CHAPTER 2

With acknowledgement to the inspiration of Frodo Baggins of Bag End. Best tray setter on the mush.

Elrond sensed his patient's returning consciousness and slipped out of his mind. Rising, he took a moment to stretch, before collecting his cloak from the heap of covers and leaving the tent silently. He found Samwise talking with the other two hobbits. Merry spoke up first.

"How is he, Lord Elrond?"

The healer smiled. "He is well, Master Merriadoc . . . Simply over tired . . . it has been a long journey for him, in many ways."

He turned to Sam. "Your master is waking now. He will need breakfast. A little oatmeal perhaps and some camomile tea? If you bring them to me I will provide some honey to sweeten them."

Sam jumped to comply, although it was only moments ago that he had looked into the tent to see his master still deeply asleep beneath Elrond's protective hand.

When he awoke the Frodo was a little surprised to find that he was alone. Sam's bedroll was neatly folded and he could hear the sound of people moving about outside. At least, he could hear the voices of folk moving about outside, he corrected himself, for elven footfalls were nearly imperceptible

He felt rested but his throat was sore, his nose itched and when he tried to sit up he discovered that he had a mild headache. Recognising the symptoms at once, he lay back with a groan. A cold was the last thing he needed now. He curled up in his warm cocoon of blankets again. At least he was no longer shivering.

But the change in position made his nose start running and he sighed, sitting up as he fished about in his pockets for a handkerchief. He was blowing his nose when Sam entered, carrying a small bowl and a cup. His face lit up when he saw Frodo.

"Master Elrond said as how you'd be awake about now. Are you feeling better?"

Frodo grimaced. "Better than last night, certainly, but it looks as though I've now got a cold. Still, never mind. After what we've been through a little cold is nothing, is it?"

Sam's face grew concerned. "Do you want me to fetch Master Elrond? Maybe he can give you some elven medicine."

Frodo shook his head, regretting the action when it exacerbated his headache. "No, Sam. I think I can manage to cope with a simple cold."

"If you say so, Mr Frodo." He handed over the bowl and cup. They contained warm, creamy oatmeal with a swirl of dark honey and camomile tea. Frodo's stomach rumbled and he tucked in, a little saddened when he found his nose so stuffed up that he could not really taste them. By the time he had finished the tea Sam had returned with a bowl of hot water for him to bathe and Frodo tidied himself up before heading out to face the world once more.

Galadriel looked up, her eyes following the ex-Ringbearer as he crossed the glade. Her gaze returned to Elrond and her voice drifted into his mind.

"I sense something wrong in Frodo. Are you sure he was only tired?"

Elrond looked at her quizzically. "There are many "wrong" things in Frodo's body. His frame holds the marks of many injuries, both physical and mental. Which one are you referring to?"

The Lady of the Golden Wood ignored the slight tone of censure in her kinsman's voice, willing to let it slide by her on this occasion.

"I was not referring to any of them. There is something more. I believe it may be some illness peculiar to mortals for it is something I have not encountered before." Her voice takes on a wry note. "Perhaps that is why you did not sense it?"

Elrond sighed. In any tussle with Galadriel he always lost. He had to admit that sometimes it was fun trying, though. "I will go and check on him."

About the campsite the elves were busying themselves with various duties or sitting talking. To one side a small group were tuning instruments, practising a song and, in a quiet corner, still sat Galadriel, Elrond, Celeborn and Gandalf.

As he crossed the campsite Elrohir approached him. "Good day, Frodo. Are you well?"

"Quite well, thank you."

He had only taken a few steps more when Elladan gave him a cheering greeting. "Hello Frodo. Feeling better?"

Frodo forced a smile. "Yes, thank you."

When he located the other hobbits their faces, too, were concerned and Pippin insisted on leading him to a log and sitting him down.

"Are you all right, Frodo?" asked Merry.

Frodo was about to answer but had to make a grab for his handkerchief as he sneezed loudly. He wiped his nose irritably. "Aside from a slight cold I am perfectly alright and I'm going to kick the next person who asks me that!"

Pippin looked up and behind his cousin, mouth open and eyes twinkling and from behind Frodo came a soft voice.

"Good morning, Master Frodo. Are you well, today?"

Frodo winced and looked back and up, into Lord Elrond's calm features. The little hobbit could not work out whether the elf had heard his last comment but thought he may have detected a slight twitch to the corners of the healer's mouth. To one side he heard Pippin stifle a giggle and then yelp, presumably because Merry or Sam had just elbowed him in the ribs.

Now that he was closer Elrond could, indeed, sense something different within Frodo. It was fortunate that Galadriel had noticed it so soon and Elrond tried to put aside his irked feelings at not having seen it when he sat at Frodo's bedside earlier.

Frodo turned and stood. "I am feeling much better, thank you, Lord Elrond." As he spoke he could feel a tickle building at the back of his throat and, just as he got to the end of the sentence, his body betrayed him, sending him into a fit of coughing that set his nose running and made his eyes water. When he finally recovered, wiping eyes and nose once more, he found his friends and Elrond watching him, disbelievingly. The elf pressed him back down onto the log, hunkering down before him, and Frodo sighed in resignation.

"It's just a cold. Everyone gets them, occasionally." Even as he said it Frodo remembered that elves did not.

"So I understand," Elrond replied calmly. He laid a hand on Frodo's forehead. The fingers felt cool and Frodo suspected that this meant that he had a bit of a temperature. Elrond dropped his fingers to Frodo's wrist, testing the pulse, and the little hobbit tried to read the healer's expression. Unfortunately, he discovered that, in common with many healers, the elf had developed the knack of schooling his face to give nothing away.

The hand was removed. "It was always our intention to stay here for a few days so, in a way, it is fortunate that you developed this cold now. You will have time to rest and recover before we have to move on. I suggest you return to your bed today, to allow your body some rest." When Frodo made to protest the elf forestalled him with a raised hand. "It has been a long journey, you are at a low ebb and you have a slight fever. I will send some teas to Samwise to help you sleep and ease some of the symptoms."

Frodo blew his nose. The idea of becoming a burden yet again did not appeal but the easing of some of his symptoms did so he decided to give in gracefully. "Very well. Thank you, Lord Elrond." The elf rose and left, as silently as he had arrived.

Pippin exploded into gales of laughter. "I didn't see you kick him."

Frodo laughed as he stood to leave. "Oh, shut up, Pippin. Or I shall kick you instead."

The teas Elrond sent did, indeed, help Frodo rest. In fact, for two days he was aware of little for, every time he roused from sleep, Sam was waiting with more tea and he was too drowsy to protest. But when he awoke on the morning of the third day he felt much improved. His nose had stopped running, his headache had gone and his throat no longer hurt, although his chest felt a little tight, but Frodo decided that it would probably ease off once he started moving about.

He was just considering getting dressed when the tent flap opened and Sam entered, carrying a small tray. Frodo groaned.

"No more tea, please, Sam. I don't think I shall need to sleep again for a week."

Sam laughed and set the tray in Frodo's lap. "Well, there is tea, Mr Frodo. But it's not the same as you've been takin'. Master Elrond said this one would build you up a bit."

Indeed, the tea did smell different, although it still carried the warm smell of toffee. And with it was a selection of small tempting dishes; a bowl of smooth oatmeal with a swirl of honey and cinnamon, fresh bread rolls with a pat of soft yellow butter on the side and a tiny dish of blackberry conserve, a cup of light vegetable broth, two softly boiled eggs in a dish, a small plate of creamed mushrooms surrounded by little triangles of toast, a little apple juice and a small cup of clear liquid.

Frodo picked up the smallest cup and sniffed the contents, dubiously. There was no smell but he suspected that it was not water. "What is this?"

"Master Elrond said as how you were to drink that first. He said it would help your appetite." Sam shook his head. "Although why he should think that a hobbit would need help with his appetite I don't know."

Frodo tasted, finding that it was miruvor, and sipped slowly as he tried to decide what to eat first. By the time he had finished the cup he had decided on the mushrooms.

Elrond had noticed Sam enter Frodo's tent and waited quietly by the fire. He would give his patient some time before going to check on him. It was only as he saw Sam leaving with the tray some time later that the healer approached the tent.

Frodo looked up in surprise as Lord Elrond arrived. Kneeling at Frodo's bedside he felt his patient's forehead and pulse.

"You seem much improved, Frodo."

"I am feeling a lot better, thank you," Frodo smiled. "I was just thinking of getting up," he added, hopefully.

"I do not see why you should not. Although I suggest that you do not overtax yourself," Elrond replied. He was just about to get up when Frodo coughed. It was not a particularly bad cough but the healer paused and Frodo grimaced when he saw the elf settle down again and eye him, carefully.

"I always get a slight cough after a cold. I usually goes within a few days. It's nothing to worry about."

Elrond merely speared him with a look and laid his head against the small chest for a moment. "Breathe in, please." Frodo took a deep breath. "Now, out again." Frodo complied, trying not to cough when he realised that he had inhaled too deeply.

The healer drew back. "There is a little congestion. It is nothing to worry about at the moment but if it does not clear up in the next few days or grows worse, come and see me."

Frodo nodded, relieved to be let off the hook and grateful that he would not be forced to drink more teas.

Elrond rose smoothly to his full height and left, in a swirl of grey velvet robes.