Frodo dipped a cloth in the pail of cool water Sam had brought him and then laid it on the child's head. She was a young hobbit-lass - certainly younger then Merry, Sam, or he, but perhaps a bit older then Pippin.
Sam came into the room slowly, balancing a new pail of water and some clean cloths in his hands. He set them down on a table next to the bed, and asked, "How is she, Mister Frodo?"
"Better, Sam. Have you sent for Dr. Bracegirdle yet?"
Sam took the old pail from Frodo as he replied. "Aye, I sent Marigold down to fetch her…but is there really anything we can do? Beggin' your pardon, Mister Frodo, but she looks even beyond Dr. Bracegirdle's help now, as accomplished as she is as a healer."
Frodo shook his head. "Don't say that, Sam. She's too young to…" Frodo's voice trailed off.
"Aye, sir," Sam said, nodding. "I shall agree with you there." He picked up the old pail and excited the room, leave Frodo to care for the young child.
Frodo sighed, then continued his task of laying the cooled cloths on the tiny girl's various wounds. The most serious one was the bite that she had taken to the throat. While it was not very deep, it bled profusely, and Frodo was worried that it had damaged something vital inside.
"You will get well, little one," he promised quietly. "I will make sure of it." As expected, there was no response, but Frodo could not help feeling disappointed. There was something special about this child, he could feel it.
"Mister Frodo?" Sam's voice came from the doorway. "Dr. Bracegirdle is here."
Not removing his gaze from the prone figure on the bed, Frodo said, "Let her in, Sam."
Dr. Bracegirdle came bustling into the room. She was a stout hobbit and very knowledgeable in her field. However, she was younger, stricter, and (most scandalously) a female, so she was rarely used by many hobbit families. Most of the hobbit-men were indignant that Dr. Bolger, who had been for so long the only healer the Shire ever had, was slowly loosing his place as head-healer. They boycotted the use of the healer who was daring enough to try and take his place - and a female, no less! However, many of the younger hobbit-children favored her, and their mothers called upon her often.
"Well now, Master Baggins, what seems to be the problem? You don't appear to be ill." Dr. Bracegirdle gave Frodo the once over, frowning.
Frodo laughed slightly. "I'm not, ma'am, although I thank you for your concern. This young one, " he pointed to the bed, "is however."
Dr. Bracegirdle blanched as she neared the bed. "And such a young thing, too," she said softly. She rolled up her sleeves, and removed the pail of water from the table next to the bed. Then she emptied her equipment onto it. Glancing up, she said, "Out with you now. Go on, scat!"
*~*
Frodo was sitting at the table, nervously wringing his hands as Sam made tea. Dr. Bracegirdle was down the hall, tending to the child, and Frodo was continually checking the clock. They had been in there for a long time.
Sam glanced at his master and smiled slightly. Mister Frodo was turnin' into a right-gut hobbit, he reckoned, better then any he knew as of now. Mister Bilbo has raised him well, perhaps better then Ms. Esmerelda could have, no disrespect meant. Mister Bilbo just seemed to…understand Mister Frodo more then anyone.
Sam glanced back at Mister Frodo as he finished preparing the tea. He was constantly checking the clock, and Sam could sense that he was worried about the young lass.
He brought the tea to the table, and said, "Dr. Bracegirdle will fix her right up, Mister Frodo."
Frodo looked up at Sam, hope dimly glowing in his eyes. "Do you really think so, Sam?"
"Aye, I do. An' Dr. Bracegirdle is real good with hobbit-lads and lasses. Marigold never let Dr. Bolger near her."
Frodo smiled slightly, imagining Marigold putting up a fight with The Gaffer and Bell when she was sick. "I'm sure that doesn't settle well with your Gaffer."
"Oh no, not at all. Can't understand it, he says. Rest of his children take to Dr. Bolger real easy-like - why does Marigold have to be difficult, he says."
Frodo's smile grew, and then he glanced at the clock again. The time was ticking by even slower then before. "Sam," he said tentatively. "I've been thinking…"
*~*
Dr. Bracegirdle sighed as she finished applying bandages and salve to the young lass' wounds. She was such a tiny thing - looked like a young bird that had fallen from its nest without knowing how to fly, she thought.
"Why, she barely looks like she's passed the ten summers mark," she said aloud. "An' I ain't never seen her 'round Hobbiton before…"
Sighing, she wiped her hand on a towel, and then she stepped outside to talk to Frodo and Samwise about this mysterious hobbit child.
*~*
Frodo and Sam were sitting at the table idly making conversation when Dr. Bracegirdle stepped from the hall into the kitchen. She smiled for a moment when she heard Frodo laugh softly at something Sam had said, and then she cleared her throat. Startled, both hobbits looked at her. "Is she alright?" Frodo asked anxiously, jumping up.
"Calm down, and sit down, Master Baggins. She shall recover with time and plenty of love. However…"
Sam blanched. When Dr. Bracegirdle said "however" it usually meant that all was not well, and would probably never be well again.
"However, the wound on her throat has caused some…well, it's caused some damage."
Frodo sat heavily in his chair. "Damage?" he echoed.
"Yes, damage. Some of her vocal cords were…well, you could say that they were 'snapped' by the Warg's teeth."
"'Snapped'?" Frodo echoed again. "What does that mean?"
"It means that she may never speak again. Since not all of them were damaged, she will be able to articulate some sounds, but speaking seems to be out of the question."
Frodo sighed. When he thought about how hard it had been to grow up with the ability to speak…why, he couldn't imagine growing up without it.
"Master Baggins, it seems to me that there is another matter here that we must discuss," Dr. Bracegirdle said, looking stern.
Frodo's heart sank, and he looked at her anxiously. "Yes?" he asked, his voice tight.
"This lass…well, I've never seen her before, and I've seen most of the young lads and lasses around here by this age. Samwise mentioned that you 'found' her being attacked by Wargs. Do you know where she comes from? Is she a runaway?"
Frodo sighed. "Of that we are not exactly sure, Dr. Bracegirdle. I have never seen her before either."
"Then, if I may ask, Master Baggins, what are you planning to do with her? You can not just turn her out once she is healed…she is only a small lass!"
"Oh no, Dr. Bracegirdle, you misunderstand me. I am not planning to turn her out; no, quite the contrary. I am planning on asking her to live here with me, until the time comes when she may live on her own with a family of her own."
Dr. Bracegirdle looked astonished, as did Sam. His master had said he was thinking about offering the child a home, but to make that decision without knowing the nature of the child…well, that just didn't sound like Mister Frodo at all!
Dr. Bracegirdle was the first to recover. "Well then, it seems my worries were unneeded. I can see that this child shall be well cared for. Now, here are some extra bandages - change the dressing on her wounds once a week. Now, I'll be on my way. If you require my services again, just send Marigold down to fetch me." With that, she picked up her bag and sailed out the door.
Sam was still sitting there, gaping at Frodo. He kept opening his mouth as if to say something and then closing again. Finally Frodo reached over and patted his hand.
"I understand your confusion, Sam," he said. "But I feel in my heart that this is the right thing to do. Besides," he laughed, "what would I do with Bag End all to my lonesome? This hobbit-lass will provide me with the companionship I need."
Sam looked hurt, and Frodo hastily added, "That you can not provide. Perhaps she may even learn from you in the skill of tending the gardens." He laughed ruthfully. "Valar knows I've never been able too."
Sam smiled. "Aye, that would be right-gut, sir. Now you go tend to her, and I shall put a luncheon together."
Frodo smiled back at him. "You are a wonderful hobbits, Samwise Gamgee. Thank you."
Sam blushed. "Oh Mister Frodo…now go on. Go check on the lass." Frodo smiled one last time and then headed down the hall.