Chapter 7
A bit of comfort
After the doctor left, Bilbo went to cook a small meal for himself, Drogo and Primula and put a pot of ginger tea on the stove for Frodo. This was the first time the old hobbit had an ill hobbit-child in his home and he was lost for what to do. He tried to hold back tears, when he heard a small cry from Frodo, but eventually they began rolling down his cheeks anyway. It was at that moment that Bilbo decided to go outside for a smoke- he desperately needed to relax. So he turned the meal on low before grabbing his pipe and going to stand on the doorstep. The sky, though now pitch black, was clear and the full moon shone brightly above. Bilbo watched as he blew thin smoke rings and let out a sigh.
Unfortunately, the old hobbit became lost in thought and almost completely forgot about the meal. It wasn't until he heard Primula's shriek from the kitchen when he remembered, and he dashed inside. She was waving smoke around with a towel and heading towards the oven, coughing. "Primula!" Bilbo called in a panic as he grabbed the overflowing pot from the stove, carrying it over to the sink. Primula opened the oven and pulled out the pan that contained three roast chicken breasts that had been burnt to a crisp. "Oh.blast." Bilbo cursed as he stomped his foot on the ground. "I should have been more cautious.lost in thought for a bit there. Are you all right?"
Primula nodded as she coughed once again on the thick smoke billowing from the oven door.
"I'm all right. Good thing Drogo smelled something burning.dear Frodo began sneezing and we had a feeling." she took a deep breath, wiping a hand against her sweaty forehead.
"Is Frodo asleep now?" asked Bilbo once the kitchen had cleared up a bit.
She nodded. "He was sleep-sneezing." She peered into the teakettle and smiled. "At least the tea is all right. Not much that can ruin that."
"I'm sorry about dinner.I wanted to at least feed the three of us. You and Drogo couldn't possibly go on without food for more than a day.and even that is unnatural for a hobbit!" Bilbo laughed. "So we'll have to make do with bread, cheese and fruit for now."
Primula chuckled as well. "That is perfectly all right." She insisted.
"Go on and sit with your son.I'll take care of supper. And I have to clean up this mess.it was my doing, though you rescued it." He winked at her and she headed out of the kitchen. Grumbling, Bilbo washed the dirty dishes after discuarding the ruined food and put them away. Then he made a tray of seed cakes, cheese, apples, and poured four coups of tea. "There we are." He said to himself, lifting the tray and carrying it into Frodo's bedroom. The little lad lay in bed just as Primula had described though his little nose was running a bit and his cheeks were tinged pink with fever. "Drogo."
Drogo looked up and accepted his plate and Primula accepted hers. "So I take it supper didn't go quite as planned." Drogo laughed as he took a bite of the seed cake.
Bilbo set the tray down before taking his seat and nodded. "I nearly burnt down the kitchen.my stupid forgetfulness. An unfortunate trait that comes with being elderly."
Frodo let out a soft moan and turned his head, causing silence in the room. "Speaking of Frodo.Bilbo.could I borrow some parchment? I must scribble a letter to Esmerelda. I meant to do it earlier, but I."
"Forgot?" Bilbo and Drogo answered in unison. She glared at them but it was only in play.
"Very funny." She snipped.
"Of course.I have some in my study. Half a moment." He stood and went out of the room, muttering something about "What strange relatives I have."
Primula laughed. "Honestly.that Bilbo IS quite the pistol."
"Well.they say he's never been the same since he went on that grand adventure," Drogo replied thoughtfully. "Rich and crazy all in one row."
Bilbo came back with a pad and a pen and handed both things to Primula, who immediately began writing. Bilbo pulled his chair up so that he was sitting right by Frodo's head and stroked the damp, dark curls. "Let us pray that he does not go through another fever fit again." The old hobbit told Frodo's parents.
Primula glanced up from her writing and looked over at her son, whose brow had crinkled in pain. "I hope he doesn't either. That was just dreadful.he didn't even recognize me." She signed her name at the end of the letter and then tore the piece of paper off of the pad, folding it up. "Another favor, Bilbo. Do you have an envelope?"
Bilbo nodded. "Of course." He left the room again, taking the pad and pen. When he got into the corridor, he broke down, and leaned against the wall sobbing quietly. He couldn't let Primula or Drogo see him like this.but he couldn't bear to see his little nephew suffer so terribly. "Oh Frodo." he whispered as his shoulders shook. He prayed silently to anyone who would listen.
After the doctor left, Bilbo went to cook a small meal for himself, Drogo and Primula and put a pot of ginger tea on the stove for Frodo. This was the first time the old hobbit had an ill hobbit-child in his home and he was lost for what to do. He tried to hold back tears, when he heard a small cry from Frodo, but eventually they began rolling down his cheeks anyway. It was at that moment that Bilbo decided to go outside for a smoke- he desperately needed to relax. So he turned the meal on low before grabbing his pipe and going to stand on the doorstep. The sky, though now pitch black, was clear and the full moon shone brightly above. Bilbo watched as he blew thin smoke rings and let out a sigh.
Unfortunately, the old hobbit became lost in thought and almost completely forgot about the meal. It wasn't until he heard Primula's shriek from the kitchen when he remembered, and he dashed inside. She was waving smoke around with a towel and heading towards the oven, coughing. "Primula!" Bilbo called in a panic as he grabbed the overflowing pot from the stove, carrying it over to the sink. Primula opened the oven and pulled out the pan that contained three roast chicken breasts that had been burnt to a crisp. "Oh.blast." Bilbo cursed as he stomped his foot on the ground. "I should have been more cautious.lost in thought for a bit there. Are you all right?"
Primula nodded as she coughed once again on the thick smoke billowing from the oven door.
"I'm all right. Good thing Drogo smelled something burning.dear Frodo began sneezing and we had a feeling." she took a deep breath, wiping a hand against her sweaty forehead.
"Is Frodo asleep now?" asked Bilbo once the kitchen had cleared up a bit.
She nodded. "He was sleep-sneezing." She peered into the teakettle and smiled. "At least the tea is all right. Not much that can ruin that."
"I'm sorry about dinner.I wanted to at least feed the three of us. You and Drogo couldn't possibly go on without food for more than a day.and even that is unnatural for a hobbit!" Bilbo laughed. "So we'll have to make do with bread, cheese and fruit for now."
Primula chuckled as well. "That is perfectly all right." She insisted.
"Go on and sit with your son.I'll take care of supper. And I have to clean up this mess.it was my doing, though you rescued it." He winked at her and she headed out of the kitchen. Grumbling, Bilbo washed the dirty dishes after discuarding the ruined food and put them away. Then he made a tray of seed cakes, cheese, apples, and poured four coups of tea. "There we are." He said to himself, lifting the tray and carrying it into Frodo's bedroom. The little lad lay in bed just as Primula had described though his little nose was running a bit and his cheeks were tinged pink with fever. "Drogo."
Drogo looked up and accepted his plate and Primula accepted hers. "So I take it supper didn't go quite as planned." Drogo laughed as he took a bite of the seed cake.
Bilbo set the tray down before taking his seat and nodded. "I nearly burnt down the kitchen.my stupid forgetfulness. An unfortunate trait that comes with being elderly."
Frodo let out a soft moan and turned his head, causing silence in the room. "Speaking of Frodo.Bilbo.could I borrow some parchment? I must scribble a letter to Esmerelda. I meant to do it earlier, but I."
"Forgot?" Bilbo and Drogo answered in unison. She glared at them but it was only in play.
"Very funny." She snipped.
"Of course.I have some in my study. Half a moment." He stood and went out of the room, muttering something about "What strange relatives I have."
Primula laughed. "Honestly.that Bilbo IS quite the pistol."
"Well.they say he's never been the same since he went on that grand adventure," Drogo replied thoughtfully. "Rich and crazy all in one row."
Bilbo came back with a pad and a pen and handed both things to Primula, who immediately began writing. Bilbo pulled his chair up so that he was sitting right by Frodo's head and stroked the damp, dark curls. "Let us pray that he does not go through another fever fit again." The old hobbit told Frodo's parents.
Primula glanced up from her writing and looked over at her son, whose brow had crinkled in pain. "I hope he doesn't either. That was just dreadful.he didn't even recognize me." She signed her name at the end of the letter and then tore the piece of paper off of the pad, folding it up. "Another favor, Bilbo. Do you have an envelope?"
Bilbo nodded. "Of course." He left the room again, taking the pad and pen. When he got into the corridor, he broke down, and leaned against the wall sobbing quietly. He couldn't let Primula or Drogo see him like this.but he couldn't bear to see his little nephew suffer so terribly. "Oh Frodo." he whispered as his shoulders shook. He prayed silently to anyone who would listen.