I believe I stated my disclaimer enough in past chapters :)
A/N: I'm back to updating! Since exams are over and all. But now I need the will to over come this stupid case of writers block...blah! Well anyways...Scotland forever!
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It had been some hours that Frodo had lain in silence. His eyes soon fluttered open; the all too familiar sound of thunder and the soft patter of rain was amongst him. "Oh no..." he thought. What was the time? And was Bilbo worried? Dear Bilbo. Frodo struggled up to his feet, his hand plastered to his side. The blood, now that it had stopped flowing so profusely, had seeped through his tunic and vest, and even his coat, onto his hand. He frowned.
"What a mess you've made!" he reproached himself. Taking one step, and a deep breath, he mused it was time to go back to Bag End. He found walking rather difficult. He supposed it was the fall on his back and the cut in his side that made it so. Sighing, he tried not to notice the pain, and continued to stumble along.
His attention was drawn aside when he saw a young hobbit lad sleeping; his back against a tree. He smiled, it was Sam Gamgee, the gardener's son. Sam was probably around nine or ten years old, and was as nice a hobbit as you could wish to meet. He had a certain air of pure kindness and care about him. Frodo wondered what he would be doing out here. He approached Sam slowly, and gently shook his shoulder. "Sam? Sam lad, wake up..." he said softly.
"Huh? Oh! Hullo there, Mr. Frodo!" cried Sam, leaping to his feet.
Frodo smiled. "Yes, hullo Sam. What are you doing out here? You'll catch a fever! Come on now, off home!"
"Actually, Mr. Frodo, I came out here to look for you. Begging your pardon, sir."
"Looking for me? Why?"
"Well I was in the garden with my Gaffer --doing my own business, mind-- And Mr. Bilbo came out. 'Hullo, Mr. Baggins' my Gaffer says to 'im. 'Why the worried look?'. And Mr. Bilbo said 'Well, I'm rather concerned of Frodo. I told him to be home shortly, and he hasn't returned. And what with the weather approaching I'm hoping nothing happened.' and I says to 'im, 'I'll go and look for Mr. Frodo, I'm done with me gardening' and well, sir, to make a long story short, that's why I'm here. But...I suppose I was a bit tired..." he blushed and shuffled his feet.
Frodo found it rather amusing. "No trouble at all, Sam. Come along, your Gaffer is probably very worried of you! We'd better be on our way home." He smiled and began to make his way back, hiding as best he could the pain from Sam; and making sure that the young hobbit stood on the opposite side of the blood stains on his jacket. Sam, of course, plodded along, happy in the presence of the amazing Mr. Frodo.
The rain increased, sharp pelts of stinging rain began to drench the two hobbits. Frodo felt as if he was being shot in the side by several arrows. Sam tried to keep up with Frodo. After a moment, the pain became too much, and Frodo fell to his knees, hunched over and clutching at his side. Why had he cut so deeply? He gave a stifled cry; trying to conceal the pain from the innocent Sam.
But it was impossible for Sam not to notice Frodo's grief. He stopped running, and mad his way as quickly as he could back to Frodo's side, despite the loudness of the storm and the beating rain. "Mr. Frodo, sir, are you alright?" he put a hand on Frodo's back.
"Yes, yes Sam I'm quite fine. I just want to stay here, alright? You go on." He replied, not moving from his position.
"But Mr. Frodo..." said Sam, who couldn't believe what he had heard. He couldn't just...leave him? It was then when the keen hobbit's eyes scanned over the bloodstain on Frodo's side. "Mr. Frodo, you're bleeding!" he exclaimed, and knelt down, gently running his fingers along the long line of blood that went straight up and down Frodo's side. "Oh dear, I need to get you out of the rain, Mr. Frodo. It isn't well that you should be out here, like this and all." He took one of Frodo's arms and helped him up.
Frodo panicked. Had he been discovered? He quickly came to himself, his strength seemed to return in vigor. He swiftly thought of a false tale to tell Sam. "Yes Sam, I was in one of these trees, and was caught off guard by the singing of the birds-most lulling! And well, I turned to look at the lovely creatures when I lost my balance and fell."
"Oh, Mr. Frodo! It must hurt you terribly." said Sam in shock. "We'd better get home right quick."
"Of course, and Sam? Don't say anything of this, it's worry Bilbo so much."
"Yes, Mr. Frodo, I won't." He smiled and took Frodo by the arm, leading him out of the woods and over the bridge, back to the Hill. Frodo saw Sam to his home, and then made his way back to Bag End.
Frodo mused it was rather late evening, some where around 6.00. As he made his way up the path, there were broken tree limbs all over. "There must've been quite a storm out here." he mumbled.
He approached the round green door of Bag End, and entered quietly. And, of course, dear Bilbo Baggins was pacing worriedly by the hearth of the fireplace. He glanced up upon the faint creak of the door, and looked at his nephew. "Frodo! Frodo, what happened, I thought you'd be back for elenvensies!" cried Bilbo, going quickly to his nephew. "You're soaking wet! Where in the Shire have you been?"
"Oh, Uncle Bilbo, I'm sorry! I-I lost track of time. I fell asleep, you see."
"Frodo. Frodo please be careful. I do worry about you! Now go on and change your clothes. Supper will be ready soon and I don't want you coming ill!" he shooed Frodo down the hallway to his room. Frodo put a hand on his side, to hide the blood. He smiled and complied, going off.
Bilbo couldn't help but notice that as Frodo walked down the hallway, he seemed to favor his side. "I wonder, tweens now-a-days..." he shook his head and followed Frodo quietly; for he had forgotten to ask his nephew what he wanted to drink with his supper. Frodo was already beginning to take off his wet tunic, and replace it, when Bilbo came in the room. Frodo turned around, stunned. He had lifted his shirt off of his middle, but still had yet to remove the tunic from his arms, to his relief. "Good heavens, Frodo!" cried Bilbo, looking at the large cut on Frodo's side. "What happened!?"
"Bilbo! I-what are you doing in here? I'll be out shortly!" he stammered.
Bilbo went to Frodo and ran his fingers along the cut, which was still streaming out small beads of blood here and there. "Oh Frodo, that looks terrible. What happened?"
"I fell from a tree..." he managed to say, waiting for Bilbo to move so he could put his shirt wholly on again.
"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt? Come now, Frodo my lad, we need to clean it up and have it looked at. I don't doubt it's already infected from exposure to the rain.
Frodo panicked again. "No! No it's alright, really it is. I can manage! Please!"
"Calm down, lad! Now come along with me." And before Frodo could protest, Bilbo gently took his nephew by the arm and led him down the hallway towards the bathroom. Frodo was frightened. What if his uncle made him remove his shirt? He would certainly notice the gashes and cuts all about his arms. Frodo feared the worst.
