Author's Note : I recommend tissue!
ARWEN POV
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------CHAPTER 28 : A Dire Prediction
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I sat Frodo in my lap at the large table. There was certainly a great deal of food left over from the feast, but searching through it for more edible and less harsh on the throat types of food for the little hobbit was a difficult task. While Aragorn spent his time with that, I cradled Frodo gently in my arms, rocking him a little. He was really happy, I could tell, for the first time...probably since Rivendell. I smiled down at him as I brushed a cool cloth over his forehead and his cheeks. He was looking at his pendent, and I knew who he was thinking about. He coughed just then, a miserable sound that came from deep in his chest. It worried me a little...for I had a feeling it was more than just a cough.
I was glad that I had wrapped him in a blanket before bringing him down to the kitchen. Aragorn finally found a bit of chocolate pudding...and some left over mashed potatos and cream corn soup. "What about the Jelly? Is there any of the Apple-wine Jelly left?" I asked Aragorn after nodding to him gently...that sounded like something Frodo might be able to eat. I needed something to soothe his throat. Something strong...that would help his chest. I knew it hurt...and though he was happy...he was in pain.
"I want to stop in Rivendell..." he said softly. "I need" then his body shook with a series of coughs that made me think he was starting to lose his breath.
"I know, Frodo." I told him slowly, turning him against me so I could rub his back, he did not want to take his eyes from the pendent so it was difficult to maneuver him, and he continued to cough, a dry rasping sound. "Breathe Frodo...easy now little one..."
"I'm trying..." his words were hoarse as his breath began to come in small short gasps. He really was working at it, I could tell. "My stomach...hurts..." he whimpered softly. And I knew why...he was hungry...but lately his throat must have hurt him too much to get anything more than a little bit down. I wish I had paid more attention. Aragorn had found a bit more of the jelly...one bowlfull, but it would be enough. I did not believe that he had enough of an appetite to want more. Aragorn helped me to maneuver him back so that we could feed him, and while I bathed his chest and his neck with the cloth, the King put a bit of the jelly on a spoon.
"Frodo...this is a bit strong, maybe too strong for your taste. There's wine in it..white wine...but I've mixed a bit of cream with it so it might taste better. It will not make your throat hurt though."
Aragorn's voice was softer than I had ever seen him use it with anyone, save myself. I smiled at him then, my eyes shining into his. He was worth everything and more. I love you. I mouthed to him gently while I held the small hobbit in my arms. He smiled at me in return and I could tell he felt the same.
Frodo was being somewhat difficult, there was only one thing he wanted to do right now, look at his pendent. We knew he was hungry, he just wanted the pain to go away…and I was aware…as well as the King was…that whenever he held it…it helped him somehow.
Finally, after a great deal of cajoling, the King managed to get Frodo to open his lips. The hobbit grimaced slightly at the taste of apples doused in wine, but it did go down, and he was surprised when he did not feel any pain. He dragged his gaze away from the pendent and nodded for some more.
I stroked his curls while Aragorn continued to feed him, talking to him gently about a tale of Rivendell, gleaning his attention from the pendent. Frodo eventually slipped it back into his pocket and smiled a little, his eyes widening as the King weaved the romantic tale. Before he knew it...we had managed to get the whole bowl into him and his breathing had become a bit more regular. He was hot still though, and sleepy. "I want to see Merilas..." he whimpered softly.
"In a while, Frodo, I'd like you to eat some of this soup, please...Get something more down you before we take you back upstairs. Give Legolas and Merilas some time alone." he reached over and touched the hobbit's chin. He looked to me, and spoke quickly in elvish. "I believe its pneumonia...and a very serious case if his cough is anything to go by...we must get him back to his bed soon and prepare for the worst. If he had told me...if he had told anyone about it before...we might have been able to counter it a lot faster."
I held Frodo tightly in my arms, for I knew what the worst might be. In his current condition, and after everything that he had been through...death was entirely possible.
And from the look in the King's eyes…most likely. I shivered, I knew now why Aragorn wanted him to eat. In the coming days he would want food less and less, and now that he had him here, he was going to get as much food as he could possibly manage into the Hobbit. Frodo whimpered just a little, "I'm a little…cold." he said softly. "Is…is the soup warm?"
"Yes Frodo." Aragorn nodded, "Take just a little at a time…but as much as you possibly can. You have not eaten enough lately…and we must take care to build your appetite." His demeanor was as pleasant and soft as it was before, and if I hadn't heard what was wrong…I would not have suspected anything.
The apple-jelly had loosened his stomach muscles up a little and he was still feeling hungry...so he did comply. Corn was something he did like, though Im sure he would have preferred mushroom soup. Another tale accompanied the bowl of corn while I arranged the blanket a bit more around Frodo, and dabbed a cloth against his back...which felt warm and taunt.
I winced a little when I saw the marks there. Weals. I wanted to cry then, hed been through so much. Why did he have to go through more pain? But it was not for me to say...nor for me to govern the will of the Valar. Twas they who decided the fate of the world and those within it. Perhaps Frodo was destined to remain as he was...never quite strong enough.
What reason could there be to take the life from so small a being? To hold his happiness at bay. I felt guilty...being as happy as I was with Aragorn when I knew that the one person who deserved it the most, the small hobbit in my arms…might never be so.
I knew that he might never be able to get over what happened to him. That he would always carry the pain from the blade that had pierced his shoulder. I vowed just then that Aragorn and I would not rest until he was strong enough to return to Rivendell so that he could be at peace. I would not let him die. I would not. He would fight this, as he fought everything in his life. This was not his fate. This was not his destiny. It could not be...not after all he had done for us. I would not let it be.
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ARWEN POV
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------CHAPTER 28 : A Dire Prediction
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I sat Frodo in my lap at the large table. There was certainly a great deal of food left over from the feast, but searching through it for more edible and less harsh on the throat types of food for the little hobbit was a difficult task. While Aragorn spent his time with that, I cradled Frodo gently in my arms, rocking him a little. He was really happy, I could tell, for the first time...probably since Rivendell. I smiled down at him as I brushed a cool cloth over his forehead and his cheeks. He was looking at his pendent, and I knew who he was thinking about. He coughed just then, a miserable sound that came from deep in his chest. It worried me a little...for I had a feeling it was more than just a cough.
I was glad that I had wrapped him in a blanket before bringing him down to the kitchen. Aragorn finally found a bit of chocolate pudding...and some left over mashed potatos and cream corn soup. "What about the Jelly? Is there any of the Apple-wine Jelly left?" I asked Aragorn after nodding to him gently...that sounded like something Frodo might be able to eat. I needed something to soothe his throat. Something strong...that would help his chest. I knew it hurt...and though he was happy...he was in pain.
"I want to stop in Rivendell..." he said softly. "I need" then his body shook with a series of coughs that made me think he was starting to lose his breath.
"I know, Frodo." I told him slowly, turning him against me so I could rub his back, he did not want to take his eyes from the pendent so it was difficult to maneuver him, and he continued to cough, a dry rasping sound. "Breathe Frodo...easy now little one..."
"I'm trying..." his words were hoarse as his breath began to come in small short gasps. He really was working at it, I could tell. "My stomach...hurts..." he whimpered softly. And I knew why...he was hungry...but lately his throat must have hurt him too much to get anything more than a little bit down. I wish I had paid more attention. Aragorn had found a bit more of the jelly...one bowlfull, but it would be enough. I did not believe that he had enough of an appetite to want more. Aragorn helped me to maneuver him back so that we could feed him, and while I bathed his chest and his neck with the cloth, the King put a bit of the jelly on a spoon.
"Frodo...this is a bit strong, maybe too strong for your taste. There's wine in it..white wine...but I've mixed a bit of cream with it so it might taste better. It will not make your throat hurt though."
Aragorn's voice was softer than I had ever seen him use it with anyone, save myself. I smiled at him then, my eyes shining into his. He was worth everything and more. I love you. I mouthed to him gently while I held the small hobbit in my arms. He smiled at me in return and I could tell he felt the same.
Frodo was being somewhat difficult, there was only one thing he wanted to do right now, look at his pendent. We knew he was hungry, he just wanted the pain to go away…and I was aware…as well as the King was…that whenever he held it…it helped him somehow.
Finally, after a great deal of cajoling, the King managed to get Frodo to open his lips. The hobbit grimaced slightly at the taste of apples doused in wine, but it did go down, and he was surprised when he did not feel any pain. He dragged his gaze away from the pendent and nodded for some more.
I stroked his curls while Aragorn continued to feed him, talking to him gently about a tale of Rivendell, gleaning his attention from the pendent. Frodo eventually slipped it back into his pocket and smiled a little, his eyes widening as the King weaved the romantic tale. Before he knew it...we had managed to get the whole bowl into him and his breathing had become a bit more regular. He was hot still though, and sleepy. "I want to see Merilas..." he whimpered softly.
"In a while, Frodo, I'd like you to eat some of this soup, please...Get something more down you before we take you back upstairs. Give Legolas and Merilas some time alone." he reached over and touched the hobbit's chin. He looked to me, and spoke quickly in elvish. "I believe its pneumonia...and a very serious case if his cough is anything to go by...we must get him back to his bed soon and prepare for the worst. If he had told me...if he had told anyone about it before...we might have been able to counter it a lot faster."
I held Frodo tightly in my arms, for I knew what the worst might be. In his current condition, and after everything that he had been through...death was entirely possible.
And from the look in the King's eyes…most likely. I shivered, I knew now why Aragorn wanted him to eat. In the coming days he would want food less and less, and now that he had him here, he was going to get as much food as he could possibly manage into the Hobbit. Frodo whimpered just a little, "I'm a little…cold." he said softly. "Is…is the soup warm?"
"Yes Frodo." Aragorn nodded, "Take just a little at a time…but as much as you possibly can. You have not eaten enough lately…and we must take care to build your appetite." His demeanor was as pleasant and soft as it was before, and if I hadn't heard what was wrong…I would not have suspected anything.
The apple-jelly had loosened his stomach muscles up a little and he was still feeling hungry...so he did comply. Corn was something he did like, though Im sure he would have preferred mushroom soup. Another tale accompanied the bowl of corn while I arranged the blanket a bit more around Frodo, and dabbed a cloth against his back...which felt warm and taunt.
I winced a little when I saw the marks there. Weals. I wanted to cry then, hed been through so much. Why did he have to go through more pain? But it was not for me to say...nor for me to govern the will of the Valar. Twas they who decided the fate of the world and those within it. Perhaps Frodo was destined to remain as he was...never quite strong enough.
What reason could there be to take the life from so small a being? To hold his happiness at bay. I felt guilty...being as happy as I was with Aragorn when I knew that the one person who deserved it the most, the small hobbit in my arms…might never be so.
I knew that he might never be able to get over what happened to him. That he would always carry the pain from the blade that had pierced his shoulder. I vowed just then that Aragorn and I would not rest until he was strong enough to return to Rivendell so that he could be at peace. I would not let him die. I would not. He would fight this, as he fought everything in his life. This was not his fate. This was not his destiny. It could not be...not after all he had done for us. I would not let it be.
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