Author's note : This is taking place roughly at the same time as the previous chapter. Give or take a few days. Anyway. Frodo Baggins of Bag end wrote for the part of Frodo and for Lilian.J Please visit her site here, she's an awesome writer.J
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CHAPTER 23 -- The Shire 3001 -- "Alone"
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It was unusually chill for autumn. . .and inside Bag End, Frodo's room was heated by a blazing fire in the hearth, though even this seemed at times insufficient to comfort the young heir, who shivered as chills wracked his small body. He tossed restlessly in his bed, moaning, soaked with perspiration: an icy sweat drenched his burning brow, and he looked pale. . .deathly pale, despite the eerie flush of hectic pink across his high cheekbones. He had slept a bit, with Merry's coaxing, but he seemed miserable, and with good reason. . .he seemed very ill indeed, and had thrown up repeatedly, too sick at his stomach even to keep down medicine or cooling drink; in addition, his breathing seemed difficult and quick.
He begged for Gailethil. . .but she did not come, and there was no answer to his pleas.
He began to ask for Bilbo, but remembered. . .and began to weep, as he felt horribly alone.
And by now, afternoon of the third day after the Party, he found that he had never felt so alone. . .not even when his parents died, for then he had Bilbo to come, and Gailethil. . .and then his auntie. . .and now there was no one. . .no one save his younger cousins, who did not understand. . . .
Weakly he turned in bed, feeling as if he might be on the verge of being sick again, he tries not to cough for fear of provoking a bout of vomiting. He felt at once cold and hot, and utterly miserable. . .where was Merry? He wanted something to drink. . .and a cloth for his head. . .and another blanket. . .but most of all, someone. . .someone with him, to hold his hand and stroke his hair. . . .
Where was Gailethil?
With Glorfindel, no doubt, he thought bitterly, burying his face in the pillows.
There was a movement by the door and Merry came in quickly with some juice and fresh cloths. "Frodo." he set the juice down and looked down at his older cousin in concern. He'd never seen him like this before, not really. Once or twice when he was a small child and Frodo was staying at Brandy Hall.
"Frodo, I've got some cool juice here, like you wanted." He sat down on the edge of the bed and wondered where Angeline was, but knew it took time to get from Brandy Hall to Hobbiton. He hoped she hurried.
Frodo had not spoken much, but the look in his eyes whenever he opened them spoke volumes. His cousin looked like he lost everything. Merry changed the cloth on Frodo's forehead , worrying about the level of the fever. He pulled a blanket back up over the young master of Bag End that had been kicked off the bed earlier. "Frodo, tell me what's wrong?" he tried to help lift his cousin a little so he could drink from the glass.
Pippin at the door, glanced inside, "Merry..is he ready for something to eat?" the younger hobbit was for once in his life properly subdued. "Sam wants to know."
It was raining heavily outside, and Merry supposed that was what was taking Angeline a while. He had stressed urgency in his letter.
"No. . . ."
Moaning, Frodo opened his eyes and looked up at Merry through blue eyes half-clouded by delirium. That look of horrible and complete loss, however, has not dimmed: he seems devastated, and the expression in his features is one of despair.
"No. . .I feel sick. . .maybe a sip. . .of. . .of juice. . . . I w-want. . .Bilbo. . .please. . .o-or. . .Gailethil. . . . Oh, Merry. . . ."
He began to cry once more, his breath came too quickly, in short, tremulous gasps.
"Pippin, get me a fresh basin of water and tell Sam to put some ice in it." Merry directed immediately. He frowned at his cousin, Gailethil...where had he heard that name before? "Frodo...Bilbo's gone, I'm sorry...He's not going to come… Who is Gailethil?" He tried to get Frodo to drink a little of the juice, not too much, but just a bit. Its regular cool apple juice.
Pippin looked as though he was going to ask something but Merry ordered sharply, "Now!" and Pippin hurried off.
"Look here, Frodo, you've got to drink something, its not good for the fever. Aunty told me. Come on now." His arm is a steady one, but its a small one, and not someone who is about to cuddle him, but someone who is at least willing to comfort him.
"Gailethil. . .my best friend. . . ."
Weakly Frodo leant against Merry's arm and allowed his cousin to ease him up enough for some sips of juice. He dranks, but the effort is weak and half-hearted, and more than once he hesitated, as if unwilling to take even another taste. Tears still dampened his pale features, and he trembled as if frozen through, though he felt burning hot to the touch.
"Your friend..." Merry frowned slightly, he remembered the name and was trying to place the memory. He set the glass down and used a cloth to try and dry his cousin's face, but there's no water yet. "Pippin! Hurry up with that water." Merry called out to the hall. "Where can I find this...Gailethil? Can I get her for you?"
There were voices outside, Sam was speaking with someone in the hallway, a feminine voice. Then there was a flurry of activity in the Kitchen and Pippin entered the room with a local healer, he was carrying a big basin of water with ice in it and a lot of towels, looking quite flustered and confused by what is going on.
"Good afternoon, Master Brandybuck. . .how is Master Baggins?"
The voice was clear and crisp as a winter's morning, but also warm and reassuring: Lilian Goodbody, the head healer from Bywater, entered the room and carried a large basket which she promptly set aside and strode quickly to the bedside. Bending over Frodo, she motioned Pippin closer, straightening for a moment as she sought a smaller cloth in the stack of towels.
"I came as quickly as I could. Sam Gamgee tells me he's been in and out, and hasn't been able to keep anything down?"
Frodo whimpered weakly, and moaned. "Merry. . . ."
Merry smiled in relief at Lilian's entrance.
"Thank-goodness. He has not eaten a thing in three days, ma'am, not since the Party anyway. He took ill late that night, and doesn't seem to be wanting to get better. He keeps asking for Bilbo...and someone named Gailethil. Do you have any idea who he's talking about? I think he's a bit delirious, in truth."
Merry got out of the way so that Lilian can work. "There now, Cousin. Lilian's here, she's going to take a look at you. Mind her, will you?" Merry's tone was true "Master of the house". He seemed to have been directing this whole affair quite well and had taken control Bag End, managing to stall the throngs of Frodo's nosy relations.
Pippin bobbed his head, and set down the basin. He brushed his masses of curls out of his eyes and peered curiously at his bedridden cousin. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked worriedly. "He hasn't eaten anything a'tall. It isn't natural. He can't live much longer without anything to eat, can he?" The younger hobbit's main concern of course was the fact that his older cousin wasn't eating. As far as Pippin's was concerned, not being able to eat might as well be the kiss of death.
Lilian smiled kindly and found the washcloth. She set it in the basin of chilled water before she began to examine Frodo, undressing him as she worked.
"He can, Master Took, I assure you. . .it is not good to go without eating, especially not so long as he has now, but he will not die from it. We do need to get him eating again, but it's most important of all that we find out what's the matter and try to make that better. If he doesn't wish to get well, then he won't, more likely than not."
Frodo moaned, and she shushed him soothingly as she laid a cool hand gently against his forehead. "We'll have to get the fever down at once, though. . .that's partly why he doesn't feel up to eating, and it would explain the delirium."
As she bent over Frodo, she wrung out the cloth and began to bathe his face and neck with careful strokes, her touch was light and practiced. "Master Baggins. . .I'm Lilian Goodbody, from the Healing House over at Bywater. Your cousins sent for me when you fell ill. Can you tell me whom it is you keep asking for. . .Gailethil? We'll help if we can, but we don't know what or whom that is, and until we know, we can't really do very much. . . ."
Frodo shook his head weakly. "Never. . .mind. . . ." he murmured through his tears.
Pippin nodded enthusiastically, happy that someone was here who knew what they were doing. From what he had heard of Lilian, he was quite sure she'll make everything alright again.
"Can I bring anything from the kitchen?" he asks, "Sam and I can make whatever you need. Between us we can make anything in the shire, I'll wager." he puffed up his chest a bit.
"My sister has been teaching me a lot of recipes for soups and broths and things, will that help? I don't much like them, but she insisted that I learn. Don't see the point, I don't get ill that often, and when I do…don't have to do anything anyway. What about to drink? is juice okay…or should he have something else? Gailethil…Hey Merry…isn't that the name that Aunt Emerald said you spelt when you were a kid? Funny that Frodo should mention it now. I remember how she was all on about how you were insisting that it meant something it didn't mean…what was it again? I don't remember exactly…" he scratches his head, "Anyway…what can we start doing in the kitchen, Ms Lilian? I sure would like to help…and…" Pippin paused for a breath.
"Pretty." Merry took that moment to interrupt Pippin before he could go off on another tangent. "That's what I told Mother." he looked down at Frodo curiously, trying to remember. "I was really young though…so I don't really remember much."
As she unfastened Frodo's nightshirt, Lilian folded back the covers and continued to sponge him down gently, her tone soothing as she spoke with him. "Master Baggins. . .I'm sorry we cannot help, but perhaps you can answer some questions for me so I can try and help you feel better. Your cousins are right here, and we won't leave you. How is your stomach feeling?"
As she spoke, she pressed lightly against his small belly. Pippin's question caught her attention, though she listened to Frodo's answer first.
Frodo shook his head. "Aches. . .all tight, and I feel sick. . .so sick. . . ."
Lilian nodded understandingly before she looked back up at Pippin. "Thank you, dear. . .if you could prepare some light broth, something very simple and nourishing, easy to keep down, that would be best. Apple juice, or grape or cranberry, will be fine for him. . .though cracked ice is best if there's an icehouse. . .otherwise, cool water in addition to the juice. . . . Don't bring the broth until I tell you, though. And ginger tea. . .he needs some good, strong ginger tea; we can dilute it with apple juice and a little honey. That will ease the chills and bring his fever down a bit, while helping the nausea."
She glanced over to Merry. "Has he had any upset lately? As I understand, Master Bilbo hasn't been seen, and left everything to young Master Frodo here. . .but that may account for it. If Bilbo was his closest family, he may be depressed. . .and that would be enough, in someone who was already falling ill, both to crush the spirit and to upset his stomach." She rubs the young hobbit's tummy with a feather-light touch, attempting to soothe him as she continues sponging him down with the cool cloth. "Is there anyone else he loves dearly. . .someone you might be able to send for, if no one can find his guardian?"
As Pippin obediently hurried off to the kitchen, eager to help out, Merry bit his lip, he hadn't wanted to build up Frodos hopes because he wasn't certain that Angeline could make it on account of her being pregnant and all.
"To tell you the truth ma'am. I sent for my mother's sister; Angeline Brandybuck. She took care of him when he was small, and told me to keep an eye on him here. I think she knew that Bilbo was leaving, Ma'am. I don't know of anyone else, though. She might though, she should be here sometime tonight...if they took the carriage...if she can make it. She's..." Merry turned a bit red. "Going to have a baby, so I did not know if she could come here."
Merry thought a bit more at her other question, his responses slow and careful. Unlike his cousin, Merry tended to think before he spoke. "Come to think of it...he did seem to have a nightmare the morning of the Party...he was crying when he woke up. I know...because I woke him up. He wouldn't tell me what it was about though. Could that be part of it? There's an ice-box in Bag-End, I'm sure Pip'll be able to bring something."
"Oh, dear. . .I can't imagine a much worse situation. . .poor poppet. . . . Yes, crushed ice would be good for him to eat, and yes, I suspect that could be part of it, though fevers often cause nightmares. More likely than not he was already ill and no one realised." She sighed and studied the ailing hobbit with concerned green eyes. "Let us hope Mrs. Brandybuck can come, and in the meantime we'll have to do the best we can: bring down the temperature with cool baths and compresses. . .keep a hot water-bottle against his stomach to ease the pain. . .ginger tea weakened with apple juice and honey to treat the symptoms and provide a tiny bit of nourishment until he can keep down broth and soup. . .and cracked ice, plenty of cracked ice and any sips of water or juice he can take to prevent dehydration. There shouldn't be any danger to Angeline if she comes: I suspect this illness is mostly due to exhaustion and grief, not to mention his constitution. But he is going to require a great deal of care, Master Brandybuck. . .and I cannot speak for the outcome."
Frodo seemed not to understand Merry's words. . .he moaned softly, wincing as he was touched, though Lilian's massaging and sponging seemed to ease him a tiny bit.
Merry's expression was grave, "I understand." as young as he was, the son of Saradoc Brandybuck had a good strong head on his shoulders and a way about things that made him easily much older than his years. Though he could laugh and cause pranks with the best of them, there was a seriousness about him that never failed to come forth when the time needed it.
He frowned slightly as he remembered some of his mother's words. "I do remember a little bit now, Maam. I don't know if this has anything to do with anything. But My mother said that I insisted I saw a pretty lady dancing with Frodo when I was a child. Could that have been this Gailethil he's talking about? My mother says Frodo's always been a bit fanciful, his imagination seemed to get her down a lot. " He glanced towards the hallway.
Surprisingly quiet, Pippin pattered in with a tray of ginger tea, crushed ice in a glass, and fresh apple juice, and a hot water bottle. He tried hard not to talk and looked as though Sam perhap told him to get in and out quick. He did seem to be bursting with questions though, and was doing a mighty fine job of restraining himself, considering his natural tendency. He took a deep breath and spoke only one sentence with great effort. "Sam says to say he's seen a carriage pulling up North Hill lane and is going to see if he can help." He smiled proudly at himself for managing to stop there.
Lilian smiled approvingly and reached up to pat Pippin's arm as she took the hot water-bottle, and wrapped it in a soft towel before laying it carefully against Frodo's small tummy, nodding to Merry. "Good! Thank you, Master Took."
To Merry, she pondered. "I don't know. . .he's also always been rather frail, to my understanding, and frequent fevers can do that, but if you think you know anything of her, then that might help: it could well be. Here now, help me get him out of his night-shirt. . .that'll do him no good; if he stays in it while it's damp from sweating, he'll get chilled, and moving him to change it as often as he needs is very bad for him; he needs rest."
As she bent over Frodo, she cooed softly. "There now, Master Baggins. . .there's some nice crushed ice for you once we get you all settled. . .all right? Ssssshh now, there's a good lad. . . ."
Frodo complied weakly and allowed Lilian to ease him up a bit. He sighed with relief as she lay the hot water-bottle against his aching stomach. "Want. . .Mamma. . . ." he murmured faintly, though, his blue eyes clouded with delirium.
Pippin beamed, though his face lost a bit of that brightness when he saw Frodo's condition. However, hearing the front door of Bag End open and Sam talking with someone he was easily distracted. and..he rushed out to help.
Merry helped Lilian with his cousin, his nimble hands of good assistance. "I don't know, ma'am." he shooks his head, "I've never met anyone named Gailethil. Its not really a hobbit name is it? Perhaps shes someone from one of Bilbo's tales?"
Pippin returned; and opened the door quickly, ushering Angeline intos the room. About three months pregnant, she's wrapped from head to foot and followed closely by her husband, who is in the process of unwrapping the various bits and pieces hurriedly. "He's in here, Aunty. Hurry...."
Once free from cloaks and blankets, the young ladyhobbit smiled warmly to Lilian, then approached the bed cautiously. "I'm so sorry it took us so long, Merry. We actually headed out -before- the party as Bilbo sent me a note too. I think he was concerned because the poor lad was sick a month before the party. We would have been here sooner but one of the carriage wheels had an accident and we had to replace it in Whitfurrows. Yours came to us on the road, would you believe. Frodo...Frodo dear. Hello there..." she smiled as brightly as she could for his sake as she came closer to the bed.
"Aunt Angeline. . . ."
The name escaped Frodo's lips as a weak cry. . .and he put out his arms, beginning to sob afresh. He had never been so glad to see anyone in all his life.
Lilian shrugged at the question, nodding gratefully as Merry assisted her, though she smiled with relief as Angeline entered.
"We're very glad you could come, ma'am. He needs someone he's close to just now: that will do more good for him than any medicine I can give. As I've assured Merry, there's no danger: he's a sensitive lad, and I suspect his condition has much to do with that." Since Frodo was out of his night-shirt, she carefully tucked the covers over him, deftly reached for the cup of crushed ice. She fished out a bit and put it to his lips even as he put out his arms for his aunt. "There now. . .just a taste of ice, Master Baggins. . .that's all. . . . It'll help you feel better. . . ."
Angeline nodded carefully, "Laradoc was a bit worried about that, he fusses, dear that he is." she took Merry's place by Frodo's bed, glancing about for a moment as though she might have been looking for someone. She does not take her time however to gather the weak little hobbit into her arms, "Oh, poor sweetie. I'm here...there now." she rubbed his back gently, "Let it all out. Its okay to cry...and do try and take some of that ice, sugar, you need it."
Laradoc and Pippin do leave the room, but Merry stayed on hand to help out if needed.
Her condition did not seem to hamper her much to hold Frodo close as she soothed him gently. "How did this happen?" she asked Lilian, then glanced to Merry, then back to the nurse. "How long has he been like this?"
Sobbing, her little charge clung to her, snuggling with relief as she cuddled him. Obediently he took the ice, though, and allows Lilian to slip a bit between his dry lips. He sucked on the bits of ice quietly as he nestles in his aunt's arms.
Lilian nodded to Merry. "Master Brandybuck can tell you more, I think, but he fell ill the night of the party, and hasn't been well since. To be frank, Mrs. Brandybuck, your nephew was probably already becoming ill, and the strain of Master Bilbo's. . .disappearance. . .was too much for him. The combination. . ."
She lowered her voice.
". . .may prove fatal. I'm afraid that what he needs most right now is a great deal of care: lots of love and attention, plenty of fluids, complete bed rest. . .it's important he be made as comfortable as possible. There are a few medicines I can give, but without the sort of nursing he needs, they will be of absolutely no use whatsoever. I can stay and assist in caring for him, but he needs to always have someone close to him. . .the finest care in the world cannot replace that."
Angeline clutched Frodo to her with a little tremor in her voice, "Oh Sweetie." She pulled back his damp hair with her warm fingers and cuddled him closely. With quick fingers, she arranges the hot water bottle back on his tummy. Clearly something else is troubled her as she looked about the room almost expectantly. "Has any medication at all been given to him? Did anyone give you anything yet Frodo?"
It seemed a bit odd that she would ask Frodo the same question, but she does none the less. She wrapped both arms around the lad, "Don't you fret, sweetie, I'm here. There's a good lad." she encouraged softly as Lilian pressed the ice crystals into his lips. "You need liquid."
"It doesn't matter," sniffled Frodo, sobbing. He shook his head at the question.
Lilian, still feeding him bits of ice as he will take them, replies. "He hasn't had anything from me, yet: Merry can speak for anything before, but I have some chamomile-peppermint syrup that should help him sleep and possibly bring the fever down a bit, perhaps calm him a little. We can try some ginger syrup as well, though the tea we have here would be better for him. I'm very reluctant to suppress that cough yet, though, until we see how his lungs are. . .and we can't tell that until he's through the worst of this. . . ."
Merry shook his head, "We tried...but he wouldn't keep it down, Aunty." he looked over at Lilian and nodded. "He hasn't really slept either. Not since he had that nightmare. I think that syrup would be a good idea." he helped Lilian when she needed it, quite a somber young lad at the moment.
"A nightmare? What happened sweetie?" Angeline began to understand more than the others. "Honey, why doesn't it matter? You need to get better. You want to don't you?" she stroked his cheek gently and motioned for a cool cloth. Merry handed it to her and she dabbed softly at the tears, washing them away gently. "You've come of age...and everything here is yours now. You've got a lot to look to and plan, Sweetie."
"Y-You have. . .Uncle L-Laradoc. . .and th-the baby," Frodo murmured, still sobbing piteously. "And B-Bilbo's gone away. . .and. . .auntie, S-Gailethil's gone. . . . It doesn't matter. . .I might as well be dead. . .there's nothing to plan. . .no reason. . . . I-I. . .I saw h-her. . .and h-he was there. . .and s-she was wearing that. . .b-bracelet. . . ."
He gulped back tears as he tries to continue talking despite his shortness of breath.
"She's. . .w-with him, or. . .m-maybe ill, or. . .or. . .d-dead. . . . I don't *want* to live. . .an-anymore. . . ."
Giving an anxious sigh,,Lilian motioned to Merry to hand her the basket, her green eyes dark as she listens.
Angeline tried to keep her expression soft, though clearly she's perturbed by this. She does not however, wonder who Gailethil is, in fact…she seemed to know exactly who Gailethil is. She used the cloth to clean his cheeks and dry his eyes. "Just because I am having a baby, Sweetie, does not mean I love you any less." and her words were warm and kind. "I know it might seem to be a lot of things, what you saw. Do you know for sure? I know that you love her sweetie, and whatever you saw hurt you. After all this time…after what she has done for you…are you going to give up without a fight? She may need you now, Frodo, if she is ill. You don't want to let her down, do you?" she nodded for Lilian to put a few more crystals into the weak hobbits mouth.
Merry watched, concern in his eyes, he was not entirely certain what to make of it, but since his Aunt seemed to know what was going on, he does not interfere or as any questions.
Lilian listened and frowned curiously, though she continued feeding the little hobbit bits of crushed ice. "Mrs. Brandybuck, if you know how we can find this person he wants, it would be best if we did so at once. . . ."
Still tearful, Frodo shook his head a little. "I d-don't, but. . .sh-she'd be better off. . .I-I'm not like her. . . ." He began to cough a little, and dropped against her shoulder once more: his forehead felt burning hot to the touch against her, even through her autumn dress.
Angeline took a small breath and rubbed his back as he coughs. "Is there something for his throat...we must bring down the fever." she ran her fingers through his damp curls, putting the cloth to his head.. "Gailethil is..." she glanced over at Merry who stepped aside but was ready to help if needed. "It is a little difficult to explain...Gailethil is not here, and she cannot come here...unless Frodo is ill...and she's not here now...so I'm not sure."
She sighed, "Gailethil is his..." she smiled a little, "Well, Bilbo and I like to think of her as his intended, but we don't want to jump to conclusions just yet and were letting the little ones decide for themselves when the time was right and if everything...worked out. She's not a Hobbit, ma'am. Gailethil is an elf. She lives in Rivendell. She..." she strovet to explain. "She's seen to him since he was a small lad. Since he lost his parents. Like a good fairy, if you remember the old legends. She can't be sent for. She comes. But...I don't know what to do...she's not here. Usually she is. And from what I gather from the little one's vision...she might be in trouble and that is why he is so upset. You have to understand...she was with him since he lost his mama."
She looked down to the small bundle in her arms. "Frodo, let Lilian give you something for your throat, please, Sweetie. "No...you're not like her...but she loves you. She might need you to be strong now. Can you do that for her, Frodo?"
If Lilian is utterly convinced of the family's insanity, she controlled her feelings well. Nonetheless, she gave Angeline a curious look, rather dubious and shook her head.
"I. . .believe you, Mrs. Brandybuck, difficult though it is for me to do so. . .but whatever you say. . . . And that would certainly explain it. If you can keep trying to calm him. . .the best will be just to get Master Brandybuck to hand you cool cloths well wrung out and to bathe him. . .I'll get some medicine for him if you can manage with that."
She rose and goes to the basket, searching for a particular bottle.
Frodo moaned and continued to cry softly, shaking his head and burying it into his aunt's shoulder, the back-rubbing apparently was the only thing that kept him at all calm at that moment.
Merry looked quite stunned by the revelation. "Its true! I saw her...then...when I was a child." he gazed at Lilian. "She -was- with him. It was an elf I saw...!" he helps Angeline with the cool cloths instantly as the young mother soothed his cousin.
"There now, sweetie. I'm sure she'll be alright and there will be a good explanation for everything. You just let it all out....its okay to cry m'dear, its okay to cry." Angeline dabbed the cloth against his cheeks and back and wiped at the sweat and tears.
Her reassurances seemed to console him a little, but he continues to cry and clung to her almost desperately. Bit by bit, his sobs seemed to ease, and he calmed, her touch and the cool bathing soothing him.
As she retrieved the bottle, Lilian returned to the bed and selected a clean spoon from the bedside table. She nodded to Angeline, her voice low.
"We'll need to get him to take two spoonfuls of this if possible. . . ."
Angeline was patient with the little one and let him cry as he might. She dried his tears with the cool cloth and held him close to her. "I think he might be able to manage that…perhaps with a bit of water first. Frodo…it will help you sleep?"
"A-all right. . . ." He sniffled, and turned his head a little, allowing Lilian to hold a cup to his lips and coax a few sips of iced water into him before she administered the medicine. He took the medicine simply and without complaint, giving in as he clung to his aunt. "Wh-when will y-you be. . .leaving. . .a-again?" he added fretfully, still on the verge of returning tears.
Merry had never before seen his cousin quite so miserable, he sighed a little, wishing there was more that he could do. Angeline clicked her tongue, "We'll be staying for a while, my pet. Don't you worry. I think perhaps we might…get a letter out to Rivendell. Laradoc knows where to take it. I don't know if it will help, but at least we might know what is going on. Do you want to write her a letter, Frodo? In the morning?" she stroked his curls gently and rocked him softly.
He nodded weakly and snuggled against her.
"Please. . .I. . .I'd like that. . .very m-much. . . . Please. . .please d-don't leave me. . . ."
His eyes closed and his voice grows drowsy as he replies.
"Mmm-hmm. . .if you say so. . .auntie. . .I'll. . .try. . . . Just. . .not. . .hungry. . . ."
And as he grew drowsy she fluffed the pillows behind him and rocked him gently until he finally fell asleep., humming a little tune. Once he is, she smiled gently down at him and touched his cheek watching him for a few moments.
Merry was extremely tired himself, having cared for Frodo for well over 48 hours without any sleep. He sat down on a stool nearby, yawning himself. She looks up at the drawings on the wall then down at the small hobbit. Once he is asleep, as best as he can be she looked to Lilian. "I'm sorry ma'am…that you had to be drawn into this. He's a special one…."
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CHAPTER 23 -- The Shire 3001 -- "Alone"
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It was unusually chill for autumn. . .and inside Bag End, Frodo's room was heated by a blazing fire in the hearth, though even this seemed at times insufficient to comfort the young heir, who shivered as chills wracked his small body. He tossed restlessly in his bed, moaning, soaked with perspiration: an icy sweat drenched his burning brow, and he looked pale. . .deathly pale, despite the eerie flush of hectic pink across his high cheekbones. He had slept a bit, with Merry's coaxing, but he seemed miserable, and with good reason. . .he seemed very ill indeed, and had thrown up repeatedly, too sick at his stomach even to keep down medicine or cooling drink; in addition, his breathing seemed difficult and quick.
He begged for Gailethil. . .but she did not come, and there was no answer to his pleas.
He began to ask for Bilbo, but remembered. . .and began to weep, as he felt horribly alone.
And by now, afternoon of the third day after the Party, he found that he had never felt so alone. . .not even when his parents died, for then he had Bilbo to come, and Gailethil. . .and then his auntie. . .and now there was no one. . .no one save his younger cousins, who did not understand. . . .
Weakly he turned in bed, feeling as if he might be on the verge of being sick again, he tries not to cough for fear of provoking a bout of vomiting. He felt at once cold and hot, and utterly miserable. . .where was Merry? He wanted something to drink. . .and a cloth for his head. . .and another blanket. . .but most of all, someone. . .someone with him, to hold his hand and stroke his hair. . . .
Where was Gailethil?
With Glorfindel, no doubt, he thought bitterly, burying his face in the pillows.
There was a movement by the door and Merry came in quickly with some juice and fresh cloths. "Frodo." he set the juice down and looked down at his older cousin in concern. He'd never seen him like this before, not really. Once or twice when he was a small child and Frodo was staying at Brandy Hall.
"Frodo, I've got some cool juice here, like you wanted." He sat down on the edge of the bed and wondered where Angeline was, but knew it took time to get from Brandy Hall to Hobbiton. He hoped she hurried.
Frodo had not spoken much, but the look in his eyes whenever he opened them spoke volumes. His cousin looked like he lost everything. Merry changed the cloth on Frodo's forehead , worrying about the level of the fever. He pulled a blanket back up over the young master of Bag End that had been kicked off the bed earlier. "Frodo, tell me what's wrong?" he tried to help lift his cousin a little so he could drink from the glass.
Pippin at the door, glanced inside, "Merry..is he ready for something to eat?" the younger hobbit was for once in his life properly subdued. "Sam wants to know."
It was raining heavily outside, and Merry supposed that was what was taking Angeline a while. He had stressed urgency in his letter.
"No. . . ."
Moaning, Frodo opened his eyes and looked up at Merry through blue eyes half-clouded by delirium. That look of horrible and complete loss, however, has not dimmed: he seems devastated, and the expression in his features is one of despair.
"No. . .I feel sick. . .maybe a sip. . .of. . .of juice. . . . I w-want. . .Bilbo. . .please. . .o-or. . .Gailethil. . . . Oh, Merry. . . ."
He began to cry once more, his breath came too quickly, in short, tremulous gasps.
"Pippin, get me a fresh basin of water and tell Sam to put some ice in it." Merry directed immediately. He frowned at his cousin, Gailethil...where had he heard that name before? "Frodo...Bilbo's gone, I'm sorry...He's not going to come… Who is Gailethil?" He tried to get Frodo to drink a little of the juice, not too much, but just a bit. Its regular cool apple juice.
Pippin looked as though he was going to ask something but Merry ordered sharply, "Now!" and Pippin hurried off.
"Look here, Frodo, you've got to drink something, its not good for the fever. Aunty told me. Come on now." His arm is a steady one, but its a small one, and not someone who is about to cuddle him, but someone who is at least willing to comfort him.
"Gailethil. . .my best friend. . . ."
Weakly Frodo leant against Merry's arm and allowed his cousin to ease him up enough for some sips of juice. He dranks, but the effort is weak and half-hearted, and more than once he hesitated, as if unwilling to take even another taste. Tears still dampened his pale features, and he trembled as if frozen through, though he felt burning hot to the touch.
"Your friend..." Merry frowned slightly, he remembered the name and was trying to place the memory. He set the glass down and used a cloth to try and dry his cousin's face, but there's no water yet. "Pippin! Hurry up with that water." Merry called out to the hall. "Where can I find this...Gailethil? Can I get her for you?"
There were voices outside, Sam was speaking with someone in the hallway, a feminine voice. Then there was a flurry of activity in the Kitchen and Pippin entered the room with a local healer, he was carrying a big basin of water with ice in it and a lot of towels, looking quite flustered and confused by what is going on.
"Good afternoon, Master Brandybuck. . .how is Master Baggins?"
The voice was clear and crisp as a winter's morning, but also warm and reassuring: Lilian Goodbody, the head healer from Bywater, entered the room and carried a large basket which she promptly set aside and strode quickly to the bedside. Bending over Frodo, she motioned Pippin closer, straightening for a moment as she sought a smaller cloth in the stack of towels.
"I came as quickly as I could. Sam Gamgee tells me he's been in and out, and hasn't been able to keep anything down?"
Frodo whimpered weakly, and moaned. "Merry. . . ."
Merry smiled in relief at Lilian's entrance.
"Thank-goodness. He has not eaten a thing in three days, ma'am, not since the Party anyway. He took ill late that night, and doesn't seem to be wanting to get better. He keeps asking for Bilbo...and someone named Gailethil. Do you have any idea who he's talking about? I think he's a bit delirious, in truth."
Merry got out of the way so that Lilian can work. "There now, Cousin. Lilian's here, she's going to take a look at you. Mind her, will you?" Merry's tone was true "Master of the house". He seemed to have been directing this whole affair quite well and had taken control Bag End, managing to stall the throngs of Frodo's nosy relations.
Pippin bobbed his head, and set down the basin. He brushed his masses of curls out of his eyes and peered curiously at his bedridden cousin. "Is he going to be okay?" he asked worriedly. "He hasn't eaten anything a'tall. It isn't natural. He can't live much longer without anything to eat, can he?" The younger hobbit's main concern of course was the fact that his older cousin wasn't eating. As far as Pippin's was concerned, not being able to eat might as well be the kiss of death.
Lilian smiled kindly and found the washcloth. She set it in the basin of chilled water before she began to examine Frodo, undressing him as she worked.
"He can, Master Took, I assure you. . .it is not good to go without eating, especially not so long as he has now, but he will not die from it. We do need to get him eating again, but it's most important of all that we find out what's the matter and try to make that better. If he doesn't wish to get well, then he won't, more likely than not."
Frodo moaned, and she shushed him soothingly as she laid a cool hand gently against his forehead. "We'll have to get the fever down at once, though. . .that's partly why he doesn't feel up to eating, and it would explain the delirium."
As she bent over Frodo, she wrung out the cloth and began to bathe his face and neck with careful strokes, her touch was light and practiced. "Master Baggins. . .I'm Lilian Goodbody, from the Healing House over at Bywater. Your cousins sent for me when you fell ill. Can you tell me whom it is you keep asking for. . .Gailethil? We'll help if we can, but we don't know what or whom that is, and until we know, we can't really do very much. . . ."
Frodo shook his head weakly. "Never. . .mind. . . ." he murmured through his tears.
Pippin nodded enthusiastically, happy that someone was here who knew what they were doing. From what he had heard of Lilian, he was quite sure she'll make everything alright again.
"Can I bring anything from the kitchen?" he asks, "Sam and I can make whatever you need. Between us we can make anything in the shire, I'll wager." he puffed up his chest a bit.
"My sister has been teaching me a lot of recipes for soups and broths and things, will that help? I don't much like them, but she insisted that I learn. Don't see the point, I don't get ill that often, and when I do…don't have to do anything anyway. What about to drink? is juice okay…or should he have something else? Gailethil…Hey Merry…isn't that the name that Aunt Emerald said you spelt when you were a kid? Funny that Frodo should mention it now. I remember how she was all on about how you were insisting that it meant something it didn't mean…what was it again? I don't remember exactly…" he scratches his head, "Anyway…what can we start doing in the kitchen, Ms Lilian? I sure would like to help…and…" Pippin paused for a breath.
"Pretty." Merry took that moment to interrupt Pippin before he could go off on another tangent. "That's what I told Mother." he looked down at Frodo curiously, trying to remember. "I was really young though…so I don't really remember much."
As she unfastened Frodo's nightshirt, Lilian folded back the covers and continued to sponge him down gently, her tone soothing as she spoke with him. "Master Baggins. . .I'm sorry we cannot help, but perhaps you can answer some questions for me so I can try and help you feel better. Your cousins are right here, and we won't leave you. How is your stomach feeling?"
As she spoke, she pressed lightly against his small belly. Pippin's question caught her attention, though she listened to Frodo's answer first.
Frodo shook his head. "Aches. . .all tight, and I feel sick. . .so sick. . . ."
Lilian nodded understandingly before she looked back up at Pippin. "Thank you, dear. . .if you could prepare some light broth, something very simple and nourishing, easy to keep down, that would be best. Apple juice, or grape or cranberry, will be fine for him. . .though cracked ice is best if there's an icehouse. . .otherwise, cool water in addition to the juice. . . . Don't bring the broth until I tell you, though. And ginger tea. . .he needs some good, strong ginger tea; we can dilute it with apple juice and a little honey. That will ease the chills and bring his fever down a bit, while helping the nausea."
She glanced over to Merry. "Has he had any upset lately? As I understand, Master Bilbo hasn't been seen, and left everything to young Master Frodo here. . .but that may account for it. If Bilbo was his closest family, he may be depressed. . .and that would be enough, in someone who was already falling ill, both to crush the spirit and to upset his stomach." She rubs the young hobbit's tummy with a feather-light touch, attempting to soothe him as she continues sponging him down with the cool cloth. "Is there anyone else he loves dearly. . .someone you might be able to send for, if no one can find his guardian?"
As Pippin obediently hurried off to the kitchen, eager to help out, Merry bit his lip, he hadn't wanted to build up Frodos hopes because he wasn't certain that Angeline could make it on account of her being pregnant and all.
"To tell you the truth ma'am. I sent for my mother's sister; Angeline Brandybuck. She took care of him when he was small, and told me to keep an eye on him here. I think she knew that Bilbo was leaving, Ma'am. I don't know of anyone else, though. She might though, she should be here sometime tonight...if they took the carriage...if she can make it. She's..." Merry turned a bit red. "Going to have a baby, so I did not know if she could come here."
Merry thought a bit more at her other question, his responses slow and careful. Unlike his cousin, Merry tended to think before he spoke. "Come to think of it...he did seem to have a nightmare the morning of the Party...he was crying when he woke up. I know...because I woke him up. He wouldn't tell me what it was about though. Could that be part of it? There's an ice-box in Bag-End, I'm sure Pip'll be able to bring something."
"Oh, dear. . .I can't imagine a much worse situation. . .poor poppet. . . . Yes, crushed ice would be good for him to eat, and yes, I suspect that could be part of it, though fevers often cause nightmares. More likely than not he was already ill and no one realised." She sighed and studied the ailing hobbit with concerned green eyes. "Let us hope Mrs. Brandybuck can come, and in the meantime we'll have to do the best we can: bring down the temperature with cool baths and compresses. . .keep a hot water-bottle against his stomach to ease the pain. . .ginger tea weakened with apple juice and honey to treat the symptoms and provide a tiny bit of nourishment until he can keep down broth and soup. . .and cracked ice, plenty of cracked ice and any sips of water or juice he can take to prevent dehydration. There shouldn't be any danger to Angeline if she comes: I suspect this illness is mostly due to exhaustion and grief, not to mention his constitution. But he is going to require a great deal of care, Master Brandybuck. . .and I cannot speak for the outcome."
Frodo seemed not to understand Merry's words. . .he moaned softly, wincing as he was touched, though Lilian's massaging and sponging seemed to ease him a tiny bit.
Merry's expression was grave, "I understand." as young as he was, the son of Saradoc Brandybuck had a good strong head on his shoulders and a way about things that made him easily much older than his years. Though he could laugh and cause pranks with the best of them, there was a seriousness about him that never failed to come forth when the time needed it.
He frowned slightly as he remembered some of his mother's words. "I do remember a little bit now, Maam. I don't know if this has anything to do with anything. But My mother said that I insisted I saw a pretty lady dancing with Frodo when I was a child. Could that have been this Gailethil he's talking about? My mother says Frodo's always been a bit fanciful, his imagination seemed to get her down a lot. " He glanced towards the hallway.
Surprisingly quiet, Pippin pattered in with a tray of ginger tea, crushed ice in a glass, and fresh apple juice, and a hot water bottle. He tried hard not to talk and looked as though Sam perhap told him to get in and out quick. He did seem to be bursting with questions though, and was doing a mighty fine job of restraining himself, considering his natural tendency. He took a deep breath and spoke only one sentence with great effort. "Sam says to say he's seen a carriage pulling up North Hill lane and is going to see if he can help." He smiled proudly at himself for managing to stop there.
Lilian smiled approvingly and reached up to pat Pippin's arm as she took the hot water-bottle, and wrapped it in a soft towel before laying it carefully against Frodo's small tummy, nodding to Merry. "Good! Thank you, Master Took."
To Merry, she pondered. "I don't know. . .he's also always been rather frail, to my understanding, and frequent fevers can do that, but if you think you know anything of her, then that might help: it could well be. Here now, help me get him out of his night-shirt. . .that'll do him no good; if he stays in it while it's damp from sweating, he'll get chilled, and moving him to change it as often as he needs is very bad for him; he needs rest."
As she bent over Frodo, she cooed softly. "There now, Master Baggins. . .there's some nice crushed ice for you once we get you all settled. . .all right? Ssssshh now, there's a good lad. . . ."
Frodo complied weakly and allowed Lilian to ease him up a bit. He sighed with relief as she lay the hot water-bottle against his aching stomach. "Want. . .Mamma. . . ." he murmured faintly, though, his blue eyes clouded with delirium.
Pippin beamed, though his face lost a bit of that brightness when he saw Frodo's condition. However, hearing the front door of Bag End open and Sam talking with someone he was easily distracted. and..he rushed out to help.
Merry helped Lilian with his cousin, his nimble hands of good assistance. "I don't know, ma'am." he shooks his head, "I've never met anyone named Gailethil. Its not really a hobbit name is it? Perhaps shes someone from one of Bilbo's tales?"
Pippin returned; and opened the door quickly, ushering Angeline intos the room. About three months pregnant, she's wrapped from head to foot and followed closely by her husband, who is in the process of unwrapping the various bits and pieces hurriedly. "He's in here, Aunty. Hurry...."
Once free from cloaks and blankets, the young ladyhobbit smiled warmly to Lilian, then approached the bed cautiously. "I'm so sorry it took us so long, Merry. We actually headed out -before- the party as Bilbo sent me a note too. I think he was concerned because the poor lad was sick a month before the party. We would have been here sooner but one of the carriage wheels had an accident and we had to replace it in Whitfurrows. Yours came to us on the road, would you believe. Frodo...Frodo dear. Hello there..." she smiled as brightly as she could for his sake as she came closer to the bed.
"Aunt Angeline. . . ."
The name escaped Frodo's lips as a weak cry. . .and he put out his arms, beginning to sob afresh. He had never been so glad to see anyone in all his life.
Lilian shrugged at the question, nodding gratefully as Merry assisted her, though she smiled with relief as Angeline entered.
"We're very glad you could come, ma'am. He needs someone he's close to just now: that will do more good for him than any medicine I can give. As I've assured Merry, there's no danger: he's a sensitive lad, and I suspect his condition has much to do with that." Since Frodo was out of his night-shirt, she carefully tucked the covers over him, deftly reached for the cup of crushed ice. She fished out a bit and put it to his lips even as he put out his arms for his aunt. "There now. . .just a taste of ice, Master Baggins. . .that's all. . . . It'll help you feel better. . . ."
Angeline nodded carefully, "Laradoc was a bit worried about that, he fusses, dear that he is." she took Merry's place by Frodo's bed, glancing about for a moment as though she might have been looking for someone. She does not take her time however to gather the weak little hobbit into her arms, "Oh, poor sweetie. I'm here...there now." she rubbed his back gently, "Let it all out. Its okay to cry...and do try and take some of that ice, sugar, you need it."
Laradoc and Pippin do leave the room, but Merry stayed on hand to help out if needed.
Her condition did not seem to hamper her much to hold Frodo close as she soothed him gently. "How did this happen?" she asked Lilian, then glanced to Merry, then back to the nurse. "How long has he been like this?"
Sobbing, her little charge clung to her, snuggling with relief as she cuddled him. Obediently he took the ice, though, and allows Lilian to slip a bit between his dry lips. He sucked on the bits of ice quietly as he nestles in his aunt's arms.
Lilian nodded to Merry. "Master Brandybuck can tell you more, I think, but he fell ill the night of the party, and hasn't been well since. To be frank, Mrs. Brandybuck, your nephew was probably already becoming ill, and the strain of Master Bilbo's. . .disappearance. . .was too much for him. The combination. . ."
She lowered her voice.
". . .may prove fatal. I'm afraid that what he needs most right now is a great deal of care: lots of love and attention, plenty of fluids, complete bed rest. . .it's important he be made as comfortable as possible. There are a few medicines I can give, but without the sort of nursing he needs, they will be of absolutely no use whatsoever. I can stay and assist in caring for him, but he needs to always have someone close to him. . .the finest care in the world cannot replace that."
Angeline clutched Frodo to her with a little tremor in her voice, "Oh Sweetie." She pulled back his damp hair with her warm fingers and cuddled him closely. With quick fingers, she arranges the hot water bottle back on his tummy. Clearly something else is troubled her as she looked about the room almost expectantly. "Has any medication at all been given to him? Did anyone give you anything yet Frodo?"
It seemed a bit odd that she would ask Frodo the same question, but she does none the less. She wrapped both arms around the lad, "Don't you fret, sweetie, I'm here. There's a good lad." she encouraged softly as Lilian pressed the ice crystals into his lips. "You need liquid."
"It doesn't matter," sniffled Frodo, sobbing. He shook his head at the question.
Lilian, still feeding him bits of ice as he will take them, replies. "He hasn't had anything from me, yet: Merry can speak for anything before, but I have some chamomile-peppermint syrup that should help him sleep and possibly bring the fever down a bit, perhaps calm him a little. We can try some ginger syrup as well, though the tea we have here would be better for him. I'm very reluctant to suppress that cough yet, though, until we see how his lungs are. . .and we can't tell that until he's through the worst of this. . . ."
Merry shook his head, "We tried...but he wouldn't keep it down, Aunty." he looked over at Lilian and nodded. "He hasn't really slept either. Not since he had that nightmare. I think that syrup would be a good idea." he helped Lilian when she needed it, quite a somber young lad at the moment.
"A nightmare? What happened sweetie?" Angeline began to understand more than the others. "Honey, why doesn't it matter? You need to get better. You want to don't you?" she stroked his cheek gently and motioned for a cool cloth. Merry handed it to her and she dabbed softly at the tears, washing them away gently. "You've come of age...and everything here is yours now. You've got a lot to look to and plan, Sweetie."
"Y-You have. . .Uncle L-Laradoc. . .and th-the baby," Frodo murmured, still sobbing piteously. "And B-Bilbo's gone away. . .and. . .auntie, S-Gailethil's gone. . . . It doesn't matter. . .I might as well be dead. . .there's nothing to plan. . .no reason. . . . I-I. . .I saw h-her. . .and h-he was there. . .and s-she was wearing that. . .b-bracelet. . . ."
He gulped back tears as he tries to continue talking despite his shortness of breath.
"She's. . .w-with him, or. . .m-maybe ill, or. . .or. . .d-dead. . . . I don't *want* to live. . .an-anymore. . . ."
Giving an anxious sigh,,Lilian motioned to Merry to hand her the basket, her green eyes dark as she listens.
Angeline tried to keep her expression soft, though clearly she's perturbed by this. She does not however, wonder who Gailethil is, in fact…she seemed to know exactly who Gailethil is. She used the cloth to clean his cheeks and dry his eyes. "Just because I am having a baby, Sweetie, does not mean I love you any less." and her words were warm and kind. "I know it might seem to be a lot of things, what you saw. Do you know for sure? I know that you love her sweetie, and whatever you saw hurt you. After all this time…after what she has done for you…are you going to give up without a fight? She may need you now, Frodo, if she is ill. You don't want to let her down, do you?" she nodded for Lilian to put a few more crystals into the weak hobbits mouth.
Merry watched, concern in his eyes, he was not entirely certain what to make of it, but since his Aunt seemed to know what was going on, he does not interfere or as any questions.
Lilian listened and frowned curiously, though she continued feeding the little hobbit bits of crushed ice. "Mrs. Brandybuck, if you know how we can find this person he wants, it would be best if we did so at once. . . ."
Still tearful, Frodo shook his head a little. "I d-don't, but. . .sh-she'd be better off. . .I-I'm not like her. . . ." He began to cough a little, and dropped against her shoulder once more: his forehead felt burning hot to the touch against her, even through her autumn dress.
Angeline took a small breath and rubbed his back as he coughs. "Is there something for his throat...we must bring down the fever." she ran her fingers through his damp curls, putting the cloth to his head.. "Gailethil is..." she glanced over at Merry who stepped aside but was ready to help if needed. "It is a little difficult to explain...Gailethil is not here, and she cannot come here...unless Frodo is ill...and she's not here now...so I'm not sure."
She sighed, "Gailethil is his..." she smiled a little, "Well, Bilbo and I like to think of her as his intended, but we don't want to jump to conclusions just yet and were letting the little ones decide for themselves when the time was right and if everything...worked out. She's not a Hobbit, ma'am. Gailethil is an elf. She lives in Rivendell. She..." she strovet to explain. "She's seen to him since he was a small lad. Since he lost his parents. Like a good fairy, if you remember the old legends. She can't be sent for. She comes. But...I don't know what to do...she's not here. Usually she is. And from what I gather from the little one's vision...she might be in trouble and that is why he is so upset. You have to understand...she was with him since he lost his mama."
She looked down to the small bundle in her arms. "Frodo, let Lilian give you something for your throat, please, Sweetie. "No...you're not like her...but she loves you. She might need you to be strong now. Can you do that for her, Frodo?"
If Lilian is utterly convinced of the family's insanity, she controlled her feelings well. Nonetheless, she gave Angeline a curious look, rather dubious and shook her head.
"I. . .believe you, Mrs. Brandybuck, difficult though it is for me to do so. . .but whatever you say. . . . And that would certainly explain it. If you can keep trying to calm him. . .the best will be just to get Master Brandybuck to hand you cool cloths well wrung out and to bathe him. . .I'll get some medicine for him if you can manage with that."
She rose and goes to the basket, searching for a particular bottle.
Frodo moaned and continued to cry softly, shaking his head and burying it into his aunt's shoulder, the back-rubbing apparently was the only thing that kept him at all calm at that moment.
Merry looked quite stunned by the revelation. "Its true! I saw her...then...when I was a child." he gazed at Lilian. "She -was- with him. It was an elf I saw...!" he helps Angeline with the cool cloths instantly as the young mother soothed his cousin.
"There now, sweetie. I'm sure she'll be alright and there will be a good explanation for everything. You just let it all out....its okay to cry m'dear, its okay to cry." Angeline dabbed the cloth against his cheeks and back and wiped at the sweat and tears.
Her reassurances seemed to console him a little, but he continues to cry and clung to her almost desperately. Bit by bit, his sobs seemed to ease, and he calmed, her touch and the cool bathing soothing him.
As she retrieved the bottle, Lilian returned to the bed and selected a clean spoon from the bedside table. She nodded to Angeline, her voice low.
"We'll need to get him to take two spoonfuls of this if possible. . . ."
Angeline was patient with the little one and let him cry as he might. She dried his tears with the cool cloth and held him close to her. "I think he might be able to manage that…perhaps with a bit of water first. Frodo…it will help you sleep?"
"A-all right. . . ." He sniffled, and turned his head a little, allowing Lilian to hold a cup to his lips and coax a few sips of iced water into him before she administered the medicine. He took the medicine simply and without complaint, giving in as he clung to his aunt. "Wh-when will y-you be. . .leaving. . .a-again?" he added fretfully, still on the verge of returning tears.
Merry had never before seen his cousin quite so miserable, he sighed a little, wishing there was more that he could do. Angeline clicked her tongue, "We'll be staying for a while, my pet. Don't you worry. I think perhaps we might…get a letter out to Rivendell. Laradoc knows where to take it. I don't know if it will help, but at least we might know what is going on. Do you want to write her a letter, Frodo? In the morning?" she stroked his curls gently and rocked him softly.
He nodded weakly and snuggled against her.
"Please. . .I. . .I'd like that. . .very m-much. . . . Please. . .please d-don't leave me. . . ."
His eyes closed and his voice grows drowsy as he replies.
"Mmm-hmm. . .if you say so. . .auntie. . .I'll. . .try. . . . Just. . .not. . .hungry. . . ."
And as he grew drowsy she fluffed the pillows behind him and rocked him gently until he finally fell asleep., humming a little tune. Once he is, she smiled gently down at him and touched his cheek watching him for a few moments.
Merry was extremely tired himself, having cared for Frodo for well over 48 hours without any sleep. He sat down on a stool nearby, yawning himself. She looks up at the drawings on the wall then down at the small hobbit. Once he is asleep, as best as he can be she looked to Lilian. "I'm sorry ma'am…that you had to be drawn into this. He's a special one…."
* * *