The night ahead wasn't to be a restful one.  The other hobbits had wanted stories and wanted to ask questions to all the new guests of Bag End, but Sam had herded them off to bed early and told them to be good and quiet if they didn't want to get into any trouble.

 The night started out as being spent running from one room to the next, changing linens and pouring medicines down the throats of the young hobbits, only to be thrown up moments later and be made to try to go down them again.  Finally they decided to move the two sick hobbits to the same room, seeing as how if they were together they seemed to be more obliging to retaking medicines and having to almost continuously change their night clothes. 

As the night wore on their vomiting slowly started to cease, only for them to start shivering with chills that couldn't be stopped.  Sam had fetched them both three nightshirts each to wear and bundled them up in so many blankets that just the tips of their noses and their eyes were clearly showing.  Frodo laughed to himself, remembering all the times that Sam had done the same to a young Pippin and Merry. 

After what seemed like thousands of medicines to Merry, he started to feel a bit better.  He noticed that Poppy eyes were drooping and knew she must feel better enough to be able to sleep.  Frodo had went to Poppy once he knew that she was beginning to get tired and started stroking her curls, just as he had done to Pippin what seemed like just yesterday.  He noticed that Legolas had taken over stroking the young Brandybuck's neatly combed curly locks. Legolas started singing softly and Frodo felt himself begin to nod off.  This wasn't the first night home he had expected, but it wasn't a disappointment.