CHAPTER 9
He was rocked gently by a soft voice that seemed to drift around and through him; soothing wherever it touched. He could not understand the words of her song but Frodo had not the strength to worry about it. He only accepted gratefully the warmth that bathed his soul in comforting music. He seemed to float in a misty dream world, aware that somewhere below him pain lay waiting, but the melody held him aloft, cradling him like a babe in mother's arms, safe and secure from it.
Frodo could not tell whether she had been singing to him for only minutes of for hours but, slowly, he found himself being lowered back into the world of discomfort and cares. His heart cried out, trying to flee back to the peaceful harmony of the song but, with a final long note, he was released.
He was warm. Pleasantly warm: not the burning heat of fever. There was a distant but tolerable ache in his leg and a feeling of tenderness in his chest, but the cramps in his stomach were gone and his body felt relaxed and rested. Frodo sighed and shifted a little.
"Mr Frodo? Frodo? Are you awake?" Sam's voice, somewhere close by. "Can you open your eyes?"
Frodo resisted the action for a moment, fearfull that he would open his eyes and find that the present comfort was all a dream and the pain and dizziness would come rushing back in again.
"Come on now, Master. They said you should drink this as soon as you woke up. Won't you open your eyes for your Sam?" Frodo felt gentle fingers stroking the sensitive skin beneath his eye and knew that his friend would not be denied when he had his mind set to a task.
Opening his eyes, he tried to blink the world in to focus. It took him a moment to realise that he was staring at embroidered cloth, high above him. Strong sunlight was filtered through the thick dark fabric, soothing to his dry eyes.
"There now, Mr Frodo. I knew you could do it. Let me just help you up a bit and you can drink this."
Sam's face hovered above him and Frodo felt a hand beneath his head, raising him just enough to reach the small cup that his friend brought to his lips. The liquid was cool and sweet, with a slightly sharp edge; refreshing to the dry tissues of his mouth and throat and settling gently on his stomach, from where it sent tendrils of relief to every fibre of his body. The remaining aches and pains faded and Frodo sighed again as Sam lowered his head back onto the fluffy pillows, tucking soft woollen blankets closely about his shoulders.
The Ringbearer turned his head to try and find the owner of the beautiful song. He was lying on a soft feather mattress in the corner of a large, finely appointed pavilion. Other mattresses were laid about the carpeted floor and in a corner he could see an assortment of gear that he recognised as belonging to members of the Fellowship, but he and Sam were alone. The song had faded but in its place was the soft whisper of a thousand leaves, stirred in a gentle breeze and the dancing splash of a fountain that Frodo could see just beyond the entrance to the pavilion. His eyes returned to Sam, who was sitting quietly watching him reacquaint himself with the world.
"Where did the Lady go?"
"What Lady, Mr Frodo? There was an Elf. They said he was a healer but there weren't no Lady. It was him that left the medicine for you."
Sam frowned and reached out to lay a hand on his master's brow, checking for signs of any lingering fever. He was relieved to find the skin dry and comfortably warm but he was still worried that his Master seemed to be rambling a little.
"Perhaps I only dreamed her. She sang to me and it felt so good, Sam. Like floating in a lake of warm water. I didn't want to wake up."
His friend smiled. "Well, this is a place for dreaming, and no mistake. We've been here three days, I think, but it's difficult to tell the difference between sleeping and waking. It's like being in the middle of the nicest dream you've ever had – if you take my meaning, Master. Maybe you were just having a nice dream. Goodness knows but you deserve one after all those nightmares you've been having. I've watched you tossing all the while you had that fever and it nearly tore me up."
Frodo saw the glisten of tears threatening to spill from his friends eyes and pulled a hand out from his blankets to rest on Sam's arm.
"Maybe you're right Sam. I do feel a lot better now." Something Sam had said suddenly registered. "Did you say we have been here three days?"
Sam laughed. "Bless you, yes, Mr Frodo. You were sleeping when we arrived and, to be honest, I think we all must have slept a full day after we got here. We were that tired. You were handed over to the healer straight away and it was him and Strider that's been looking after you. Your fever broke yesterday and you've been sleeping very deeply ever since."
Frodo tried to bring some memory to the surface but there was only the soft melody of the Lady. He was surprised by a yawn and found that his eyelids were beginning to droop. Sam chuckled when he saw Frodo trying to stifle a second yawn.
"They said as how you'd be a bit tired yet. Why don't you go back to sleep. I'll be here if you need me."
"Thank you. I think I will just take a little nap." With that, Frodo closed his eyes and let the soft murmur of the trees lull him back to sleep.
When next he awoke it was to the sound of quiet conversation and the smell of warm bread. Daylight filtered through the embroidered canopy and all about him the other members of the Fellowship were rising from their beds and dressing. It was Pippin who first noticed that his cousin's eyes were open. He paused in fastening his shirt and grinned down at Frodo.
"Hello. I was hoping you weren't going to wake up and I could have your share of breakfast again." Merry joined his cousin, cuffing him lightly on the ear.
"Honestly, Pip. I'd have thought you were full to overflowing by now, the amount of food you've eaten since we got here. I'd swear you had hollow legs."
Frodo laughed and made to sit up, noticing for the first time, that he had been dressed in an overly embroidered and slightly too large silk nightshirt. Merry immediately reached down to help him, arranging the cushions and pillows so that he could lean back comfortably. Just then Sam appeared with a covered tray.
"Good morning, Mr Frodo. What do you say to a little breakfast? I've got fresh bread with a fruit conserve, and mushrooms in an omelette so light it's like to float away if you don't eat it fast." He set the tray down on Frodo's lap and whisked away the covering cloth. Frodo's stomach answered for him, letting out a long, anticipatory growl.
Pippin giggled. "I think that was, "Yes please"
"Pip! Come on and get your own breakfast and leave Frodo to enjoy his in peace. If I get to the table before you I shall be eating your share, for a change," threatened Merry as he pushed his younger cousin towards the entrance.
As he made to follow, Merry suddenly leant down and gave Frodo a big hug. "It's so good to see you well, Frodo." Then he straightened and ran after Pippin before Frodo had a chance to reply. Sam noticed Merry wipe his eyes on his sleeve as he left.
Boromir and Gimli left a little later, after first stopping by to say good morning. Of Legolas and Aragorn there was no sign.
The breakfast lived up to Sam's description. The omelette was as light as air and the bread was soft and white. Sam kept up a steady stream of light talk as he watched his master eat, describing the wonderful world they had been brought to and encouraging Frodo to take, "just a little more" whenever he looked as though he was going to stop eating.
When he finally managed to convince his friend that he could not eat another bite, Frodo had eaten the entire omelette and two of the little bread buns with some wild strawberry conserve. Secretly, Sam did not consider it enough for a hobbit but he decided not to confront his Master's stubborn streak just yet.
Over the rest of the morning the other members of the Fellowship drifted in to talk with the Ringbearer, in one's and two's. Sam always hovered somewhere in the background and had a knack of seeing when his Master was beginning to tire, at which point he would find some excuse to shoo them away.
By the entrance, Pippin was actually beginning to enjoy counting the different reasons Sam found. Of course, nobody was fooled, but they all played along, thankful that Frodo was so much better already and willing to co-operate with anyone helping to bring him back to full health. Although his eyes had not yet regained their sparkle and were set in dark circles, the colour was returning to Frodo's cheek and lips. His voice was a little weak but Pippin was pleased to hear his cousin laugh at one of Gimli's dreadful jokes. It was a sound that the young hobbit had thought he may never hear again and he had to turn away so that Frodo could not see the tears rolling down his face.
Merry had been watching his cousin carefully and drew Pippin away within the circle of his arm, holding him close when the younger hobbit finally broke down. Merry had begun to worry at the wisdom of Pippin being a part of their fellowship. He had been almost inconsolable outside Moria, after Gandalf had…….fallen. Merry found that he still could not use the word, "died". To have Frodo so desperately ill, so soon afterwards, was almost more than any of them could bear and Merry had done his own weeping earlier that morning.
Pippin was too young to be subjected to such pain. Yet he had borne it like an adult and had even been able to give support to his companions in the darkness of their own despair. So bright a spirit had he that even the silent Boromir could not ignore him for long: the man's deep chuckle intertwined with the hobbit's light giggle, as Pippin regaled him with one of his exaggerated stories of the doings of his many relations in Tuckborough. Sitting amongst the roots of one of Lothlorien's huge trees, Pippin sobbing in his arms, Merry could not imagine going on without him and hugged his cousin close, offering what comfort he could.
At lunch time Aragorn and Legolas returned, with the healer. When Legolas saw his companion sitting up in bed, he broke in to a smile that Sam was sure would have put the sun to shame, his brilliant green eyes shining like emeralds. Even Aragorn's dour face lit up at the sight. The healer having changed the dressings on Frodo's leg and departed, Elf and Man sat with their friend for a little while; reassembling for him the pieces of the past few days.
When lunch was served there was a lot of light hearted bargaining between Frodo and Aragorn, which resulted in the hobbit being allowed to eat at table with the rest of the Fellowship, under the proviso that he was carried there and back by Aragorn and then took some more rest.