FIC: Hiding from the Healers
AUTHOR: Lily Baggins
RATING: PG
Author's Note: This are just silly little vignettes I wrote---usually when I was bored during my lunch hour---several months ago regarding poor Frodo and the FrodoHealers group (of which I am an active member). I hope no one objects, since they're on the FrodoHealers archive, but if you do, please let me know and I'll remove your name. Again, this is NOT meant to poke fun at anyone---er, anyone who reads *my* fiction will *know* this. :) Since I mean to add to these eventually, and since several other like-minded parodies have made me laugh my head off recently, I thought I'd post them.
Disclaimers. The usual. I make no money off of this and do not own these characters, much to my chagrin. They belong to Tolkien Enterprises and New Line Productions, and I only give them interesting---and usually unpleasant---ways to spend their time. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that all medical treatments contained herein are purely for entertainment value and are not meant to replace professional medical advice.
***
Gandalf looked pitying at the small hobbit curled up in the bed, his face pale and feverish, his hair matted and spread across his pillow. The hobbit was in some serious need of comfort.
The door opened and Elrond ushered in the three female healers---Elwen and Niphrandl of Rivendell and Rufferto, a hobbit from the Shire. Nodding, the elf lord went to Frodo's bedside, leaning over and gently speaking to him.
"Frodo, these healers are here to comfort you. Let them do as they must---they have no small gift for healing."
The hobbit nodded weakly, feeling too chilled and sick to argue. Stepping back, Elrond looked at the three newcomers.
"Go ahead . . . he is ready."
Suddenly, much to Frodo's horror, Elwen settled in the rocking chair next to his bed and leaned over him, taking his trembling hands in hers, while Niphrandl and Rufferto climbed into bed with him, one on either side, both pulling him close and snuggling up to his small warm body.
"Poor wee thing," Rufferto told him as she tucked his blankets about him more securely and stroked his pale face. "You feel feverish. You are seriously in need of some good cuddling."
Frodo's blue eyes widened in shock and he looked to Gandalf for help, but the wizard only smiled.
Meanwhile, Niphrandl had lifted Frodo's shoulders and now had him cradled to her, gently rocking. He squirmed a bit, trying to pull away, feeling more than just a bit awkward, but she would have none of it.
"Now, now, Frodo," she chided. "You've a hard mission ahead of you. Rest here in my arms while you can." She sighed in contentment; against her shoulder the hobbit was wondering if he had the strength to slip the Ring on and disappear.
Elwen noticed his scared look and reached for his hands again, squeezing them, before looking sadly at Elrond. The two of them shared a knowing glance for a moment before Elwen turned back to Frodo, shaking her head in pity. "Frodo, I think you need to tell me about your troubles ..."
Rufferto suddenly got an idea and interrupted. "Hey, let's give him a bath!" The others nodded---it sounded like a good idea. He certainly looked as if he could use one, with his hair all tangly and all.
But the hobbit had other ideas---he was *not* about to let these three strangers take his nightshirt off and bathe him. No way. He looked imploringly at Elrond, but the Lord of Rivendell seemed to be ignoring his predicament.
When the three ladies had let him go for the moment, trying to decide on whether a lavender or eucalyptus bath was more therapeutic, Frodo did the only thing he could think of... he ignored his aching body and dove under the covers, pulling them about him in a shivering heap.
"Hey, where's he gone to?" Rufferto demanded, lifting the bedclothes.
"He's ... under the covers down at the foot of the bed," Niphrandl huffed. "Hold on a minute . . ."
Elwen jumped on the bed, and lifting the covers, the three female healers crawled down until they spied the small figure huddled up under the blankets. "I've got him!" Niphrandl yelled triumphantly as she clutched a fistful of hobbit nightshirt and dragged. "Here he is."
"Gandalf," Frodo pleaded as he was brought into the light of day, suddenly finding the strength to yelp. But no help was forthcoming.
The three ladies efficiently divested the hobbit of his nightshirt, plunked him into the bath until he smelled sweetly of lavender, then reclad him and tucked him back into bed with nice hot water bottles. Through it all, he protested, his face flushed with embarrassment, but he had not the strength to fight three of them off at once.
He was just drifting off for a nice nap when he felt them settle around him in bed, petting his hair and holding him close. But he was too tired to fight anymore, and he heard their voices as if from far
away . . .
"No Rufferto, *I* get to brush his hair!"
"I don't think so, Miss Elwen. You got to feed him the soup!"
"Look you two, Rufferto got to dry him off with a towel, and you Elwen---you got to carry him back to bed . . . therefore *I* . . . "
*Until the next Frodo sickness*
AUTHOR: Lily Baggins
RATING: PG
Author's Note: This are just silly little vignettes I wrote---usually when I was bored during my lunch hour---several months ago regarding poor Frodo and the FrodoHealers group (of which I am an active member). I hope no one objects, since they're on the FrodoHealers archive, but if you do, please let me know and I'll remove your name. Again, this is NOT meant to poke fun at anyone---er, anyone who reads *my* fiction will *know* this. :) Since I mean to add to these eventually, and since several other like-minded parodies have made me laugh my head off recently, I thought I'd post them.
Disclaimers. The usual. I make no money off of this and do not own these characters, much to my chagrin. They belong to Tolkien Enterprises and New Line Productions, and I only give them interesting---and usually unpleasant---ways to spend their time. I'm sure I don't have to tell you that all medical treatments contained herein are purely for entertainment value and are not meant to replace professional medical advice.
***
Gandalf looked pitying at the small hobbit curled up in the bed, his face pale and feverish, his hair matted and spread across his pillow. The hobbit was in some serious need of comfort.
The door opened and Elrond ushered in the three female healers---Elwen and Niphrandl of Rivendell and Rufferto, a hobbit from the Shire. Nodding, the elf lord went to Frodo's bedside, leaning over and gently speaking to him.
"Frodo, these healers are here to comfort you. Let them do as they must---they have no small gift for healing."
The hobbit nodded weakly, feeling too chilled and sick to argue. Stepping back, Elrond looked at the three newcomers.
"Go ahead . . . he is ready."
Suddenly, much to Frodo's horror, Elwen settled in the rocking chair next to his bed and leaned over him, taking his trembling hands in hers, while Niphrandl and Rufferto climbed into bed with him, one on either side, both pulling him close and snuggling up to his small warm body.
"Poor wee thing," Rufferto told him as she tucked his blankets about him more securely and stroked his pale face. "You feel feverish. You are seriously in need of some good cuddling."
Frodo's blue eyes widened in shock and he looked to Gandalf for help, but the wizard only smiled.
Meanwhile, Niphrandl had lifted Frodo's shoulders and now had him cradled to her, gently rocking. He squirmed a bit, trying to pull away, feeling more than just a bit awkward, but she would have none of it.
"Now, now, Frodo," she chided. "You've a hard mission ahead of you. Rest here in my arms while you can." She sighed in contentment; against her shoulder the hobbit was wondering if he had the strength to slip the Ring on and disappear.
Elwen noticed his scared look and reached for his hands again, squeezing them, before looking sadly at Elrond. The two of them shared a knowing glance for a moment before Elwen turned back to Frodo, shaking her head in pity. "Frodo, I think you need to tell me about your troubles ..."
Rufferto suddenly got an idea and interrupted. "Hey, let's give him a bath!" The others nodded---it sounded like a good idea. He certainly looked as if he could use one, with his hair all tangly and all.
But the hobbit had other ideas---he was *not* about to let these three strangers take his nightshirt off and bathe him. No way. He looked imploringly at Elrond, but the Lord of Rivendell seemed to be ignoring his predicament.
When the three ladies had let him go for the moment, trying to decide on whether a lavender or eucalyptus bath was more therapeutic, Frodo did the only thing he could think of... he ignored his aching body and dove under the covers, pulling them about him in a shivering heap.
"Hey, where's he gone to?" Rufferto demanded, lifting the bedclothes.
"He's ... under the covers down at the foot of the bed," Niphrandl huffed. "Hold on a minute . . ."
Elwen jumped on the bed, and lifting the covers, the three female healers crawled down until they spied the small figure huddled up under the blankets. "I've got him!" Niphrandl yelled triumphantly as she clutched a fistful of hobbit nightshirt and dragged. "Here he is."
"Gandalf," Frodo pleaded as he was brought into the light of day, suddenly finding the strength to yelp. But no help was forthcoming.
The three ladies efficiently divested the hobbit of his nightshirt, plunked him into the bath until he smelled sweetly of lavender, then reclad him and tucked him back into bed with nice hot water bottles. Through it all, he protested, his face flushed with embarrassment, but he had not the strength to fight three of them off at once.
He was just drifting off for a nice nap when he felt them settle around him in bed, petting his hair and holding him close. But he was too tired to fight anymore, and he heard their voices as if from far
away . . .
"No Rufferto, *I* get to brush his hair!"
"I don't think so, Miss Elwen. You got to feed him the soup!"
"Look you two, Rufferto got to dry him off with a towel, and you Elwen---you got to carry him back to bed . . . therefore *I* . . . "
*Until the next Frodo sickness*