When Elrond rose, he was surprised to find the morning far gone.

Smiling ruefully, he took a quick bath. But, before dressing, the elf lord assessed his rapidly healing injuries. His facial wounds and shoulder were coming along fine. The deeper wound in his forearm might warrant a little more antiseptic salve, however.

Pulling on a green velvet over-robe, Elrond decide to go to his study to see if Glorfindel had left him anything that needed attending to before he went to the ship to check on his two patients.

Out on the terrace, he spied the wizard having a post-prandial pipe. Coming out onto the flagstones, Mithrandir greeted him affably.

"Ah, good morning captain. I have just had a conversation with the Elbereth on the condition of the Ringbearer. And Glorfindel." The wizard, moving closer to the elf, brought a wrinkled hand to Elrond's face, where he gently touched the disappearing wounds. "And yourself captain?"

"I am mending nicely admiral, thank you. How are the repairs to the Elbereth?"

"Took less than estimated. All is ship shape now."

"Excellent. Shall we go visit sickbay?"

"Certainly." As he followed the elf lord, Mithrandir grabbed an apple from a nearby fruit bowl.

"Eat something Elrond."

Grinning, the healer deftly caught the apple and took a big bite as they went to the passage room.

Frodo awoke slowly, rubbing his face. Then he jerked back as he noticed the tubing in his hand. He hastily put his hand down again and looked around. Startled, he noticed the still form of Glorfindel on the table next to his.

The tall blond elf that had held back the Ringwraiths at the Ford! Had he gotten injured somehow? But wasn't that.......days ago?

Frodo then looked about the cool white surfaces and the indirect lighting.

"Sam? Lord Elrond?" He said in a dry whisper, his voice cracking. "Any one?"

Tears came unbidden to his eyes as loneliness overcame him. "Oh Elbereth!" Frodo said in a sad whisper. Where was everyone?

"Yes Master Baggins?" A calm neutral voice said. "The monitors report no problems other than a slightly elevated heartbeat. Do require anything?"

"Who-who are you?" Was this a ghost? The hobbit thought uneasily.

"I am Elbereth."

"The-the Valar?"

"I am named for she."

"Where is everybody?"

"Lord Elrond and Mithrandir are on their way up."

"I-I am so thirsty." Frodo said slowly with a sigh.

"I can provide water, Master Baggins."

With the sound of a 'snick' and a slight whir, a lengthy vine-like device, jointed like a very long insect leg dangled from the ceiling.

Frodo, eyes wide, tried to move away.

The armature hung before him, a small tube extruded at the end, glistening wetly.

Making a few small adjustments, it gently rested against Frodo's mouth.

Frozen with fear, Frodo did not move, even when the wished for liquid dribbled down his chin.

But thirst won out over fear and opening his mouth, the tube slipped between his lips and the hobbit sucked greedily, not minding that there was more than water in the tube.

It was wet and it would do.

The Elbereth let him have only what his body could tolerate and then it slipped out of his mouth and amazed, Frodo watched as it disappeared into the ceiling behind a small door.

Frodo felt tears come again and hated himself for being weak.

Truth be told, his shoulder felt much better. It was still cool to the touch but the terrible aching, icy cold was gone.

And so were the dreams, he realized.

Shifting on the table, he felt the incision stretch a bit and he winced some.

Just then, behind him, he heard the sigh of the door opening and Frodo hastily wiped his tears away.

Lord Elrond and Mithrandir came into view.

Mithrandir immediately went to Glorfindel as Lord Elrond went to the small hobbit.

"Good morning Frodo, how do you feel?"

"Much, much better my lord, thank you."

Elrond read the monitor screen for a moment and smiled at the information. Frodo's blood chemistry appeared to be clean of the evil Morgul shard's poison and his body was returning to health.

With a pat on his good shoulder he said kindly. "I need to check on Lord Glorfindel and than I shall see to you, all right?"

Frodo nodded and the elf lord noticed the tears in the very blue eyes. He paused and then came back to his small patient. Gently touching a wet cheek, the elven healer said quietly. "All will be well Frodo."

Turning to his fallen Second, the elf lay a hand on the head wound and closed his eyes for a moment concentrating on sending as much healing energy as he could. He was relieved to find that Glorfindel's thoughts were not confused.

With a sigh, the physician turned to the wizard. "Due to the delicate nature of the wound, Glorfindel should sleep until this evening, when I believe he will be stable enough to go back to the Last Homely House."

"I am glad to hear it Elrond. That was a nasty injury."

Checking the IV, Elrond was satisfied with the elf's progress.

Turning back to the watching hobbit he said, "As for you young Frodo, I am going to change your arrangements here and move you to a more comfortable room, all right? I think it would improve things immeasurably and you would be a lot more at ease."

"I would like that Lord Elrond."

Mithrandir, joining the elf lord, looked down at the Ringbearer, once again marveling at the young one's resiliency and obvious lack of fear though all this.

Elrond carefully disconnected all the paraphernalia from the nervous hobbit. Mithrandir patted Frodo comfortingly as the healer put sealant on the entry wounds caused by the needles.

Elrond then pulled his long green velvet robe off his shoulders and tucking it around the small one's form, he carefully lifted the hobbit and adjusted him comfortably in his arms.

Frodo looked up at the calm face of his healer as he moved out of sickbay and strode the ship's corridors to the closest passage room.

This Lord Elrond was as confusing and interesting as the "sickplace" he had awoken in. He could be ever so serious and then as kind as a, well…..Uncle Bilbo. And he was always gentle.

Sighing, Frodo settled deeper into the warm velvet and watched as the elf lord paused and Gandalf pressed a series of small jewels set in a wall. Whatever could those be for?

A door slid wide and Frodo, mouth opened in surprise watched as the elf and wizard entered with him and stepped up to a platform.

"Elbereth, the recovery room please."

"Yes captain."

Captain? Frodo was now thoroughly confused. Lord Elrond was a…captain? In an army? Of-of a ship?

Frodo gasped as he felt himself go completely light-headed and there was eye piercing brightness and then a brief moment of floating. Then with a gasp and an uneasy dropping of his stomach, Frodo opened his tightly shut eyes and found himself in a similar room to the one they had just…left.

Gandalf pushed some jewels again and with surprise, Frodo, though weak, tried to sit up in the healer's arms: they were not where they had just been!!

The room before him was warm with late afternoon sun and the fragrance of flowers filled the air from a steaming brazier on a table near a very large bed. The blankets had been pulled down and suddenly Frodo yawned, realizing how much more comfortable that looked than that-that…hard pallet-table he had been laying on.

Lord Elrond gently laid his patient on the linen sheets and deftly pulled his velvet robe off the thin form. Mithrandir came up to him, handing him a large nightshirt, which he slipped over Frodo's head.

Getting the young hobbit comfortably settled against the pillows, the elf lord pulled up the blanket. Smiling, he sat at Frodo's side and lay his hand softly on the Ringbearer's forehead sending him back to sleep.

Then, murmuring in his ancient tongue, he spent several minutes erasing the hobbits memories of the Elbereth and carefully building false memories of Frodo's arrival in Rivendell and his subsequent dealings with Elrond and Mithrandir. The glow about him rivaled the sun coming in from the West.

Slowly the light faded and staggering a little when he finally lifted his hand, he was grateful for Mithrandir's support.

"One lone apple was not enough nourishment for such work Elrond. Why don't you get a proper meal? I shall sit with the Ringbearer in the unlikely event that he should awaken. And if he should ask any questions I shall be appropriately vague."

Elrond rubbed a hand across his head and nodded tiredly. It had already been a very busy day and the sun was only just now sliding into early evening.

"All right. I shall just get something from the kitchens, order some invalid food for our young friend here and return shortly. He still needs an IV to maintain him."

The elf lord smiled at his admiral, the sunlight catching in his dark eyes and making his face look younger than his 6500 years bespoke. "While you are sitting there, with your pipe no doubt, do think of a clever way to hide the IV Frodo needs. Just one. The catheter is not necessary now."

"Oh a conundrum! I shall enjoying imagining something ingenious for you my dear Elrond. Now go get some food."

"As you will, my admiral."

Mithrandir snorted and waved his young friend off, reaching into his cavernous pockets for his slender pipe and tobacco.