Author Notes : shirebound – yes, food is indeed the universal cure ^_^ Just ask any Italian ! And as for Italian grandmothers – well, I'll never starve, anyway. Amanda – hi, girl ! Nice to hear from you again ! No storytime in this chapter – not officially, anyway. tiggivon – ugh, I know. And being in pain – when I broke my leg, just thinking about food was too much. Too much pain and too many narcotics just – ugh. Poor Sam ! I'll take care of him, though. Tigrin – hey, I read your fic (and reviewed, of course) ! It was great ! All of you people who read this reviewers' section, go check it out ! Yeah, they sort of share the illness through their connection. *sniff* Poor boys… IloveSam – yeah, I'm evil. ^_^ I don't want them to get better so fast either, 'cause I just want to keep writing and writing and… anywho. ^_^ Mistress-Samwise – I fully intend to read your stories and give you long reviews ! ^_^ Starting tomorrow, I promise. TK – ooo, sorry about your headache. O_O Icky. I hope you're feeling better now ! *hands you an aspirin and a cookie* When in doubt, eat chocolate, say I. Coby Dick's Gurl – awesome nick, for starters ^_^ Secondly, thanks for reading ! Thirdly, silver = laughter/amusement. Okay ? Okay. Marz – hi to you too ! Writing happily, I assure you. ~_^ Glad you like the story so much ! HappyBunny – wow. That starvation thing sounds awful. Really hope you're okay now ! Here, have a cookie just in case. *hands you cookie* And the best for last - *drumroll, please* - Butterfly ! Da-dum ! Hey, girl ! Can't wait to hear from you, will write soon, I promise ^_^ Love you ! So. Onto the actual story…
« Can we see him ? » Sam's four older siblings asked in unison. Bilbo raised his brows at the coincidence and looked at them strangely. Odd, he thought, and shook his head.
« Sorry, » he said, « but they really do need their rest. »
« But – » Daisy began.
« No buts, lass, » said Hamfast. « If Master Bilbo says no, then no. »
« But you said we could see him, Mum, » Daisy said to her mother, frustrated. Bell sighed.
« Yes, I did, daughter. And you can when they're feeling more up to it, but not now. »
« Why not ? » asked May. Their brothers were watching all this with something between anticipation and amusement.
« They're headed for a thorough grounding, both of 'em, » whispered Halfred. Hamson nodded and hid a smile.
« Bullheaded, they are, » he whispered back. « Obvious we're not goin' to see him today. Why push the matter ? » They shook their heads and continued watching.
« Because they're sick, lass, » said Bell, looking exasperated. « I told you. They're sick an' they need to rest. »
« Master Bilbo – » the sisters appealed, but Bilbo held up his hands.
« I'm sorry, girls your mother's right. They need to rest and that's all there is to it. You can go see your brother later. » They both looked extremely disappointed, but as it was Bilbo's house, his word was law. They weren't going to see their brother today. With a heavy sigh, they turned back to the dishes. Bilbo sat down at the table and took Marigold from Hamson, bouncing her on his knee. She giggled and began playing with his pocketwatch. Tousling her curls, he looked to the other adults.
« Hamfast, I hate to steal your wife away from you, but if it's not too much to ask, could you stay here for today, Bell? » he asked. « As we've said, they're both sick – you know how high their fevers are, and you know better than I how high they might get. Bronchitis they have I'm hoping to keep it from turning into pneumonia. I'm not a healer, I don't pretend to have any expertise, but you learned from your sister, Bell, and whatever skills she taught you would be immensely appreciated. » Bell and Hamfast looked at eachother and made a silent decision.
« As long as you need me, sir, » she said.
« An' if there's anything else we can do, don't hesitate to ask it, sir, » said Hamfast. Bilbo was tremendously relieved.
« Thank you, both of you, » he said. « I'm so grateful – I really have no idea how to take care of them. I'd probably end up making it worse. » He said it with a light laugh, but he meant it.
« Oh, that's not true, sir, » said Bell. « But I'll do what I can to help. »
« As for the rest of us, » said Hamfast, standing, « we'll be off home, now. Come along, children ! » he said. Bilbo handed Marigold back to her brother and stood as well.
« I can't tell you how much I appreciate this – » he began, shaking Hamfast's hand. The gardener smiled, a bit bemused.
« No trouble, sir, no trouble. We love Frodo like a son, an' Samwise is our son. We'd take care of them, regardless. » Bilbo smiled back.
« Well, still – thank you. » The children had gone out to the front hall and put on their cloaks, and the adults joined them. Bell kissed her husband goodbye, and then each of her children. She and Bilbo bid them farewell, promising to fetch them if things took a turn – for better or worse.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
Frodo became aware of a terrible ache in his head as he returned slowly to consciousness a few hours later, and a strange, rumbling feeling in his chest. He yawned, waking up, and the rumbling surged up his chest and caught him at the throat. He began to cough, and cough, and cough, and whatever it was that was caught in his throat only seemed to grow worse with the coughing. Air simply could not be had, and he felt like he was breathing through a straw.
Bell, who had been talking with Bilbo in the living room, paused suddenly and looked to the hallway.
« What is it ? » asked Bilbo. She got up and seemed to be listening to something.
« The boys. Frodo, I think. He's coughing fit to burst, » she said, walking swiftly from the room. Bilbo stood and followed her.
Air. Need – air. But try as he might, Frodo couldn't dislodge the blockage in his throat. His lungs began to burn and he was starting to see little bursts of color before his eyes when Bell came in. In one step, she was at his side, and flipping him over onto his stomach, she delivered three swift, sharp blows to the small of his back with the heel of her hand. Frodo choked, and she held out her handkerchief for him to spit in, frowning at the dark gold color of the mucus. Dark color means a bad infection, she remembered her sister saying. She shook her head and threw the handkerchief away before returning to Frodo, who lay panting on the bed.
« Is tha alright, lad ? » she asked softly, slipping back into her childhood accent. Frodo nodded, still panting, and she turned him so he lay on his back again. « Here, lad, sit up now – there's a good boy… Breathe deeply, Frodo, deeply – yes, like that… » Slowly, his heart rate returned to normal, and he could breathe again. The coughing had trebled the pain in his head, and he felt like he had torn his throat out. Oh, Father, he thought miserably. Make it go away…
« I'll make that chamomile tea again, » said Bell. « That should help some. And some more of those cold cloths, too. Your fever's up again.»
« I'll take care of those, » said Bilbo, and they made to leave the room.
Sam, remarkably, had slept through all of this, and though Bell and Bilbo were relieved, Frodo was suddenly uneasy. I'm awake, why hasn't he woken up ? A vague anxiety began to cloud his thoughts.
« Wait, » he called hoarsely as the adults walked out the door. Bilbo stuck his head back in and frowned at him.
« Is something wrong ? » he asked, worried. Bell came back in and they both looked at him questioningly.
« What about Sam ? » Frodo asked, his gaze flicking down to the small boy who slept on, curled against him. He focused his thought on Sam's and found there a pounding pulse of red and black smothered under a deep grey mist, but still far too vivid for Frodo's comfort. Some of the pain was his own, he realized, shared by this bond of theirs. But most of it was Sam's, and that wasn't good. He looked to the adults for help.
« What about him ? » Bilbo asked. « He's alright just let him sleep. »
« But he's not alright, » said Frodo. He's not. He's worse than I am. Oh, why can't you just talk like this ? My throat hurts too much to talk aloud. Bell seemed to understand, and came back over to the bed. Bending over, she touched her son's forehead. She looked up at Frodo and raised her brows questioningly.
« He's fine, » she said. Frodo shook his head, and wished he hadn't. Ouch, he thought.
« He's sick, » he whispered. Bell shook her head.
« No worse than you, » she said. « Even a little better. Your fever's risen, but his hasn't. He's alright, lad, trust me. »
I *can't* trust you, Frodo wanted to say, but talking hurt his throat and he didn't want to insult Bell. He just gave her a skeptical look. She smiled, a bit amused at his doubt, and she and Bilbo walked from the room.
« Are you sure he's alright ? » Frodo heard Bilbo ask her, as they stood in the hallway outside the closed door. « He is sick, and what with his ankle… »
« He's fine, Master, no question, » he heard Bell reassure him. « He's feverish, but he hasn't got a fever like Frodo's, an' I haven't heard him cough like Frodo, either. »
« But he was coughing last night, » Bilbo said.
« That's so, but maybe he just caught a passing chill, » said Bell reasonably. Frodo heard Bilbo sigh.
« I suppose so, » he said. « We can hope so, anyway. » Their footsteps moved outside his door and down the hallway until he couldn't hear them anymore. Passing chill, he thought sarcastically. If only ! He's got what I've got, I know it. But still – his fever's not up, and mine is… He laid his hand gently on the child's forehead, and frowned when he did, indeed, feel it to be cooler than his own. No, this isn't right. The vague anxiety grew in him, but took no shape. He was worried, very worried, but he couldn't say why for the life of him. He's sick, he's sick, I *know* it. Something's wrong, something's very wrong. But what ? Bell came with her chamomile tea and Bilbo with some more cold, wet, handtowels, and between the two of them tending him and his thoughts in an anxious whirl, he fell asleep again. Something's wrong, he thought again, before the grey mist overtook him.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
In the late afternoon, Frodo woke again to the sound of the rain pounding against his window. He felt a little better – his head was clearer and his breath came easier, though he was dizzy when he tried to sit up. He saw a bundle of knitting on the chair by the fireplace, and frowned at it, confused. His confusion cleared, however, when Bell entered the room. She came in silently and closed the door very quietly behind her, thinking the boys to be asleep. She started a little when she turned and saw Frodo's eyes open.
« Afternoon, lad, » she greeted him softly.
« Mistress, » he said, returning the greeting.
« And how does thee feel, then ? » she asked.
« Better, » said Frodo, and again tried to sit up. She came over and helped him, leaning him back against the pillows. He closed his eyes again for a moment and Bell smiled at him fondly. Reaching out, she checked his temperature.
« Ah, that's why, » she said with satisfaction. « Your temperature's down. »
« Oh, » said Frodo, too tired to really care. His head didn't hurt so much, and that was all that mattered to him. « What time is it ? » he asked.
« Round about four-thirty, » she said. « You've been sleeping for hours. Only woke once, coughing. »
« Did I ? » asked Frodo. He didn't remember any waking between this morning and this afternoon.
« Aye, » said Bell, nodding. « Towards noon. It wasn't so bad as this morning, though, an' you didn't cough anything up. You just coughed for a while, an' went back to sleep. »
« Oh, » Frodo said again. They sat in silence a few moments, till he asked, « What about Sam ? »
« He woke twice, to ask for water, » she said. « An' a third time when we had to change his bandages. »
« Change them ? » Frodo asked. And some water would ease my throat a little, he thought. « Could I have some water ? » he asked. Bell stood and poured some into a glass from a pitcher on his nightstand. She explained as he was drinking it that Sam had bled all through his bandages and onto the sheets while he slept.
« We'll change those sheets tonight, » she assured him. « Just move you two into the adjoining room for a bit, an' we'll strip 'em off. » Frodo nodded.
« Is he alright ? » he asked. Bell hesitated.
« He's mostly alright, » she said. « The blood was just blood, and the wound still looked pretty clean. We washed it in scalding water, just to be sure, but it doesn't look like he has any infection. And if he did, his fever would be much higher, so I don't think he does. » Frodo nodded again, slowly. Infection. I hadn't thought of that. He was about to ask her what they would do if the wound was infected when he felt Sam waking beside him. The grey mist around the child's thoughts dissolved, leaving a storm of red and black before Frodo's mind's eye.
Sam stirred and opened his eyes, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning to Frodo. Hey, little one, Frodo said gently. How are you ? ~ I hurt, Sam answered tiredly.
« Hey, baby, » Bell said, coming to his side. « Do you want some water ? » Sam nodded, wincing a little at the pain that shot through his head. Frodo pulled him into a sitting position, with his head resting on Frodo's shoulder, and Bell handed him a glass of water. He took it and drank, slowly for the pain in his throat. When the glass was empty, Frodo took it from him and handed it back to Bell. « How do you feel ? » Bell asked her son.
« My ankle hurts, » he whispered. « Lots. » Bell bit her lip.
« I'm sorry, baby, » she said. « I'll make you some more of that tea with the poppy-tincture. » Sam nodded and she left the room. Frodo cradled him on his shoulder and they sat in silence, resting until she came back. He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, enjoying, dimly through his discomfort, its light and silky feel. I like your hair, he thought sleepily, and was rewarded with a very faint flash of green.
Bell returned, bearing a tray with an enormous mug of tea on it.
« Is he going to have to drink it all ? » asked Frodo, much surprised. Bell laughed.
« Not all at once, if that's what you mean, » she said. « Half'll take the edge off the pain right fast, an' make life bearable again. The rest is for him to work on later – hot or cold, it'll do the same job. Here you go, Sam, » she said, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the mug to his lips. With Frodo's help, he sat up a little more, and drank. Ick, he thought at the bitter taste, and Frodo smiled. It's good for you, he thought with mock-sterness. Well it still tastes awful, Sam answered, but already the red and black was dimming, fading under the soft, pale cloud the poppy-juice induced. By the time Sam had finished the required half-mug, he was feeling better. He lay back against Frodo's shoulder, and in a few minutes, the tea had taken its full effect. His thoughts were a little thick, but he felt much, much better, and thought so to Frodo. Bell smiled at them both.
« Are you feeling well enough for a little soup ? » she asked. « Just something to keep your strength up. » Sam and Frodo looked at eachother, considering.
« A little, » they decided in unison, and Bell laughed.
« Alright, then, » she said. « I've had some warming for you I'll bring it here. »
« Mistress ? » asked Frodo. « Where's Bilbo ? »
« Reading in the living room, » she answered. « Do you want to see him ? »
« It would be nice, » Frodo said, feeling a bit childish.
« I'll fetch him, » Bell said smiling, and left the room. She returned a few minutes later with another tray, this one holding two small mugs with spoons, and handed each of them a mug. It was a vegetable soup, filling, but not too rich, and they ate it quietly. Bilbo came in holding a stack of books, and Sam and Frodo looked up in surprise. He sat down in the fireplace chair, and, choosing a book, began to read to them. It was one of his many, many collections of Elvish legend, and Sam's green flash of delight made Frodo laugh. Bilbo smiled at them and continued reading. Frodo felt warm and loved and protected, and more part of a family than he had felt since his parents died, as he lay there in bed with his Elf-child leaning against him, eating soup and listening to stories while the rain poured down outside. Later, when they were finished, he wrapped his arms around Sam – already fast asleep – and slept, for the first time since the Accident, without any thought of his parents, and in perfect contentment.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: this doesn't count as storytime for our boys, don't worry. They'll get another chapter for that. ^_^