Chapter 8
The Traveling Wizard
A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing! I love every one of them...they DEFINITELY help me write faster! :) I am not really sure how long this story will be...I wont even give an estimate because that'll probably be wrong. lol. Please keep R&R!
Once Bilbo recovered from his emotional breakdown, he made his way into the kitchen and headed for the pantry. What he didn't notice was an old wooden cart pulling up to the front of Bag-End, drawn by a single chesnut horse. "Blast." Bilbo growled as he opened his box of tealeaves to find that he was almost out out of rosemary.
"Having a bit of trouble, are you?"
Bilbo let out a yell and dropped the tea box to the floor and whirled around, nearly falling against the sink. A very tall old man with a long gray beard and bushy gray eyebrows stood in the kitchen doorway, a smile on his face. The old man was a wizard: Gandalf the Gray was his name, and he was known by almost everyone in the Shire as he had a particular love of halflings. "Good evening, Bilbo. I didn't mean to startle you." Gandalf chuckled once the hobbit took a deep breath and steadied himself.
"Dear me, Gandalf. I Do wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that." the old hobbit gasped. "Don't you ever warn people when you come?
The wizard gave the hobbit a look. "A wizard never comes when expected. Remember that in the future, Bilbo. So how are things?"
Bilbo picked up the tea box and set it on the counter. "Things could be better."
"Explain?"
"My nephew Frodo and his parents are staying with me for a bit, but the dear lad has fallen ill."
The wizard nodded. "I see. Well...I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I could do to help?"
Bilbo shook his head. "You could help me make a pot of tea."
"What are the lad's symptoms?"
"Sore throat, fever...the doctor's been by a few times but..."
"Now try and calm down, Bilbo." Gandalf comforted as he filled up the old iron teapot with water and set it on the stove. Bilbo poured a few ginger tea leaves into the water and then turned the stove on, stepping back. "How long has Frodo been sick?"
"For two nights now. He had a fever fit this morning...tried to run away from his mother and father."
Gandalf clucked his tongue. "Well...bring me too him and I'll see what may be done."
"Oh no," Bilbo laughed. "Not until this tea is ready. I burnt dinner because I got caught up in other things."
"Then you sit here and I'll go." Gandalf replied with a grin.
"But..."
"Never you mind...I know my around here."
"Oh..."
Gandalf headed out of the kitchen and into the corridor. He made his way to the room in which Frodo was staying and startled both Drogo and Primula. Primula let out a cry and immediately tried to protect her son as Gandalf moved towards them. "There is no need to be frightened. I am Gandalf...Gandalf the Gray. Perhaps Bilbo has told you about me?"
Drogo glanced the old wizard up and down. "Not that wizard!"
"The very same." Gandalf looked at the little hobbit in bed and smiled. "So this is the little imp, is it? What is his name again?"
"Frodo." said Primula in a squeaky voice. "What are you going to do? If you hurt him I'll...!" she snapped.
"I won't hurt a single hair on his head..."
"Primula."
"Primula...I promise. And you are?" Gandalf looked at Drogo.
"Drogo. Now I demand an explination. What are you doing here? Does Bilbo know?" he asked.
"Yes. Now calm down...the both of you, and move away from Frodo while I look him over."
"You're no doctor!" Drogo growled as he and his wife obeyed. Gandalf ignored them and went over to the little hobbit's bedside, placing a hand on the lad's forehead. "Very high fever. What have you been giving him?"
Drogo thought for a moment. "We tried a bit of boneset and sponge baths..."
"No change at all?"
"Not much from what we can tell." said Primula sadly. Eventually Bilbo came into the room, carrying a tray with five teacups and handed one to each of the adults, leaving one on the nightstand for Frodo.
"Any ideas, Gandalf?" he asked quietly.
The wizard shook his head. "We'll wait the night out and if he still does not feel well by morning then I will see if there is anything in my power that could heal him. Unnatural healing isn't always the best thing for a little hobbit, though."
Frodo moaned, opened his eyes and sat up. Everyone gasped and Gandalf chuckled, bending down so that he was eye-level. "So you're Frodo Baggins, are you?" he asked. Frodo just stared at him blankly through his fever-bright eyes. He muttered something incomprehensible before starting to slide out of bed again. Immediately Primula and Bilbo grabbed him and eased him back onto the bed, but Frodo did not struggle this time. "Never mind, Sam...too tired." Frodo whispered hoarsely once he lay back down again.
"Sam?" asked Primula. "Who on earth is Sam?"
Gandalf shook his head. "Not a clue." (Remember...Sam isn't born yet as Frodo is just ten. Merry really shouldn't be born yet either but *oops* lol...I didnt do any background age research). Finally, Gandalf ordered Drogo and Primula to bed, promsing that he would look after Frodo (Who to Bilbo's relief had passed out on the pillows again.). "You too, Bilbo. You don't want to get sick too you know. You and Frodo both worry so much about each other that..."
"I know, Gandalf. All right...good night, then." Bilbo left and the room grew quiet, only the sound of uneven breathing from an ill hobbit-child could be heard.
The Traveling Wizard
A/N: Thank you so much for reviewing! I love every one of them...they DEFINITELY help me write faster! :) I am not really sure how long this story will be...I wont even give an estimate because that'll probably be wrong. lol. Please keep R&R!
Once Bilbo recovered from his emotional breakdown, he made his way into the kitchen and headed for the pantry. What he didn't notice was an old wooden cart pulling up to the front of Bag-End, drawn by a single chesnut horse. "Blast." Bilbo growled as he opened his box of tealeaves to find that he was almost out out of rosemary.
"Having a bit of trouble, are you?"
Bilbo let out a yell and dropped the tea box to the floor and whirled around, nearly falling against the sink. A very tall old man with a long gray beard and bushy gray eyebrows stood in the kitchen doorway, a smile on his face. The old man was a wizard: Gandalf the Gray was his name, and he was known by almost everyone in the Shire as he had a particular love of halflings. "Good evening, Bilbo. I didn't mean to startle you." Gandalf chuckled once the hobbit took a deep breath and steadied himself.
"Dear me, Gandalf. I Do wish you wouldn't sneak up on me like that." the old hobbit gasped. "Don't you ever warn people when you come?
The wizard gave the hobbit a look. "A wizard never comes when expected. Remember that in the future, Bilbo. So how are things?"
Bilbo picked up the tea box and set it on the counter. "Things could be better."
"Explain?"
"My nephew Frodo and his parents are staying with me for a bit, but the dear lad has fallen ill."
The wizard nodded. "I see. Well...I'm sorry to hear that. Is there anything I could do to help?"
Bilbo shook his head. "You could help me make a pot of tea."
"What are the lad's symptoms?"
"Sore throat, fever...the doctor's been by a few times but..."
"Now try and calm down, Bilbo." Gandalf comforted as he filled up the old iron teapot with water and set it on the stove. Bilbo poured a few ginger tea leaves into the water and then turned the stove on, stepping back. "How long has Frodo been sick?"
"For two nights now. He had a fever fit this morning...tried to run away from his mother and father."
Gandalf clucked his tongue. "Well...bring me too him and I'll see what may be done."
"Oh no," Bilbo laughed. "Not until this tea is ready. I burnt dinner because I got caught up in other things."
"Then you sit here and I'll go." Gandalf replied with a grin.
"But..."
"Never you mind...I know my around here."
"Oh..."
Gandalf headed out of the kitchen and into the corridor. He made his way to the room in which Frodo was staying and startled both Drogo and Primula. Primula let out a cry and immediately tried to protect her son as Gandalf moved towards them. "There is no need to be frightened. I am Gandalf...Gandalf the Gray. Perhaps Bilbo has told you about me?"
Drogo glanced the old wizard up and down. "Not that wizard!"
"The very same." Gandalf looked at the little hobbit in bed and smiled. "So this is the little imp, is it? What is his name again?"
"Frodo." said Primula in a squeaky voice. "What are you going to do? If you hurt him I'll...!" she snapped.
"I won't hurt a single hair on his head..."
"Primula."
"Primula...I promise. And you are?" Gandalf looked at Drogo.
"Drogo. Now I demand an explination. What are you doing here? Does Bilbo know?" he asked.
"Yes. Now calm down...the both of you, and move away from Frodo while I look him over."
"You're no doctor!" Drogo growled as he and his wife obeyed. Gandalf ignored them and went over to the little hobbit's bedside, placing a hand on the lad's forehead. "Very high fever. What have you been giving him?"
Drogo thought for a moment. "We tried a bit of boneset and sponge baths..."
"No change at all?"
"Not much from what we can tell." said Primula sadly. Eventually Bilbo came into the room, carrying a tray with five teacups and handed one to each of the adults, leaving one on the nightstand for Frodo.
"Any ideas, Gandalf?" he asked quietly.
The wizard shook his head. "We'll wait the night out and if he still does not feel well by morning then I will see if there is anything in my power that could heal him. Unnatural healing isn't always the best thing for a little hobbit, though."
Frodo moaned, opened his eyes and sat up. Everyone gasped and Gandalf chuckled, bending down so that he was eye-level. "So you're Frodo Baggins, are you?" he asked. Frodo just stared at him blankly through his fever-bright eyes. He muttered something incomprehensible before starting to slide out of bed again. Immediately Primula and Bilbo grabbed him and eased him back onto the bed, but Frodo did not struggle this time. "Never mind, Sam...too tired." Frodo whispered hoarsely once he lay back down again.
"Sam?" asked Primula. "Who on earth is Sam?"
Gandalf shook his head. "Not a clue." (Remember...Sam isn't born yet as Frodo is just ten. Merry really shouldn't be born yet either but *oops* lol...I didnt do any background age research). Finally, Gandalf ordered Drogo and Primula to bed, promsing that he would look after Frodo (Who to Bilbo's relief had passed out on the pillows again.). "You too, Bilbo. You don't want to get sick too you know. You and Frodo both worry so much about each other that..."
"I know, Gandalf. All right...good night, then." Bilbo left and the room grew quiet, only the sound of uneven breathing from an ill hobbit-child could be heard.