Author Notes: Hi, all! Sorry I didn't update sooner; I stayed up too late watching the "Terminator" movies (got to love Arnold ^_^). Mish – happy to receive them? Overjoyed! But they haven't received in this chapter, that'll come in the next one. Tigrin – I love the fanart! Thanks so much for drawing it for me! You're the coolest! Aww, poor Frodo. *kisses her picture of Elijah as Frodo* Actually, he's got bronchitis. So does Sam, but for the meantime, Sam is rather preoccupied with his ankle. IloveSam – yeah, the "oh, shut up" thing was – I thought – very realistic. People get annoyed, especially when they're reminded of things they don't want to think about. Our darling boys – well, they're rescued, but they still have to get home! So read on! shirebound – I, too, am majorly relieved that they're rescued. I was worrying myself for a while. Sorry about the swearing – I'm fully aware Tolkien never used curses in his writings. It just seemed a very teenage response to the situation. Sorry it bothered you, I won't do it again ^_^ BellaMonte – hi again! The 'bonds of illness' – yeah, I love that too. I think it's very sweet of them. Butterfly – tu es si mignon, tu sais? Je t'aime toujours! Mistress Samwise – ooooo, I want a flag like that! tiggivon – we are in total agreement ^_^ Alright, so Sam and Frodo have been rescued. Now they have to get home. Onward and upward, mes amis!
How far from home are we anyway ? Frodo asked Sam tiredly. They had made it down the hill without any incidents, and now began the long task of slogging through the mud and the rain to get back home.
'Bout a mile and a half. Maybe two miles, came the answer.
« Two miles ? » Frodo wailed, wincing again at the pain in his throat, which his screaming had ripped raw. Bilbo and Hamfast whirled round and looked at him, surprised.
« Two miles to what, lad ? » Bilbo asked.
« Home ? » asked Frodo. « It's two miles to home ? » Please, tell me it's less than that…
« Thereabouts, Master Frodo, » Hamfast replied. « Though if Samwise is starting to weigh on you – »
« No, that's alright, » Frodo said sharply, tightening his grip on his Elf-child. « I've got him. » The gardener raised his brows at Frodo's tone, but offered no protest. Seems Sam's happier with him, anyway. Frodo watched him warily for a moment, as if he would try to snatch Sam away, but nothing happened and the moment passed. They walked on.
Sam, how can it be *two miles* ? he whimpered mentally.
Sorry, Sam whispered. But it is. My dad can carry me, if that's what you want. A faint grey unhappiness surrounded the thought.
No that's *not* what I want ! Frodo said fiercely. All I want is to stay with you. Besides, I promised you a great big bed and storytime, so we can't be separated. I won't *let* them carry you.
But you're sick, Sam protested.
Yeah, well so are you. So you're not exactly in a position to tell me what to do, thought Frodo. Look, Sam – I just want to hold you. To make sure you're alright. And I'm afraid that if I let you go, they'll separate us, and then we won't see eachother for days and days. And after this afternoon, I want to see you always. Alright ? he asked, more gently after his sharpness. Sam turned his head and kissed Frodo on the neck. I'll take that as a yes, Frodo thought with a smile.
Bilbo and Hamfast were debating over whether to take the boys to Bag End, the Row, or each to his own home. « Bell's been waiting for me to bring him back, » Hamfast said. « I say we go to the Row. »
« Yes, well – there're more bandages and medical what-all at Bag End, » countered Bilbo. « Oh, I don't know. Let's just get there and then figure it out. »
« Well, sir, there's the Hill to climb between our home and yours. Wouldn't it make more sense to decide now, before we get there ? » argued the gardener.
« Why don't we just avoid this whole argument by taking our respective children to their respective homes ? » said Bilbo diplomatically. Hamfast agreed that it was an excellent idea, but Frodo had caught this last part of their discussion and spoke up.
« No ! » he said. They turned to him, surprised.
« For heaven's sake, Frodo, why not ? » asked Bilbo.
« I'm not leaving him, » said Frodo, pressing his cheek to the top of Sam's head and glaring at them both.
« Oh, come now, cousin – » Bilbo began, but Frodo cut him short.
« I said, I'm not leaving him. I'm not. I won't. » They could see that Frodo was fully prepared to be unreasonable about this, and being wet, weary, and very worried, they weren't in any mood to fight it out with him. They appealed to Samwise instead, reasoning that whatever he wanted, Frodo would agree to – and it was true. But Sam did not agree with them.
« I want to stay with Frodo, » he said, his young voice clear and his green eyes defiant.
« But Sam, your mother – » said Hamfast.
« No » answered Sam. His voice thickened as the pain returned, but he met his father's worried gaze steadily. « I want. To stay. With Frodo, » he repeated slowly, ready to be every bit as unreasonable as his best friend. Sam could be incredibly stubborn when he felt like it, and he was bracing himself to be stubborn now. Hamfast recognized that look and knew there was no arguing with it.
Had Sam been one of his other sons, he would not have hesitated to strike him and tell him what was what. Just once, mind you, and lightly – more a gesture of authority than an actual blow. Hamfast, unlike some fathers, had never beaten his children and never would. It's a cruel and stupid thing to do, he thought. An' I'll not have anyone – especially myself – thinkin' I'm cruel and stupid. Don't need to beat the bairns bloody to prove a point. Just slap 'em once and send 'em to their rooms. S' all they need, anyway. And had Frodo been carrying any of his other children, he would have held to that. But this was Sam, and Sam was different. Never in his darkest moods had he ever raised a hand against his youngest son, and he wasn't going to start now. If he wants it that much, then alright. We'll go to Bag End an' Bell can just meet us there. He sighed.
« Alright, son. If that's what you want, » he said. Sam nodded.
« S' what I want, » he mumbled, speaking with difficulty through the still-increasing pain. Laying quiet in Frodo's arms in the hollow, the pain had dulled to the blood-dark mist that surrounded his thoughts. But now, out in the cold, with the driving rain pounding down on his broken bones, being jolted with every step Frodo took, it came surging back in force. He laid his head on Frodo's shoulder and closed his eyes. Hey, little one, Frodo murmured. Not much further now. A weak flash of green met his comment. Don't lie, the child instructed, but with a hint of a smile. I'm not lying, Frodo protested. We've got about a mile to go, and that's not as far as two miles, so we *are* closer. Soon we'll be home and warm and dry and safe. ~ An' you'll read me stories, Sam said hopefully. Frodo grinned in spite of his discomfort. Yes. I'll read you stories.
« How much further ? » he asked the adults.
« 'Bout a mile, or three-quarters, » Hamfast answered. « Why ? »
« No reas- » Frodo stopped as a coughing fit took him, turning his face away from Sam so as not to cough on him. His slim shoulders shook and his cough sounded raw and wet. Amethyst lightning shot through his mind, and he felt Sam's arms tighten round him. You're sicker than you thought, the boy said anxiously. Oh, botheration, Samwise ! It's just a cough ! Frodo shot back, not angry so much as worried that Sam was right. An' the bruise on my leg is just a bruise, never mind the broken bones, Sam countered. Frodo glared down at Sam, who glared right back up at him. You're sick. An' you can say what you like about it, but you're sick. I'm just worried for you, he thought, his glare fading. He reached up and touched Frodo's cheek uncertainly. Frodo took his hand and held it. I know. And I'm sorry I got angry. It's just – well, whatever I catch – or have caught already – I could very well give to you. And I don't want to do that, he thought unhappily.
The adults had paused while Frodo coughed himself out, and were witness to this strange, silent exchange of thoughts. To their knowledge, nothing had been said, and yet a wide range of emotions crossed the boys faces. A strange intensity burned between them, and Bilbo and Hamfast looked at eachother, bemused.
« Come along, lads, » Bilbo said. « Frodo, you're alright now ? » Frodo nodded. Hmph. I doubt it. That cough sounded distinctly like the beginnings of bronchitis. I shouldn't wonder if Samwise has it, too. Well, it's not much further. Then we can get them warmed and dried and all sorted out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Half an hour later, they were still wading through the water, knee-deep in some places. The rain fell thick and fast as ever. At this rate, the roads'll be washed out for days, Hamfast thought. I hope this rain don't ruin my flowers. Flowers are fragile, and a heavy rain can crush them. Hamfast pictured a whole summer's work undone in a single afternoon, and cringed internally. Looking back to the boys, he saw Frodo stumble, and reached out quickly to catch him before he fell.
« Careful, now, young master, » he said.
« Thanks, » Frodo said wearily, looking down at Sam. His thoughts were now a constant pulse of red and black, shifting in varying brightness in Frodo's mind. Did I hurt you ? he asked. Never, Sam replied. I hurt anyway. Frodo's smile touched him in a flash of dark green. Now who's lying, little one ? I'm sorry. ~ It don't matter none. I hurt anyway, like I said. Frodo kissed the top of his head and walked on, wet, cold, and weary to the bone. When I get home I'm going to sleep for a hundred years, he thought. And a curse on the person who wakes me up ! A picture formed in his mind of himself, asleep in an enormous canopied bed, clad all in white and his brow bound with a thin fillet of silver an Elven prince, asleep. Are you doing that ? he asked. Sam nodded, and the motion sent a shiver of pain through him. The picture was covered in a mist of black, and Sam's fingers twisted the collar of Frodo's tunic so tightly they almost tore it.
Frodo thought a moment, and quickly formed a picture in his own mind : the two of them, warm and dry, in Frodo's bedroom at Bag End. They were sitting up in bed, Sam's head on Frodo's shoulder, and Frodo was reading him a book of Elvish legend while the rain poured outside and a fire crackled in the fireplace. Sam concentrated his whole thought on that image, and the pain slowly receded. Green flickered for a moment in Frodo's mind, and he breathed more easily.
« I'll run get Bell an' bring her up to the house, » Hamfast said suddenly. Frodo looked up, surprised, and even Sam opened his eyes. We're here ?
« We're home ? » Frodo asked. Bilbo turned to him.
« Not quite, my lad. But almost. We have about a quarter of a mile to go then we'll get you two out of this horrible rain, » he said.
« Quarter of a mile more or less ? » Frodo asked.
« Less, » said Bilbo. Frodo could have cheered for relief. We're almost there, we're almost there, he said triumphantly, flooding Sam's mind with brilliant green flashes. Sam clung to the flashes for the final, agonizing fifteen minutes. Bilbo was walking faster, so Frodo had to keep pace. The result was Sam's slim leg getting jolted and stabbing pains to his injured ankle. His ankle hurt so badly he had completely forgotten about his foot, where the rock was still embedded. Almost there, we're almost there, we're almost there, he repeated over and over.
They struggled up a slope and saw, to Frodo's everlasting joy, Bag End. It was still a few hundred yards off, but he had been starting to doubt that they would ever see it. The rain and the wet and the cold just seemed to go on forever, and to actually see a warm, dry home nearly brought Frodo to tears. Keeping his eyes firmly focused on the smial, he straightened his shoulders and walked as fast as he could. We're almost there, we're almost there, we're almost there, he and Sam chanted in harmony. Across the cobbled road, up to the front gate, over the flooded flagstone path – we're here !
~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: And we have yet to get to the great big bed and storytime. I think I'll throw in a few complications, huh? I just can't bear to give this story up! Review, people! Je vous aime!