What Frodo Did 4/?
Angie
It was rather a subdued gathering of Gamgee's who sat around the kitchen table for a cold supper that night. When there was a knock at the door Bell went to answer it with little Samwise sitting on her hip and still hiccupping with the occasional outpouring of tears.
"Dr Bramble, Sir, how is the young master?"
"I came down to see if one of your lads could go to the apothecary," said the doctor reaching out to tousle Sam's already tousled hair. "And what is wrong with you little one?"
"He's grown rather fond of Mr Frodo Sir and didn't like to see him hurt."
"Mr Baggins may be needing some help Mrs Gamgee. That lad is in for a long time of trouble. He has hurt his back badly."
"Not broken sir?" asked Bell in alarm.
"No, I think not, but we will have to wait and see."
"Oh, poor Master Frodo, and poor Mr Bilbo," Bell kissed the head of her youngest. "I'll send Hamson out for the medicine and go up to Bag End myself."
--ooOoo--
Frodo opened his eyes slowly. All was dark around him and for one terrible moment he thought he was still in the orchard under the tree. Slowly though his vision cleared a little and he could make out the comforting glow of the fire in the grate and a single candle on the nightstand. His head ached furiously and even the muted glow of the flame made his eyes hurt.
He moaned a little and closed his eyes. There was someone in the room with him. Someone who put a blessedly cool cloth over his forehead and eyes.
"Please," Frodo managed.
"What is it, my lad?"
"Can I have another cloth for my chin? It throbs so."
"Of course, my lad, you can have anything you like."
"You're not cross at me then?"
A familiar hand took up one of his and Frodo felt a thumb rubbing over his palm. "No, my lad. You gave me a fearful fright and I am just glad to have you safe at home."
Frodo lapsed into silence for a little longer and heard water being wrung out. "How long have I got to stay in bed?"
A second cloth was placed tenderly over his jaw.
"That will depend upon whether you can eat some broth for me, and then lie still and try to sleep."
"Will I be able to get up tomorrow?" Frodo's voice was a little muffled now.
"Let's see shall we."
"Bilbo?"
"Yes lad?"
"I am so very sorry I climbed the tree, and I promise not to do it again."
With the aid of a few drops from a small bottle Dr Bramble had left behind Frodo's eyes quickly closed and he slept through the night. He had nasty dreams though, dreams in which he was endlessly falling into some dark realm, and then it was no longer dark, but there were flames; flames around him and falling with him. It seemed as though there were some terrible enemy which shared his descent and he struck out at it as they fell but could not reach it, though the flames were hot on his body.
--ooOoo--
Morning found a worn looking Bilbo sitting by his young cousin's bedside. He had slept better on Smaugs Mountain than he had this night with Frodo ill. While the lad slept on Bilbo opened the curtains a little.
Frodo's usually tanned and rosy face was white, what could be seen of it around the compresses on his forehead and chin. His hair was a tangled mess in which a few bits of twig were well ensnared.
Bilbo was under no illusions about his inability to take care of the injured lad. He would have to get a woman from the village to act as nurse. He was terrified that he might inadvertently do something wrong which might hurt the boy further.
A little moan, somewhere between sleep and waking drew Bilbo's attention back to Frodo. The hobbit lad shifted on the bed and moaned in real pain this time as he was jarred back to consciousness.
"Lie still," Bilbo warned unnecessarily.
"Oh please Uncle Bilbo, close the curtains. The light hurts my head dreadfully!"
Bilbo moved to comply and once again plunged the room into comforting twilight. "Would you like some breakfast, my boy. I could make you pancakes and then come and read a story to you."
"Can I get up this afternoon?" Frodo wanted to know.
Bilbo pulled his chair back up to the bedside. "Frodo lad. You had quite a fall yesterday. You may have to stay in bed for a while yet."
"How long is a while?" Frodo asked. "Two days?"
"Maybe even a week."
"A week!" Frodo wailed. "BUT.. Oh, I had all sorts of adventures in mind. There is a little stream I found to explore and I haven't been to see if the Lightning Tree has come back to life yet, and then there is the badgers set. Hamson said he would take me down one evening to see them."
"They will all wait for you my dearest boy."
"What will I do for a week? My head hurts so I can't read."
"I know, I know. I can read to you." Bilbo tried to sooth the fretful boy and leaned over to kiss his forehead. Even under the cold compress Bilbo was worried to feel heat radiating off his small cousin.
Frodo turned his head restlessly away. He was upset and angry. He wanted to be out and about, but he did admit that his head hurt dreadfully. The worst of it was that there was no one else he could blame for this. It was his own entire fault he was stuck in bed on a glorious summers day. He would die if he had to stay in bed a whole week! Tears were threatening and he closed his eyes tight shut to try to keep them at bay, but it was no use, he felt so weak and helpless and hot, his head hurt, and his back, and he felt like tight bands were drawing round his chest.
Bilbo wanted desperately to draw Frodo up out of the bed and wrap his arms around him, but he knew he could not and had to settle for resting a hand on the lads shoulder - a shoulder which felt far too hot to the touch and spoke of fever brewing.
It was rather a subdued gathering of Gamgee's who sat around the kitchen table for a cold supper that night. When there was a knock at the door Bell went to answer it with little Samwise sitting on her hip and still hiccupping with the occasional outpouring of tears.
"Dr Bramble, Sir, how is the young master?"
"I came down to see if one of your lads could go to the apothecary," said the doctor reaching out to tousle Sam's already tousled hair. "And what is wrong with you little one?"
"He's grown rather fond of Mr Frodo Sir and didn't like to see him hurt."
"Mr Baggins may be needing some help Mrs Gamgee. That lad is in for a long time of trouble. He has hurt his back badly."
"Not broken sir?" asked Bell in alarm.
"No, I think not, but we will have to wait and see."
"Oh, poor Master Frodo, and poor Mr Bilbo," Bell kissed the head of her youngest. "I'll send Hamson out for the medicine and go up to Bag End myself."
--ooOoo--
Frodo opened his eyes slowly. All was dark around him and for one terrible moment he thought he was still in the orchard under the tree. Slowly though his vision cleared a little and he could make out the comforting glow of the fire in the grate and a single candle on the nightstand. His head ached furiously and even the muted glow of the flame made his eyes hurt.
He moaned a little and closed his eyes. There was someone in the room with him. Someone who put a blessedly cool cloth over his forehead and eyes.
"Please," Frodo managed.
"What is it, my lad?"
"Can I have another cloth for my chin? It throbs so."
"Of course, my lad, you can have anything you like."
"You're not cross at me then?"
A familiar hand took up one of his and Frodo felt a thumb rubbing over his palm. "No, my lad. You gave me a fearful fright and I am just glad to have you safe at home."
Frodo lapsed into silence for a little longer and heard water being wrung out. "How long have I got to stay in bed?"
A second cloth was placed tenderly over his jaw.
"That will depend upon whether you can eat some broth for me, and then lie still and try to sleep."
"Will I be able to get up tomorrow?" Frodo's voice was a little muffled now.
"Let's see shall we."
"Bilbo?"
"Yes lad?"
"I am so very sorry I climbed the tree, and I promise not to do it again."
With the aid of a few drops from a small bottle Dr Bramble had left behind Frodo's eyes quickly closed and he slept through the night. He had nasty dreams though, dreams in which he was endlessly falling into some dark realm, and then it was no longer dark, but there were flames; flames around him and falling with him. It seemed as though there were some terrible enemy which shared his descent and he struck out at it as they fell but could not reach it, though the flames were hot on his body.
--ooOoo--
Morning found a worn looking Bilbo sitting by his young cousin's bedside. He had slept better on Smaugs Mountain than he had this night with Frodo ill. While the lad slept on Bilbo opened the curtains a little.
Frodo's usually tanned and rosy face was white, what could be seen of it around the compresses on his forehead and chin. His hair was a tangled mess in which a few bits of twig were well ensnared.
Bilbo was under no illusions about his inability to take care of the injured lad. He would have to get a woman from the village to act as nurse. He was terrified that he might inadvertently do something wrong which might hurt the boy further.
A little moan, somewhere between sleep and waking drew Bilbo's attention back to Frodo. The hobbit lad shifted on the bed and moaned in real pain this time as he was jarred back to consciousness.
"Lie still," Bilbo warned unnecessarily.
"Oh please Uncle Bilbo, close the curtains. The light hurts my head dreadfully!"
Bilbo moved to comply and once again plunged the room into comforting twilight. "Would you like some breakfast, my boy. I could make you pancakes and then come and read a story to you."
"Can I get up this afternoon?" Frodo wanted to know.
Bilbo pulled his chair back up to the bedside. "Frodo lad. You had quite a fall yesterday. You may have to stay in bed for a while yet."
"How long is a while?" Frodo asked. "Two days?"
"Maybe even a week."
"A week!" Frodo wailed. "BUT.. Oh, I had all sorts of adventures in mind. There is a little stream I found to explore and I haven't been to see if the Lightning Tree has come back to life yet, and then there is the badgers set. Hamson said he would take me down one evening to see them."
"They will all wait for you my dearest boy."
"What will I do for a week? My head hurts so I can't read."
"I know, I know. I can read to you." Bilbo tried to sooth the fretful boy and leaned over to kiss his forehead. Even under the cold compress Bilbo was worried to feel heat radiating off his small cousin.
Frodo turned his head restlessly away. He was upset and angry. He wanted to be out and about, but he did admit that his head hurt dreadfully. The worst of it was that there was no one else he could blame for this. It was his own entire fault he was stuck in bed on a glorious summers day. He would die if he had to stay in bed a whole week! Tears were threatening and he closed his eyes tight shut to try to keep them at bay, but it was no use, he felt so weak and helpless and hot, his head hurt, and his back, and he felt like tight bands were drawing round his chest.
Bilbo wanted desperately to draw Frodo up out of the bed and wrap his arms around him, but he knew he could not and had to settle for resting a hand on the lads shoulder - a shoulder which felt far too hot to the touch and spoke of fever brewing.