Thank you for all the holiday greetings, everyone! And Happy New Year!
Just a few responses, but I'm hugging you all...
A Elbereth: I think that was the longest chapter I've written for any story! It just wouldn't let me stop. (BTW, you may be struck dumb by all the reviews, but I'm black and blue from pinching myself so frequently to make sure this is really happening. Amazing.)
Ancalime, Bookworm, Ginger Ninja, MarigoldG, Nilmandra, Tathar, Tatl Alaria: Thank you for singling out the "silly" line. I loved coming up with that!
Ariel: High praise indeed. It's sometimes difficult to stay "true" when weaving an AU story, but I'll do my best not to stray.
Chianna: I very much appreciate your comments about Aragorn's character; it's a delicate balance to maintain in a story. (BTW, I adore the Mark Twain quote on your bio page. What a perfect piece of advice for any writer!)
Elanor: Ah, I would never bring Aragorn and Frodo together in such an unlikely situation and then keep them from interacting! (And don't fret; as my Summary states, nothing in this story should be interpreted as "slash".)
Eryniell, Frodolover, katakanadian, Scooter, Talking Hawk, Treehugger: I appreciate you mentioning how much you enjoyed the "little one" part; so did I!
GreyLadyBast: I'm so pleased that you like my depiction of Gandalf, especially since I'm not writing him as "perfect" and above reproach. (There may be further errors in judgment yet to come in this story, and not just by Gandalf.)
helga: Yes, I've read two fics where Frodo had appendicitis! They are "September" by ainur and "Trip to Michel Delving" by Arabella Thorne.
Juniper Holly: I appreciate your comments very much. LOTR is so special to me, and I would never give a story anything less than my heart, soul, and very careful writing. I try very hard to give each story (if not each chapter) something "new", where someone would think, "Hey, I never thought of *that* before." What an absolute delight to know that others are enjoying this.
Lina Skye: You're so kind to let me borrow "your Estel"; I'll take good care of him for you, I promise.
Lyta Padfoot: Many, many thanks for telling me about "Estel and the Hobbit" by Eledhwen. You're right, it's marvelous.
Meg Draco: Thanks for your e-mail, Meg! I appreciate hearing from you.
Nilmandra: You've anticipated one of the major plot points of this story (delirium); but not, as we'll find out, just *any* delirium --- swamp malaise is feared for a reason.
QTPie-2488: If I knew where my ideas came from, maybe I would relax and stop fretting about never having another one! I was positive that "Avalanche" would be the last story I would ever come up with. Now I'm positive that "Quarantined" will be. It's a wonder I get any sleep at all. (Hey, not getting any sleep.... one of the Fellowship with insomnia.... hallucinations.... anyone want a free story idea?)
Scooter: I'm just blushing... my own theme music?? Gracious!
Talking Hawk: Welcome back to ff.net! I just love your sweet, gentle (often zany) stories, and your sweet, gentle (always zany) reviews!
Treehugger: I *never* dreamed I would be the recipient of such an 'avalanche' of kind, encouraging reviews; I'm just stunned. And what a delight to be gifted with comments from the wondrous Treehugger. As I think I've said before, your reviews are so detailed and insightful, they're like having a conversation with a friend. You often single out something I spent hours (or days) working on, and what a joy that a special sentence or idea didn't go unnoticed. Thank you, nin mellon.
Woman of the Dunedain: I agree, the title of this story is far from clever! But folks are used to it now and, oh well...
AUTHOR NOTES: In S.R. 1391, Bilbo is 100 years old and Frodo is 22 (just barely into his "tweens"). AU story; however, what was Frodo's early life with Bilbo like? How did he meet Gandalf? Why was Aragorn so dedicated to the safeguarding of the Shire? Perhaps this tale can give possible answers to those questions.... I hope you enjoy it.
My thanks to the FrodoHealers website and its members for inspiration; additional thanks to Llinos and Marigold, for advice and encouragement.
PLEASE NOTE: I am not a medical professional and do not claim to be. This is a work of fiction. No medical treatment or description of illness in this story should be taken as anything more than the author's own opinions and plot devices.
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.
___________________________
QUARANTINED
Chapter 3 --- Entwined
S.R. 1391, April 27
When Bilbo awoke the next morning, he immediately dashed to Frodo's room to check on him. The boy's bed was empty. The kitchen showed signs of a hurried breakfast, and food, plates, and bowls were strewn about. Aragorn's tray was missing. Walking quietly back down the hallway, Bilbo heard hushed voices from the Man's room and he paused outside the door to listen.
"You cannot possibly be finished, Aragorn. How can anyone so big eat so little?"
"Frodo, I assure you that this is more food than I have seen in almost a week. Is this truly a normal breakfast for you? How can anyone so little eat so much?"
Bilbo smiled to himself as he heard Frodo's giggle.
"Would you kindly tell Bilbo that? He says I hardly eat anything. I know you can eat one more piece, Aragorn, don't make me call Gandalf in here." There was a pause. "That's better. You must tell us what you like so we can make it for you."
Bilbo looked into the room to see Frodo sitting next to Aragorn in the big bed. Both looked up at him so quickly that Bilbo nearly laughed; it was as if he had caught two truants at something they weren't supposed to be doing.
"Good morning, Aragorn," said Bilbo casually. "I was just wondering who left that fearful mess in the kitchen."
Aragorn grinned and made as if to hide Frodo behind him. "I cannot imagine, Bilbo! Surely no one in this room?"
Frodo swallowed a last bit of apple and hopped off the bed. "It must have been the trolls again, Bilbo," he said. "But *I* will clean up after them, don't you worry." With a backward smile at Aragorn, Frodo left the room.
"Bilbo," said Aragorn softly. "You must allow me to repay you for.... everything." He motioned to the nearly-empty tray in front of him. "Your stores will need replenishing soon, I imagine!"
Bilbo sat down next to the bed, shaking his head in amusement. "That is most gracious, Aragorn, but you are our guest. And besides...." Bilbo looked at him steadily. "Gandalf and I had quite an adventure once, and because of it.... well, I am not without means. You need not worry about anything while you are at Bag End."
"Bag End?"
Bilbo waved an arm about the room. "This is Bag End. Our home. Are the homes of Men not named?"
Aragorn smiled. "They are, indeed." Suddenly his smile faded and he shifted restlessly. "I cannot this abide this weakness, this lying about."
Bilbo looked at him shrewdly. "I suspect you have not often been ill."
"No."
"But as a healer, you must know the value of rest. I, too, had this very illness many years ago. It drained my strength as nothing else, and the body is slow to recover." Bilbo knew what a trial it must be for this warrior to lie abed. "One more day?"
The Man nodded. "Agreed. But---"
Bilbo rose to his feet. "You are recovering more quickly than most, but do not rush things." He stepped closer to the bed and lowered his voice. "Aragorn, there is little chance that Frodo will escape this illness, and it will be difficult for such an active lad to keep to his bed as he recovers." He gave the Man a slow smile. "You must set him a good example."
Aragorn nodded. "I will do so, my friend." He glanced at the table next to the bed and chuckled. "And Frodo has brought me so many of his books to read, I will certainly not be idle!"
While Frodo finished cleaning up the mess the 'trolls' had made in the kitchen, Bilbo began stirring together a delicious-looking cookie dough in a large, wooden bowl. When it was ready, he set the bowl on the table in front of Frodo, and went to the counter to get some large, flat pans.
Frodo sighed. "It's such a shame he's eating so little. How will he know how very wonderful your cooking is?"
"Let's bake these cookies into shapes he just can't resist, and perhaps he'll find out!"
Frodo laughed merrily. "You speak of him as if he was a child."
"Ah, but sick adults often need to be coaxed just like children, my boy."
Frodo thought about it. "Perhaps stars? His cloak has such a beautiful one. Aragorn said it was---" Suddenly he gasped and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, a shocked look on his face.
"Frodo-lad, what is it?"
After a few seconds, Frodo looked up at Bilbo, confused and a bit frightened. "I don't know, Bilbo. I suddenly felt so strange. I... I'm fine now."
Bilbo sat down next to Frodo, a wild fear growing in his heart. "You mean you felt dizzy?"
"Not dizzy, exactly, more like... like the room had suddenly turned upside down. And then it stopped." Frodo took a deep breath. "How odd. It was... oh!" He flung his arms around Bilbo's neck and squeezed his eyes shut. "Bilbo, make it stop!"
Bilbo put his arms around Frodo and forced his voice to remain calm. "Wrap your legs around me, that's it." The old hobbit rose quickly to his feet and carried the trembling tweenager to his room. He sat down on the bed and lay Frodo down gently. "Just lie still for awhile, all right? We'll see if the room stays in one place."
Frodo was staring up at his uncle with wide, terrified eyes. "Don't leave."
"Of course not," murmured Bilbo. He lay down next to the boy. "Shh, now. Just lie still."
"Bilbo," whispered Frodo. "If.. If I get sick, tell me what's going to happen."
Bilbo sighed, wondering how much to tell him. The memories of 75 years before came back as if it all had happened yesterday. He pulled the boy close, and kept his voice calm and quiet. "When I became ill," he began, "I was dizzy, and shivery, like you feel when you've being outside in the winter without a cloak. Then I felt very hot for awhile. I was sick for several days, very achy and sleepy. But then I got well again, like Aragorn has been getting well." Bilbo didn't want to scare the boy further by telling him that he had become delirious with fever. He had been terrified by images that could not have been real, but were so vivid that he still remembered them clearly.
"If you do get sick, Frodo, you'll need to stay in bed and let us take care of you. You must do everything we say."
Frodo gasped and squeezed his eyes shut again, burying his head in Bilbo's chest. Bilbo wrapped himself around Frodo as tightly as he could until the bout of vertigo passed and he felt the child relax.
"If you feel anything else strange or uncomfortable, you must tell me, or Gandalf," Bilbo said. "Promise?"
"I promise," said Frodo. "M. . Maybe I do feel.. a little shivery, Bilbo. But just a little bit."
"Scoot under the blankets and I'll bring in that thick quilt of mine that you like so much." Frodo got under his blankets, and Bilbo covered him up to his chin and smiled at him. "I'll be right back."
Bilbo kept a smile on his face until he had gone three steps into the hallway. Then he leaned weakly against the wall and found that he was shaking with fear.
Aragorn didn't know he had fallen asleep until he awoke about an hour later to rustlings, whispers, Gandalf's hushed voice somewhere nearby.
"... him more comfortable.... healthy youngster, Bilbo, no need to think..... be up and about in no time.... come now, compose yourself before we go in, so you don't frighten him further."
"No," Aragorn whispered. He sat up slowly, bracing himself against the dizziness he still felt. Rising shakily to his feet, he stooped low as he made his way down the hallway toward the voices.
".... but tonight you were going to tell me the Elvish greetings and....."
"And I still can, my dear lad. Here's, let's slip in one more hot water bottle and see if that helps."
"I'm s. . sorry, Bilbo."
"We'll have no more of that, Frodo-lad; you haven't done anything wrong." Aragorn heard Bilbo's voice grow softer, gentle and loving. "There we go, all tucked in. You'll be warm in no time. Close your eyes and try to sleep a bit; we'll both be here to tend to you."
Aragorn stopped in the doorway, nearly undone by the sight of the tiny, shivering form in the bed.
"I will tend to him as well."
Gandalf turned around and frowned at him. "You should not be out of bed," he chided.
Aragorn walked unsteadily over to Frodo's small bed and knelt beside it. "This child is ill because of me, Gandalf. I will do everything I can for him."
"M'not a child," whispered a tiny voice.
Aragorn touched the lad's face; it was warm, but the fever had no doubt just begun to rise. As he knew too well, chills were just the beginning. Frodo slowly opened his eyes.
"Aragorn," Frodo murmured. "I'm so cold."
"I know," said Aragorn, smiling at him. "I, too, was so cold, Frodo, and I was all alone in the woods until Gandalf found me. But you are *not* alone. We are all here to care for you until you are well."
Frodo shuddered as a fit of chills shook him. "What.... what were you doing in the woods?"
Aragorn gently stroked Frodo's face. "There'll be plenty of time for stories. So you're learning Elvish? I grew up among Elves, Frodo, and perhaps I can help a bit with your lessons. Would you like that?"
"Very much," Frodo whispered. "But you..... you were out there..... all alone?" He slid his tiny hand into the Man's big one. He wanted to say something else, but his head was swimming and it was too hard to concentrate.
Aragorn was greatly moved by Frodo's distress over the fact that he had been sick and alone in the woods. He leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly to Frodo's forehead, humbled by the compassionate heart that beat within this child. The lad's only thought was to comfort *him* --- a stranger who had thus far brought him nothing but misery.
"Rest now, little one."
Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a look; that these two had strongly bonded, in such a short time, could not be denied. It was obvious that Frodo felt perfectly safe and comfortable in Aragorn's presence; and the Man's gentle manner and concern for Frodo dispelled any last, lingering doubts Bilbo had felt about having this heavily armed stranger in his home.
Overcome by the rising fever, the shivering boy closed his eyes and slipped into a light sleep.
Aragorn rose to his feet and nearly lost his balance.
"Help him back to bed, Gandalf," said Bilbo. "I'll get Frodo undressed and into some bedclothes." He sat down next to Frodo and pressed his hand to the boy's forehead. "He's in for a difficult time, I fear. In a while, I'll prepare some teas for muscle aches and such." He sighed. "My poor lad."
The wizard pulled Aragorn out of Frodo's room and led him back to his own, helping him down onto the bed.
The Man pressed a shaking hand to his head. "A room should not be permitted to spin about so relentlessly," he muttered. He took a deep breath. "Get a fire started in Frodo's room. Keep it going as long as he is chilled. Warmed drinks should help. And I need to know what teas and herbs Bilbo has on hand."
"I will see to it."
"Athelas might help to strengthen him, but I would not know where to begin to look for any in the Shire."
The wizard sighed. "It is unlikely that any athelas is to be found in this part of Eriador. I will consult with Bilbo's gardener; if there is athelas in this area, by any name, I suspect he would know of it. I will also inquire of the local healers; perhaps they keep a supply of it, although I would rather not reveal why it is needed. Any word of this illness would cause a panic."
"I cannot bear it, Gandalf. There is neither anger nor blame in that child's eyes, nor his uncle's --- only fear, and trust in us. How can any hearts be so open and accepting?"
"Now you know, Dúnadan," said Gandalf quietly. Aragorn looked up, startled to hear the wizard call him by that name.
"Now you know," the wizard repeated, looking at him intently. "That is the Shire, Aragorn--- that child. That trust, that innocence, that gentle, simple life; this is what I have asked you to guard and preserve."
Aragorn nodded slowly. "I understand." It was as if he could still feel the tiny, warm fingers entwined in his own, and he knew that something inside him had changed forever. "I did not know there were such folk as these left in the world." He looked at the wizard, his eyes blazing. "I swear to you, Gandalf, that the Dúnedain will not fail to protect the Shire from intrusion. This land will be kept safe, and the halflings will know only peace."
"Hobbits," Gandalf corrected gently.
Aragorn smiled at him. "Hobbits."
** TBC **
Just a few responses, but I'm hugging you all...
A Elbereth: I think that was the longest chapter I've written for any story! It just wouldn't let me stop. (BTW, you may be struck dumb by all the reviews, but I'm black and blue from pinching myself so frequently to make sure this is really happening. Amazing.)
Ancalime, Bookworm, Ginger Ninja, MarigoldG, Nilmandra, Tathar, Tatl Alaria: Thank you for singling out the "silly" line. I loved coming up with that!
Ariel: High praise indeed. It's sometimes difficult to stay "true" when weaving an AU story, but I'll do my best not to stray.
Chianna: I very much appreciate your comments about Aragorn's character; it's a delicate balance to maintain in a story. (BTW, I adore the Mark Twain quote on your bio page. What a perfect piece of advice for any writer!)
Elanor: Ah, I would never bring Aragorn and Frodo together in such an unlikely situation and then keep them from interacting! (And don't fret; as my Summary states, nothing in this story should be interpreted as "slash".)
Eryniell, Frodolover, katakanadian, Scooter, Talking Hawk, Treehugger: I appreciate you mentioning how much you enjoyed the "little one" part; so did I!
GreyLadyBast: I'm so pleased that you like my depiction of Gandalf, especially since I'm not writing him as "perfect" and above reproach. (There may be further errors in judgment yet to come in this story, and not just by Gandalf.)
helga: Yes, I've read two fics where Frodo had appendicitis! They are "September" by ainur and "Trip to Michel Delving" by Arabella Thorne.
Juniper Holly: I appreciate your comments very much. LOTR is so special to me, and I would never give a story anything less than my heart, soul, and very careful writing. I try very hard to give each story (if not each chapter) something "new", where someone would think, "Hey, I never thought of *that* before." What an absolute delight to know that others are enjoying this.
Lina Skye: You're so kind to let me borrow "your Estel"; I'll take good care of him for you, I promise.
Lyta Padfoot: Many, many thanks for telling me about "Estel and the Hobbit" by Eledhwen. You're right, it's marvelous.
Meg Draco: Thanks for your e-mail, Meg! I appreciate hearing from you.
Nilmandra: You've anticipated one of the major plot points of this story (delirium); but not, as we'll find out, just *any* delirium --- swamp malaise is feared for a reason.
QTPie-2488: If I knew where my ideas came from, maybe I would relax and stop fretting about never having another one! I was positive that "Avalanche" would be the last story I would ever come up with. Now I'm positive that "Quarantined" will be. It's a wonder I get any sleep at all. (Hey, not getting any sleep.... one of the Fellowship with insomnia.... hallucinations.... anyone want a free story idea?)
Scooter: I'm just blushing... my own theme music?? Gracious!
Talking Hawk: Welcome back to ff.net! I just love your sweet, gentle (often zany) stories, and your sweet, gentle (always zany) reviews!
Treehugger: I *never* dreamed I would be the recipient of such an 'avalanche' of kind, encouraging reviews; I'm just stunned. And what a delight to be gifted with comments from the wondrous Treehugger. As I think I've said before, your reviews are so detailed and insightful, they're like having a conversation with a friend. You often single out something I spent hours (or days) working on, and what a joy that a special sentence or idea didn't go unnoticed. Thank you, nin mellon.
Woman of the Dunedain: I agree, the title of this story is far from clever! But folks are used to it now and, oh well...
AUTHOR NOTES: In S.R. 1391, Bilbo is 100 years old and Frodo is 22 (just barely into his "tweens"). AU story; however, what was Frodo's early life with Bilbo like? How did he meet Gandalf? Why was Aragorn so dedicated to the safeguarding of the Shire? Perhaps this tale can give possible answers to those questions.... I hope you enjoy it.
My thanks to the FrodoHealers website and its members for inspiration; additional thanks to Llinos and Marigold, for advice and encouragement.
PLEASE NOTE: I am not a medical professional and do not claim to be. This is a work of fiction. No medical treatment or description of illness in this story should be taken as anything more than the author's own opinions and plot devices.
DISCLAIMER: Of course. The characters don't belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.
___________________________
QUARANTINED
Chapter 3 --- Entwined
S.R. 1391, April 27
When Bilbo awoke the next morning, he immediately dashed to Frodo's room to check on him. The boy's bed was empty. The kitchen showed signs of a hurried breakfast, and food, plates, and bowls were strewn about. Aragorn's tray was missing. Walking quietly back down the hallway, Bilbo heard hushed voices from the Man's room and he paused outside the door to listen.
"You cannot possibly be finished, Aragorn. How can anyone so big eat so little?"
"Frodo, I assure you that this is more food than I have seen in almost a week. Is this truly a normal breakfast for you? How can anyone so little eat so much?"
Bilbo smiled to himself as he heard Frodo's giggle.
"Would you kindly tell Bilbo that? He says I hardly eat anything. I know you can eat one more piece, Aragorn, don't make me call Gandalf in here." There was a pause. "That's better. You must tell us what you like so we can make it for you."
Bilbo looked into the room to see Frodo sitting next to Aragorn in the big bed. Both looked up at him so quickly that Bilbo nearly laughed; it was as if he had caught two truants at something they weren't supposed to be doing.
"Good morning, Aragorn," said Bilbo casually. "I was just wondering who left that fearful mess in the kitchen."
Aragorn grinned and made as if to hide Frodo behind him. "I cannot imagine, Bilbo! Surely no one in this room?"
Frodo swallowed a last bit of apple and hopped off the bed. "It must have been the trolls again, Bilbo," he said. "But *I* will clean up after them, don't you worry." With a backward smile at Aragorn, Frodo left the room.
"Bilbo," said Aragorn softly. "You must allow me to repay you for.... everything." He motioned to the nearly-empty tray in front of him. "Your stores will need replenishing soon, I imagine!"
Bilbo sat down next to the bed, shaking his head in amusement. "That is most gracious, Aragorn, but you are our guest. And besides...." Bilbo looked at him steadily. "Gandalf and I had quite an adventure once, and because of it.... well, I am not without means. You need not worry about anything while you are at Bag End."
"Bag End?"
Bilbo waved an arm about the room. "This is Bag End. Our home. Are the homes of Men not named?"
Aragorn smiled. "They are, indeed." Suddenly his smile faded and he shifted restlessly. "I cannot this abide this weakness, this lying about."
Bilbo looked at him shrewdly. "I suspect you have not often been ill."
"No."
"But as a healer, you must know the value of rest. I, too, had this very illness many years ago. It drained my strength as nothing else, and the body is slow to recover." Bilbo knew what a trial it must be for this warrior to lie abed. "One more day?"
The Man nodded. "Agreed. But---"
Bilbo rose to his feet. "You are recovering more quickly than most, but do not rush things." He stepped closer to the bed and lowered his voice. "Aragorn, there is little chance that Frodo will escape this illness, and it will be difficult for such an active lad to keep to his bed as he recovers." He gave the Man a slow smile. "You must set him a good example."
Aragorn nodded. "I will do so, my friend." He glanced at the table next to the bed and chuckled. "And Frodo has brought me so many of his books to read, I will certainly not be idle!"
While Frodo finished cleaning up the mess the 'trolls' had made in the kitchen, Bilbo began stirring together a delicious-looking cookie dough in a large, wooden bowl. When it was ready, he set the bowl on the table in front of Frodo, and went to the counter to get some large, flat pans.
Frodo sighed. "It's such a shame he's eating so little. How will he know how very wonderful your cooking is?"
"Let's bake these cookies into shapes he just can't resist, and perhaps he'll find out!"
Frodo laughed merrily. "You speak of him as if he was a child."
"Ah, but sick adults often need to be coaxed just like children, my boy."
Frodo thought about it. "Perhaps stars? His cloak has such a beautiful one. Aragorn said it was---" Suddenly he gasped and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, a shocked look on his face.
"Frodo-lad, what is it?"
After a few seconds, Frodo looked up at Bilbo, confused and a bit frightened. "I don't know, Bilbo. I suddenly felt so strange. I... I'm fine now."
Bilbo sat down next to Frodo, a wild fear growing in his heart. "You mean you felt dizzy?"
"Not dizzy, exactly, more like... like the room had suddenly turned upside down. And then it stopped." Frodo took a deep breath. "How odd. It was... oh!" He flung his arms around Bilbo's neck and squeezed his eyes shut. "Bilbo, make it stop!"
Bilbo put his arms around Frodo and forced his voice to remain calm. "Wrap your legs around me, that's it." The old hobbit rose quickly to his feet and carried the trembling tweenager to his room. He sat down on the bed and lay Frodo down gently. "Just lie still for awhile, all right? We'll see if the room stays in one place."
Frodo was staring up at his uncle with wide, terrified eyes. "Don't leave."
"Of course not," murmured Bilbo. He lay down next to the boy. "Shh, now. Just lie still."
"Bilbo," whispered Frodo. "If.. If I get sick, tell me what's going to happen."
Bilbo sighed, wondering how much to tell him. The memories of 75 years before came back as if it all had happened yesterday. He pulled the boy close, and kept his voice calm and quiet. "When I became ill," he began, "I was dizzy, and shivery, like you feel when you've being outside in the winter without a cloak. Then I felt very hot for awhile. I was sick for several days, very achy and sleepy. But then I got well again, like Aragorn has been getting well." Bilbo didn't want to scare the boy further by telling him that he had become delirious with fever. He had been terrified by images that could not have been real, but were so vivid that he still remembered them clearly.
"If you do get sick, Frodo, you'll need to stay in bed and let us take care of you. You must do everything we say."
Frodo gasped and squeezed his eyes shut again, burying his head in Bilbo's chest. Bilbo wrapped himself around Frodo as tightly as he could until the bout of vertigo passed and he felt the child relax.
"If you feel anything else strange or uncomfortable, you must tell me, or Gandalf," Bilbo said. "Promise?"
"I promise," said Frodo. "M. . Maybe I do feel.. a little shivery, Bilbo. But just a little bit."
"Scoot under the blankets and I'll bring in that thick quilt of mine that you like so much." Frodo got under his blankets, and Bilbo covered him up to his chin and smiled at him. "I'll be right back."
Bilbo kept a smile on his face until he had gone three steps into the hallway. Then he leaned weakly against the wall and found that he was shaking with fear.
Aragorn didn't know he had fallen asleep until he awoke about an hour later to rustlings, whispers, Gandalf's hushed voice somewhere nearby.
"... him more comfortable.... healthy youngster, Bilbo, no need to think..... be up and about in no time.... come now, compose yourself before we go in, so you don't frighten him further."
"No," Aragorn whispered. He sat up slowly, bracing himself against the dizziness he still felt. Rising shakily to his feet, he stooped low as he made his way down the hallway toward the voices.
".... but tonight you were going to tell me the Elvish greetings and....."
"And I still can, my dear lad. Here's, let's slip in one more hot water bottle and see if that helps."
"I'm s. . sorry, Bilbo."
"We'll have no more of that, Frodo-lad; you haven't done anything wrong." Aragorn heard Bilbo's voice grow softer, gentle and loving. "There we go, all tucked in. You'll be warm in no time. Close your eyes and try to sleep a bit; we'll both be here to tend to you."
Aragorn stopped in the doorway, nearly undone by the sight of the tiny, shivering form in the bed.
"I will tend to him as well."
Gandalf turned around and frowned at him. "You should not be out of bed," he chided.
Aragorn walked unsteadily over to Frodo's small bed and knelt beside it. "This child is ill because of me, Gandalf. I will do everything I can for him."
"M'not a child," whispered a tiny voice.
Aragorn touched the lad's face; it was warm, but the fever had no doubt just begun to rise. As he knew too well, chills were just the beginning. Frodo slowly opened his eyes.
"Aragorn," Frodo murmured. "I'm so cold."
"I know," said Aragorn, smiling at him. "I, too, was so cold, Frodo, and I was all alone in the woods until Gandalf found me. But you are *not* alone. We are all here to care for you until you are well."
Frodo shuddered as a fit of chills shook him. "What.... what were you doing in the woods?"
Aragorn gently stroked Frodo's face. "There'll be plenty of time for stories. So you're learning Elvish? I grew up among Elves, Frodo, and perhaps I can help a bit with your lessons. Would you like that?"
"Very much," Frodo whispered. "But you..... you were out there..... all alone?" He slid his tiny hand into the Man's big one. He wanted to say something else, but his head was swimming and it was too hard to concentrate.
Aragorn was greatly moved by Frodo's distress over the fact that he had been sick and alone in the woods. He leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly to Frodo's forehead, humbled by the compassionate heart that beat within this child. The lad's only thought was to comfort *him* --- a stranger who had thus far brought him nothing but misery.
"Rest now, little one."
Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a look; that these two had strongly bonded, in such a short time, could not be denied. It was obvious that Frodo felt perfectly safe and comfortable in Aragorn's presence; and the Man's gentle manner and concern for Frodo dispelled any last, lingering doubts Bilbo had felt about having this heavily armed stranger in his home.
Overcome by the rising fever, the shivering boy closed his eyes and slipped into a light sleep.
Aragorn rose to his feet and nearly lost his balance.
"Help him back to bed, Gandalf," said Bilbo. "I'll get Frodo undressed and into some bedclothes." He sat down next to Frodo and pressed his hand to the boy's forehead. "He's in for a difficult time, I fear. In a while, I'll prepare some teas for muscle aches and such." He sighed. "My poor lad."
The wizard pulled Aragorn out of Frodo's room and led him back to his own, helping him down onto the bed.
The Man pressed a shaking hand to his head. "A room should not be permitted to spin about so relentlessly," he muttered. He took a deep breath. "Get a fire started in Frodo's room. Keep it going as long as he is chilled. Warmed drinks should help. And I need to know what teas and herbs Bilbo has on hand."
"I will see to it."
"Athelas might help to strengthen him, but I would not know where to begin to look for any in the Shire."
The wizard sighed. "It is unlikely that any athelas is to be found in this part of Eriador. I will consult with Bilbo's gardener; if there is athelas in this area, by any name, I suspect he would know of it. I will also inquire of the local healers; perhaps they keep a supply of it, although I would rather not reveal why it is needed. Any word of this illness would cause a panic."
"I cannot bear it, Gandalf. There is neither anger nor blame in that child's eyes, nor his uncle's --- only fear, and trust in us. How can any hearts be so open and accepting?"
"Now you know, Dúnadan," said Gandalf quietly. Aragorn looked up, startled to hear the wizard call him by that name.
"Now you know," the wizard repeated, looking at him intently. "That is the Shire, Aragorn--- that child. That trust, that innocence, that gentle, simple life; this is what I have asked you to guard and preserve."
Aragorn nodded slowly. "I understand." It was as if he could still feel the tiny, warm fingers entwined in his own, and he knew that something inside him had changed forever. "I did not know there were such folk as these left in the world." He looked at the wizard, his eyes blazing. "I swear to you, Gandalf, that the Dúnedain will not fail to protect the Shire from intrusion. This land will be kept safe, and the halflings will know only peace."
"Hobbits," Gandalf corrected gently.
Aragorn smiled at him. "Hobbits."
** TBC **