frostie."
~*~
The vast blackness seemed to go on forever. Here there was no protection, no love, or light. Only cold reality. Frodo was lost. He knew that much and no one he knew could he see, people walked past him but took no notice of him.
"Help me, master!"
He quickly turned around, he could hear someone or something crying out for help but he couldn't see them. He couldn't see his friend either.
"Help me, master, before it's to late!"
"Where are you." Frodo called out.
"Right here." Said a cold voice.
"YOU!" cried Frodo.
~*~
"Are we there yet?" Pippin asked.
"Nearly, a few more hours." Sam called.
"Thank goodness." Pippin mumbled.
It was the sixth day and the four hobbits were getting closer to Rivendell by the minute. The ponies were sweating hard but they had somehow gathered more speed as if they were Elf-ponies instead.
An hour later Merry cried out in triumph. "Look it is the waterfall of Rivendell! We are here!"
The three Hobbits cheered and the ponies whinnied along with them for Brandy, Frost and Kingston knew it meant they could have a well earned rest.
They pressed on filled with a new hope. Then out ahead of them they saw a lone figure standing in the middle of the road waving his arm.
It was Legolas! But what was he doing here?
"If my ears and eyes do not deceive me I can hear three tired little ponies heading this way!" he called as a way of greeting.
"Legolas? What are you doing here?" Pippin said, pulling Frost right up next to him.
Legolas studied Sam and Frodo on Kingston and noticed how sickly he looked.
"That is not of any impotence right now, so Aragorn was telling the truth, he is sick then?"
"Yes." Said Sam. "Legolas your hose is faster than our ponies will you take him to Elrond?"
"I m sorry, but I can not." He said sadly. "My horse was shot down on my ride here, and is recovering from it. He is deeply spooked and will let no one not even me to tend to him."
"Then I will head on before it is to late." And Sam pushed Kingston in to a full gallop. Leaving Merry and Pippin with the elf.
"Aragorn wanted to meet you where Frodo was healed last!" Legolas called to the galloping Hobbit he then turned to the other two. "After everything has been done for Frodo Elrond wants to meet you and Sam in a meeting, I will see you there." And he ran into the forest.
"What do you think that was all about." Merry asked. Pippin shrugged and pushed Frost into a canter.
When they had caught up with Sam, they found him not heading toward the place where Aragorn had said to be. Instead they found him on the ground leaning over Frodo and a look of worry growing on his face.
"What has happened?" Merry asked urgently.
"I was near the entrance to Rivendell, when Frodo had gasped and almost stopped breathing I had to dismount and since I've layed him here his breathing has almost returned to normal."
The three hobbits looked at Frodo with growing worry and fear that he my not make it. If it was getting this bad than how would they get to where he could be healed? Would, no, could he hold on a few minutes longer?
Frodo face was pale but it felt as hot as boiling water and drenched in sweat, but his hands and feet were as cold as ice. He constantly shook as if he was outside on a winters day without his beloved green cloak.
As Sam was pushing back Frodo's hair from his sweaty face he began to stir.
"Sam?" he asked weakly. "Where am I? I do not know this place."
"You should," said Merry, smiling slightly. "It is Rivendell, home of Elrond."
"Wha . . .," he breathed hard trying to get breath. "What am I .. I doing here?"
"You're sick, Frodo. We've been trying to get you to Elrond. He will be able to heal you."
"I think you maybe too late for that . . ." Frodo's voice trailed off. His eyes became misted over and he closed his eyes then went limp in Sam's arms.
"No," Sam whispered. "No Frodo, not when we're so close to our goal!"
He began to weep and his shoulders shook with grief.
"Get ELROND!!" he yelled at Merry and Pippin, who started and then flew to where they hoped to find the Half-Elvan Healer.
~*~
Aragorn waited impatiently for the hobbits to make their entrance. He had sent Legolas to see if he could find them. He returned and said they were all looking exhausted and Frodo looked like death could take him at any minute.
This had worried Aragorn further so he mounted his horse and galloped down the road. A few minutes later he came across a running Merry and Pippin who looked upset and distress. He pulled his streed up next to them.
"Where is Sam and Frodo?" he asked.
Merry tried to steady his pony but Brandy was too exhited from the run. And while he did that he told Aragorn the facts.
"Legolas had just left us and we caugh up with Sam but he was on the ground holding Frodo, so we asked what had happened and he told us that Frodo had nearly stopped breathing. Then he came around and was confused because he didn't know where he was. Then his eyes isted over and he went limp. And we went to search for Elrond."
Without a word Aragorn threw his horse into a hard gallop, he had to get there before it was too late, otherwise all would be lost.
A/N 3: When I read this chapter to my sister she looked at me and burst into tears saying: "He only wanted a cup of tea!" She's 8 so what do you expect?
Don't know when next chapter will be up, don't care either. So just wait and see.