CHAPTER 5

He was lying on the ground, his upper body supported against something, with Lord Elrond sitting beside him. Tree branches had been cleverly woven above them to cut down the glare of the midday sun and Frodo was wrapped closely in several blankets. Even so, he shivered slightly, and was glad of the warmth of the drink he was being patiently fed. It was a light tea, smelling of honeyed toffee again. Frodo wondered where Lord Elrond got that wonderful honey.

He tried to speak. "Tired." Even that little effort made him breathless and Elrond paused in his feeding to allow his patient to recover.

"You are quite ill, Frodo. That will make you feel very weary. But I have also been giving you teas to make you drowsy." When he saw the beginning of protest in Frodo's eyes he raised one eyebrow in censure. "You are so ill that you should be resting quietly for several days, not riding across mountain passes. But the orc attack has meant that we cannot camp for any length of time. We will continue to rest during the daylight hours and travel at night. That way, if they attack again, we will at least have the option of running."

As he spoke, Elrond continued to feed Frodo tiny sips of tea, watching carefully to ensure that they were swallowed. His free hand brushed the little hobbit's hair back from his brow and his touch seemed to bring comfort. "I am afraid I am going to be giving you lots of teas and medicines for the next few days. I need to bring down your temperature and clear your chest and you must also sleep. Please do not fight me on the matter."

Frodo doubted that he had the energy to put up any kind of a fight for he could no longer deny the truth of Lord Elrond's words. He was very ill and no amount of anger or stubbornness would make him better now.

As if to test his request the healer poured a little syrup onto a spoon and touched it lightly to Frodo's mouth. The hobbit parted dry lips obediently and the spoon was slipped between them. The medicine was not particularly pleasant but Frodo had to admit that Bilbo had fed him worse as a tweenager and he did not resist when another spoonful was offered.

A shadow fell across them and tall forms suddenly surrounded the two. Elladan, Elrohir and Gandalf stood casually about them, their robes and bodies effectively screening them from the rest of the camp.

Elrond sent out a silent "Thank you," to them and settled down into Vilya's cool depths. He laid a gentle hand upon Frodo's cheek and tilted the little hobbit's face until the fever bright, blue eyes looked up into his.

Frodo looked up at Elrond in query and found himself snared by the elf's sharp gaze. He felt like a cony caught in a sudden light and he could not tear his eyes away, and although he could not see the ring of air he knew it was being used. A warm, soft breeze fanned his forehead and he could feel a new strength in his leaden limbs. He took in a tentative breath and encountered the taste of wine and a scent of spring flowers that did not sear his lungs, although he was wary not to breathe too deeply.

Elrond broke his gaze and leaned back and the trio drifted away without a backward glance. Frodo yawned, feeling suddenly very drowsy once more and the healer turned and beckoned to Sam, who scurried over with a basin and wrung out a cloth, draping its cool dampness on his master's brow as Elrond stood to leave. The elf smiled down at him.

"Sleep well, Frodo."

Another yawn and the hobbit felt his eyelids becoming heavy once more. He let them slide shut, still trying to work out whether it was the medicine or Lord Elrond's command that made him sink back into a sleep that was dreamless this time.

"Do not rouse yourself, Little One." Elrond's smooth, lilting voice drifted into his dreams. Despite the instruction, Frodo forced his eyes open as he felt his mouth filled with sweet syrup and he swallowed as he tried to blink the world back into focus.

He was staring up into the elven lord's ageless features, framed by a grey sky. A light rain bespangled the long dark hair but Frodo was held, warm and dry, in the shadow of his protector's cloak.

He tried to sit up but the action brought on a deep sticky cough that filled his mouth with unpleasant tasting phlegm. Elrond immediately put a cloth to his patient's mouth. "Spit, Frodo." He did as he was commanded, glad to get rid of the foul stuff. The action was rewarded with a small sip of cool water to clear the taste and then another spoonful of syrup. Elven eyes became silvered, tinged with blue, and Frodo sensed more energy being poured into him via Vilya before sleep claimed him again.

Time lost all meaning to him. He was awakened for food, usually thin warm broths and sometimes he was aware of swallowing syrups. Occasionally he woke to a fit of violent coughing but as soon as it was over he would tumble back down into darkness once more. Familiar faces wove in and out of dream and reality; Sam, Elrond, Gandalf, Merry and Pippin. Sometimes their lips moved and he was aware of their voices but his mind could make no sense of the words and he simply took comfort in the familiarity of their sound. They did not seem to mind that he did not reply, their eyes full of concern and their voices gentle and soothing.

There were dreams but they were never frightening or dark. Frodo wondered a dreamscape filled with forests and high white waterfalls, starlight and soft breezes. Sometimes it was Imladris and at other times it was Lothlorien but always it was peaceful and calming. At other times he was surrounded by blue light and clean air, his consciousness spread on a thousand facetted surfaces until it grew thinner and thinner and dispersed on a feather light breath.

There was a smooth rocking motion and he was warm and comfortable. Around him beautiful voices were raised in song and his heart soared through the notes with them. Opening his eyes, Frodo found he was staring up into a star filled sky beyond Elrond's upturned face.

Always aware of his precious charge's needs the elf looked down and smiled.

"We are almost home, Frodo. The lights of Imladris beckon in the valley below us." Silver starlit eyes shone with joy at the thought of coming home. So much had changed but Imladris was the same…for the moment at least.

"I'd like to see it." Elrond was pleased at the strength and clarity of Frodo's voice and the small ribcage no longer struggled to gather enough breath. He considered insisting that Frodo remain recumbent but, instead, he raised the hobbit slowly until he rested against the velvet clad chest and, could see, through the canopy of trees below them, the distant twinkling lights of The Last Homely House.

Frodo yawned. "We have got here quickly."

A chuckle alerted him to Gandalf's presence at their side. "Aye. It only took us seven days," he commented, dryly.

Frodo absorbed that bit of information silently as Elrond began to steer his horse down the narrow track into the valley. The sheer drop at his side should have been alarming to the hobbit but he felt very safe in the elf lord's arms and he merely let the scenery slip by. A thought suddenly popped into his head.

"What date is it?"

"It is the eve of September the 21st," came Gandalf's reply.

"It's Bilbo's birthday tomorrow and I shall be there, after all." Frodo smiled at the prospect of being able to wish his uncle a happy birthday.

"You will be there but in your bed, Master Frodo," announced Elrond, firmly.

"But I must be at his birthday party," Frodo pleaded. "He will worry about me if I don't see him and I wouldn't want to spoil his birthday."

Elrond relented a little. "When we reach the house you may let him know that you are arrived safely, but then you must go to your bed. You may feel a little better at the moment but that is only because you have rested for several days. You must not expend too much energy yet." His tone brooked no argument and Frodo sighed and settled back into the warmth of Elrond's cloak.

"Very well. And . . . thank you, Lord Elrond, for looking after me. I am sorry that I was such a bother."

"It is my honour to care for the Ringbearer," was the elf lord's simple reply.

As they crossed the bridge and rode into the courtyard many elves ran out to greet them, surrounding the group with laughter and song and Frodo felt better just being in this friendly and comfortable place.

Elrond handed him down to Elladan's arms and the little hobbit was set carefully on his feet. Frodo swayed for a moment, his body unused to the position after so many days reclining, but he soon found his balance and, with a quick "Thank you" to both elves he and the other hobbits went to find Bilbo.