FantasyFan - Lotho is definitely not the kind of friend anyone needs. Merry will certainly be watching over Frodo, but alas, only for a short time. Lotho is absolutely no match for Bilbo in any sense, and deep down he knows it.
LotRseer3350 - Lotho does have a couple more tricks to pull, the nastier of which will have unforeseen consequences, even for him!
Bookworm2000 - I'm afraid Merry won't be but a few days in Hobbiton, but he will be an immense comfort to Frodo while he's there, and he'll get to meet Sam! Lotho may inflame your wrath further yet. Give him time!
Camellia - Gamgee - Took - Will Lotho ever learn? Doubtful! You'll see Merry and Saradoc at Bag End in this chapter.
Endymion2 - It would be nice to just be allowed to rest when all heck is breaking loose. Here's a hint. Push your bed close to the wall and take the inside. That way, your husband is closest to the action and he'll have to take care of whatever's happening or endure you crawling over him! Nobody needs a friend like Lotho. We're getting closer to the nasty trick that, in my opinion, makes this story interesting.
Aratlithiel - Lotho will use anything available against Frodo, including the lad's own kind heart. Poor Frodo. We'll cheer him up soon!
FrodoBaggins1982 - If only Frodo had some of Lotho's duplicity in him, he might see the truth for what it really is. Unfortunately, he's so kind and innocent, he has a hard time believing his own kin could be so awful to him. The protective Sam we know and love is taking shape here.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 12 - Reunion
~*~Late night, Bag End~*~
Bilbo carefully mopped Frodo's forehead with the cool, damp cloth. The day had passed slowly, or so it seemed, with Bilbo and Sam watching over Frodo as he slept and helping him to sit upright when he found breathing difficult. Sam was in the next room, exhausted and sound asleep.
Bilbo had given Frodo some of the healer's tea. The sedatives were allowing the tween to sleep and thereby escape at least some of his discomfort. The fever had dropped from its dangerous peak, but had yet to break. Thankfully, Frodo had not become delirious again, but he was weakened and so dizzy he couldn't even walk to the privy without support.
Bilbo sighed, and his brow creased with worry. "Frodo, lad," he whispered to the sleeping figure under the comforter, "if only I could make you well by merely wishing it to be." If such power could ever be given to him, Bilbo would ensure that Frodo never took ill again. "But I'm just an eccentric old hobbit, and my wishes will not turn the tides."
Frodo's chest heaved and a coughing fit wracked him, waking him rudely from his slumber. Bilbo thumped him on the back as Frodo fought for air between waves of painful coughs. When the spell had passed, Bilbo wrapped his arms around Frodo and just held him.
"Oh, my poor dear boy," he said as he rubbed Frodo's back. The doorbell rang, and Bilbo reluctantly released Frodo from his embrace. "Rest easy, lad. I'll be right back," Bilbo promised as he made his way to the front door.
He opened it to find Merry and Saradoc there, anxious and red - faced from the cold. "Thank the Valar you've come," Bilbo said as he ushered them inside. "Where are your packs?"
"Master Gamgee will bring them when he's seen to the pony and the cart. A good fellow, Hamfast," Saradoc remarked, trying to ease the tension he saw in Bilbo's posture and countenance. "Frodo - how is he?"
Merry looked at Bilbo pleadingly. "Can I see him? Please, Uncle?"
"Frodo is still feverish and he coughs until he's just worn out," Bilbo informed them. "He's been sleeping as he can, but he's very uncomfortable. Please let me take your coats and you may see him, certainly."
Bilbo hung up the travelers' garments and led them down the hall to Frodo's room. "I've given him a sedative the healer brought," Bilbo explained as they neared the room. "If he isn't having a coughing spell, he's likely to be asleep."
Merry entered the room first and was dismayed to see his favorite cousin's listlessness and pallor. He stood by the bed gazing numbly at Frodo as Saradoc laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Fear not, Merry. Frodo will be all right," Saradoc said softly. "You know how strong he is."
Merry nodded. He had seen his cousin through many harsh trials, and he had no doubt of Frodo's tenacity and determination. But how much help were those traits against something like this, he wondered? Frodo could strike back against a physical enemy, but what kind of battle was he fighting now? One Merry couldn't help him win, at least not directly, the young hobbit thought sadly.
"May I stay here for a while with him, please?" Merry asked quietly.
"Yes, Merry, if you wish," Bilbo told him. "Your father and I will be in the parlor. Call us if Frodo needs anything."
"I will," Merry answered, turning his attention back to his cousin as Bilbo and Saradoc left the room. Frodo had drifted off again, and Merry gently took his hand. It felt cold and clammy, and Merry rubbed it gently to warm it.
"Frodo," he said softly, "Do you remember the time I got so sick when I was little?" Merry knew Frodo didn't hear him, and he didn't expect an answer. He continued speaking just the same. "You wouldn't leave my room, no matter how much anyone pleaded or threatened. You just stayed there, and they had to bring your meals to you. You practically moved in," Merry said, smiling at the memory.
"You were the last person I saw when I fell asleep at night, and the first one there when I woke up in the morning." Frodo's hand felt warmer, and Merry gently laid it back against the covers. "When I was awake and I felt so terrible, you distracted me by reading me stories, and even making some stories up on the spot. You're so good at those things, Frodo, much better than I am." Merry frowned to himself. "I'm not sure what I'm good at yet, but I'll know someday."
Merry had been staring off at nothing as he said those words, and he didn't see Frodo open his eyes and look at him. A voice so thin and raspy he hardly recognized it rose from the heap of covers and pillows.
"You're good at being a friend, Mer."
Merry's eyes darted to Frodo's and remained there. "Frodo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Merry said, pulling the chair closer to the bed.
"I'm glad you did, Merry. I thought I was dreaming, but it's really you." Frodo's brow creased as he struggled against the headache that no remedy had been able to dull. "When did you get here?"
"Just a short while ago," Merry answered. "Uncle Bilbo sent for us. He's so worried about you, Frodo. I can see it in his eyes." Merry felt tears welling in his own eyes and he didn't hold them back. "I'm worried about you too."
"Well I'll have to get better then," Frodo said, forcing a smile. "It won't do to have Bag End filled with worried hobbits." The sentence was punctuated with a series of coughs, and Merry reached for the pitcher on the table. He filled a glass with water and handed it to Frodo.
"Are you feeling any better?" Merry asked hopefully.
"A little," Frodo answered. "But I still feel awful. My head hurts and I'm dizzy. I don't feel much like eating anything, and my throat hurts terribly."
"You should go back to sleep then," Merry said as he fluffed up the pillows. "I'm going to stay right here, I promise." He wondered how it was that Frodo had become so ill, but now was not the time to press for details.
"Thank you," Frodo said as he let his eyes drift closed again. Within minutes, he was asleep once again, under the watchful gaze of his younger cousin.
~*~
"Bilbo fidgeted with his pipe as he and Saradoc sat by the fire catching up on recent events, including Frodo's dip in the pond. "I can't find the words to say how much the lad means to me, Sara," Bilbo said haltingly. "If I lose him - Oh! But I can't!" Pent up emotions writhed to the surface as Bilbo gave voice to the fears he had held in silence since Frodo had fallen ill. "I couldn't bear it, Saradoc. He's been here only a short time, but he's so much in my heart, as if he's always been here."
Saradoc nodded. He'd always known that somehow the bond between Frodo and the aged hobbit was special. "Love is never an easy thing, Bilbo," he said with a sigh. "Nothing worthwhile ever is." He lit his pipe and reached for Bilbo's. "You're blaming yourself, I can tell."
Bilbo looked at Saradoc sharply. "If anyone is to blame it is I, for not having been more vigilant. Something ill is afoot here, I feel it!"
"What do you feel, Bilbo?" Saradoc regarded Bilbo curiously.
"I think petty jealousies and greedy notions are to blame for Frodo's condition. The Sackville - Bagginses want to get their hands on Bag End so badly they can think of little else." Bilbo's gaze narrowed. "And Lotho has been conspicuous by his presence every time something untoward has happened to Frodo lately. That boy is devious and mean, and I think he feels threatened by Frodo's presence here."
"Hmmph," Saradoc snorted. "That would be quite in character for the lad, I must admit. But what reason has Lotho to feel threatened at this time? You haven't spoken of your intentions to adopt Frodo, have you?"
"Not yet," Bilbo admitted. "It is my intention that the Sackville - Bagginses will not know of that until the documents are signed and finalized."
"A good plan, I believe," Saradoc said, nodding approval. "They need not know anything more than that Frodo is living here for the time being. Have you any proof that Lotho is behind any of the mishaps?"
Bilbo frowned. "Only the toss - ball incident. That was quite plainly Lotho's doing. I've no proof of anything further, but my intuition tells me Lotho had something to do with Frodo ending up in the pond." He glowered into the fire as he puffed on his pipe. "Eru help him if I am able to prove him responsible."
"Let us worry about that later, Bilbo. Right now our chief concern is Frodo." Saradoc looked down the hallway that led to the lad's room. "Merry was beside himself when your letter arrived. We couldn't get here fast enough to suit him."
"Yes, I can imagine," Bilbo said, thinking of how devoted Merry had always been to Frodo. "Perhaps my note made things sound worse than they really are, but you should have seen him when the fever peaked, Sara." Fear stole into the hobbit's eyes and voice. "He didn't know us, and he fought us to the limit of his strength as Mrs. Gamgee and I tried to get him into the bath to cool him down. I don't know who he thought we were, but after his recent experiences, I have some guesses."
Saradoc nodded. "A high fever can cause hallucinations, among other things. It was wise of you to immerse him in a cool bath."
"It was Mrs. Gamgee's idea," Bilbo said, thinking of how much experience Bell had with children in all states of health and illness. "I didn't know what to do. I was at a loss, Sara."
"Some things must be learned as they are experienced, Bilbo. Nobody is born knowing such things, but we learn from those around us." Saradoc smiled encouragingly. "Do you think I had any notion of what to do the first time Merry took ill? I was quite new at parenting, and was rather out of my element if I may say so. The women took over and insisted that I stay out from under foot while they cared for him. My role was reduced to amusing him when he grew bored of long days in bed with nothing to occupy him."
"And I haven't the luxury of a crowd of women folk to push me out of the way, it's true," Bilbo admitted. "But I felt so helpless, Sara. I still do. There the poor lad is, sicker than I would ever wish even my worst enemy to be, and I can do nothing but watch and wait."
"And we watch and wait together," Saradoc said as he added a log to the fire. "You and Mrs. Gamgee have done very well by Frodo. There is no need for any self - recrimination or regrets, Bilbo." Saradoc looked directly into Bilbo's eyes. "Love can do remarkable things, believe me. There is enough love here to pull Frodo through this and so much more."
"I do hope you're right," Bilbo said wearily as he let his gaze wander down the hallway.
~*~
Sam woke with a start. He thought he had heard voices in Frodo's room. Who was there, and why? Was Frodo in danger? His worries snapped him to alertness in an instant, and he hurried the short distance to Frodo's room. Upon reaching the doorway, he was startled to see another hobbit near his age sitting in the chair and watching over the ailing tween.
"Beggin' your pardon, but how is he?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low.
Merry looked up, startled by the newcomer. "He's still got a fever, and he said his head hurts," Merry answered. Who was this lad in the doorway? He remembered Frodo's letter and a name came to him. "You must be Sam."
Sam nodded. "That's me. Are you Frodo's cousin?"
Merry nodded. "Meriadoc Brandybuck. It's a pleasure to meet you, although I wish we were meeting under different circumstances. You can call me Merry. Everybody does."
Sam colored and reminded himself that this lad was the son of the Master of Buckland. "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Merry," Sam replied, settling for familiarity merged with respect. "Mr. Frodo has naught but the best to say of you, no mistake."
"He told me a lot of good things about you in his letters," Merry answered, motioning for Sam to come into the room. "Is it true that you're going to be Uncle Bilbo's gardener someday?"
"Yes sir, if he'll have me, that is," Sam said modestly. "Me da takes care of the garden now, but his joints are fair stiffened some days. He's taught me a good bit about gardening, he has."
"That's a big garden, too," Merry commented as he stood up to peer out the window into the darkness. "Is it all flowers and bushes, or do you grow vegetables?"
For the next half hour or so, Sam told Merry about the garden, and Merry answered Sam's shy questions about Brandy Hall. Frodo slept on despite the quiet conversation.
~*~
The doorbell sounded again, and Bilbo greeted Bell and Hamfast Gamgee.
"We know it's late and all, but we thought we would stop by to see how Mr. Frodo is faring," Hamfast explained. "And I reckon it's time we fetched Samwise home for a spell." The Gaffer looked at Bilbo earnestly. "He's not been under foot and makin' a nuisance of himself, has he Mr. Bilbo?"
"Far from it, Hamfast," Bilbo assured him. "He's been both a great help to me and a comfort to Frodo." Bilbo led the way down the hall. "Sam was resting a while ago, but like as not we'll find him in Frodo's room."
Bilbo's assessment was accurate, and Sam was indeed seated at the foot of the bed, talking quietly with Merry.
"Time to make for home, Samwise," Bell said softly. "Mr. Frodo has plenty of company for the moment, and you need a proper rest in your own bed."
Sam nodded. "Yes, ma. This is Mr. Frodo's cousin, Mr. Meriadoc Brandybuck from Buckland," Sam gestured to Merry.
"How do you do," Bell said with a polite nod to Merry. Having already met Merry and Saradoc outside earlier, Hamfast followed suit as Sam stood up and made ready to leave with them. Bell walked to the bedside and gazed down at Frodo as he slept. "You just rest easy, poor dear," she whispered. "Poor lad's had a time of it these past few days, he has."
Merry was heartened by the kindness in Bell's eyes and voice. If Frodo were surrounded by such good folk as the Gamgees, he should be happy at Bag End indeed. He suddenly felt much better about Frodo's decision to move to Hobbiton, and he smiled.
The Gamgees took their leave, a reluctant Samwise trailing behind his parents.
"I fear we've neglected our supper with all the excitement this evening, Merry," Bilbo said. "I'm tempted to wake Frodo to see if he has any interest in eating, but he needs to rest as well," he noted. An idea struck him and he looked at Merry again. "Would you like to take your supper here while you watch over Frodo? If he should wake and ask for something, you could come and tell me."
"That would be fine, Uncle," Merry replied. "I don't want to leave him right now, for supper or anything else," he said protectively.
The late supper came and went, and the nighttime hours lengthened slowly on. Merry insisted on keeping the vigil, and promised to wake everyone if anything changed, for good or ill. Through the night, Frodo woke occasionally, and Merry did his best to make his cousin comfortable, praying that the worst of the illness had passed.
~*~Bag End, early morning~*~
Merry woke and rubbed his eyes. When he realized he'd fallen asleep, he silently cursed himself for not remaining alert. What if Frodo had needed him? He looked at Frodo anxiously in the dim light of the candle on the bedside table. Frodo looked so still, so pale. For a moment, Merry felt fear grip him and he reached out to brush his Fingers across his cousin's forehead.
Frodo's skin was cool to the touch, though not cold, and Merry's heart leapt with hope. He bent low over Frodo's chest and listened to his breathing, which was quiet and even, not as congested as it had been. In a flash, Merry ran from the room, calling out in his gladness.
"Uncle Bilbo! Da, come quick!" he shouted as he ran down the hallway. Bilbo and Saradoc had both fallen asleep in the parlor, not wanting the closed door of a bedroom to stand between them and news of Frodo's condition. They came alert instantly at the sound of Merry's voice, leaping to their feet.
"What is it, Merry?" Bilbo said urgently as Merry nearly ran him down in his haste to deliver the good news.
"It's Frodo! His fever's broken! Frodo's getting better!"
A look of pure joy and boundless relief spread across Bilbo's haggard features as he hurried down the hall with Saradoc close behind. Merry's excited shouts had awakened Frodo, and he looked up in confusion as his room became suddenly crowded.
"What's all the noise about?" He asked dimly, rubbing at his eyes. He suddenly realized he wasn't dizzy anymore and his headache had receded to a dull throbbing rather than the overwhelming agony it had been.
"You're getting better, Frodo," Bilbo said happily. "You gave us a scare, my lad, but you're going to be fine," the elderly hobbit said as he embraced Frodo. "How do you feel, my boy?"
"I'm hungry," Frodo answered, and relieved looks were exchanged around the room. Saradoc herded Merry out of the room and toward the kitchen to find something Frodo's still tender throat could abide, and Bilbo remained at the bedside, tears of joy streaming down his face as he held Frodo's hand, rejoicing in the grip that answered his own.
~*~To be continued~*~
LotRseer3350 - Lotho does have a couple more tricks to pull, the nastier of which will have unforeseen consequences, even for him!
Bookworm2000 - I'm afraid Merry won't be but a few days in Hobbiton, but he will be an immense comfort to Frodo while he's there, and he'll get to meet Sam! Lotho may inflame your wrath further yet. Give him time!
Camellia - Gamgee - Took - Will Lotho ever learn? Doubtful! You'll see Merry and Saradoc at Bag End in this chapter.
Endymion2 - It would be nice to just be allowed to rest when all heck is breaking loose. Here's a hint. Push your bed close to the wall and take the inside. That way, your husband is closest to the action and he'll have to take care of whatever's happening or endure you crawling over him! Nobody needs a friend like Lotho. We're getting closer to the nasty trick that, in my opinion, makes this story interesting.
Aratlithiel - Lotho will use anything available against Frodo, including the lad's own kind heart. Poor Frodo. We'll cheer him up soon!
FrodoBaggins1982 - If only Frodo had some of Lotho's duplicity in him, he might see the truth for what it really is. Unfortunately, he's so kind and innocent, he has a hard time believing his own kin could be so awful to him. The protective Sam we know and love is taking shape here.
~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~
Chapter 12 - Reunion
~*~Late night, Bag End~*~
Bilbo carefully mopped Frodo's forehead with the cool, damp cloth. The day had passed slowly, or so it seemed, with Bilbo and Sam watching over Frodo as he slept and helping him to sit upright when he found breathing difficult. Sam was in the next room, exhausted and sound asleep.
Bilbo had given Frodo some of the healer's tea. The sedatives were allowing the tween to sleep and thereby escape at least some of his discomfort. The fever had dropped from its dangerous peak, but had yet to break. Thankfully, Frodo had not become delirious again, but he was weakened and so dizzy he couldn't even walk to the privy without support.
Bilbo sighed, and his brow creased with worry. "Frodo, lad," he whispered to the sleeping figure under the comforter, "if only I could make you well by merely wishing it to be." If such power could ever be given to him, Bilbo would ensure that Frodo never took ill again. "But I'm just an eccentric old hobbit, and my wishes will not turn the tides."
Frodo's chest heaved and a coughing fit wracked him, waking him rudely from his slumber. Bilbo thumped him on the back as Frodo fought for air between waves of painful coughs. When the spell had passed, Bilbo wrapped his arms around Frodo and just held him.
"Oh, my poor dear boy," he said as he rubbed Frodo's back. The doorbell rang, and Bilbo reluctantly released Frodo from his embrace. "Rest easy, lad. I'll be right back," Bilbo promised as he made his way to the front door.
He opened it to find Merry and Saradoc there, anxious and red - faced from the cold. "Thank the Valar you've come," Bilbo said as he ushered them inside. "Where are your packs?"
"Master Gamgee will bring them when he's seen to the pony and the cart. A good fellow, Hamfast," Saradoc remarked, trying to ease the tension he saw in Bilbo's posture and countenance. "Frodo - how is he?"
Merry looked at Bilbo pleadingly. "Can I see him? Please, Uncle?"
"Frodo is still feverish and he coughs until he's just worn out," Bilbo informed them. "He's been sleeping as he can, but he's very uncomfortable. Please let me take your coats and you may see him, certainly."
Bilbo hung up the travelers' garments and led them down the hall to Frodo's room. "I've given him a sedative the healer brought," Bilbo explained as they neared the room. "If he isn't having a coughing spell, he's likely to be asleep."
Merry entered the room first and was dismayed to see his favorite cousin's listlessness and pallor. He stood by the bed gazing numbly at Frodo as Saradoc laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Fear not, Merry. Frodo will be all right," Saradoc said softly. "You know how strong he is."
Merry nodded. He had seen his cousin through many harsh trials, and he had no doubt of Frodo's tenacity and determination. But how much help were those traits against something like this, he wondered? Frodo could strike back against a physical enemy, but what kind of battle was he fighting now? One Merry couldn't help him win, at least not directly, the young hobbit thought sadly.
"May I stay here for a while with him, please?" Merry asked quietly.
"Yes, Merry, if you wish," Bilbo told him. "Your father and I will be in the parlor. Call us if Frodo needs anything."
"I will," Merry answered, turning his attention back to his cousin as Bilbo and Saradoc left the room. Frodo had drifted off again, and Merry gently took his hand. It felt cold and clammy, and Merry rubbed it gently to warm it.
"Frodo," he said softly, "Do you remember the time I got so sick when I was little?" Merry knew Frodo didn't hear him, and he didn't expect an answer. He continued speaking just the same. "You wouldn't leave my room, no matter how much anyone pleaded or threatened. You just stayed there, and they had to bring your meals to you. You practically moved in," Merry said, smiling at the memory.
"You were the last person I saw when I fell asleep at night, and the first one there when I woke up in the morning." Frodo's hand felt warmer, and Merry gently laid it back against the covers. "When I was awake and I felt so terrible, you distracted me by reading me stories, and even making some stories up on the spot. You're so good at those things, Frodo, much better than I am." Merry frowned to himself. "I'm not sure what I'm good at yet, but I'll know someday."
Merry had been staring off at nothing as he said those words, and he didn't see Frodo open his eyes and look at him. A voice so thin and raspy he hardly recognized it rose from the heap of covers and pillows.
"You're good at being a friend, Mer."
Merry's eyes darted to Frodo's and remained there. "Frodo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," Merry said, pulling the chair closer to the bed.
"I'm glad you did, Merry. I thought I was dreaming, but it's really you." Frodo's brow creased as he struggled against the headache that no remedy had been able to dull. "When did you get here?"
"Just a short while ago," Merry answered. "Uncle Bilbo sent for us. He's so worried about you, Frodo. I can see it in his eyes." Merry felt tears welling in his own eyes and he didn't hold them back. "I'm worried about you too."
"Well I'll have to get better then," Frodo said, forcing a smile. "It won't do to have Bag End filled with worried hobbits." The sentence was punctuated with a series of coughs, and Merry reached for the pitcher on the table. He filled a glass with water and handed it to Frodo.
"Are you feeling any better?" Merry asked hopefully.
"A little," Frodo answered. "But I still feel awful. My head hurts and I'm dizzy. I don't feel much like eating anything, and my throat hurts terribly."
"You should go back to sleep then," Merry said as he fluffed up the pillows. "I'm going to stay right here, I promise." He wondered how it was that Frodo had become so ill, but now was not the time to press for details.
"Thank you," Frodo said as he let his eyes drift closed again. Within minutes, he was asleep once again, under the watchful gaze of his younger cousin.
~*~
"Bilbo fidgeted with his pipe as he and Saradoc sat by the fire catching up on recent events, including Frodo's dip in the pond. "I can't find the words to say how much the lad means to me, Sara," Bilbo said haltingly. "If I lose him - Oh! But I can't!" Pent up emotions writhed to the surface as Bilbo gave voice to the fears he had held in silence since Frodo had fallen ill. "I couldn't bear it, Saradoc. He's been here only a short time, but he's so much in my heart, as if he's always been here."
Saradoc nodded. He'd always known that somehow the bond between Frodo and the aged hobbit was special. "Love is never an easy thing, Bilbo," he said with a sigh. "Nothing worthwhile ever is." He lit his pipe and reached for Bilbo's. "You're blaming yourself, I can tell."
Bilbo looked at Saradoc sharply. "If anyone is to blame it is I, for not having been more vigilant. Something ill is afoot here, I feel it!"
"What do you feel, Bilbo?" Saradoc regarded Bilbo curiously.
"I think petty jealousies and greedy notions are to blame for Frodo's condition. The Sackville - Bagginses want to get their hands on Bag End so badly they can think of little else." Bilbo's gaze narrowed. "And Lotho has been conspicuous by his presence every time something untoward has happened to Frodo lately. That boy is devious and mean, and I think he feels threatened by Frodo's presence here."
"Hmmph," Saradoc snorted. "That would be quite in character for the lad, I must admit. But what reason has Lotho to feel threatened at this time? You haven't spoken of your intentions to adopt Frodo, have you?"
"Not yet," Bilbo admitted. "It is my intention that the Sackville - Bagginses will not know of that until the documents are signed and finalized."
"A good plan, I believe," Saradoc said, nodding approval. "They need not know anything more than that Frodo is living here for the time being. Have you any proof that Lotho is behind any of the mishaps?"
Bilbo frowned. "Only the toss - ball incident. That was quite plainly Lotho's doing. I've no proof of anything further, but my intuition tells me Lotho had something to do with Frodo ending up in the pond." He glowered into the fire as he puffed on his pipe. "Eru help him if I am able to prove him responsible."
"Let us worry about that later, Bilbo. Right now our chief concern is Frodo." Saradoc looked down the hallway that led to the lad's room. "Merry was beside himself when your letter arrived. We couldn't get here fast enough to suit him."
"Yes, I can imagine," Bilbo said, thinking of how devoted Merry had always been to Frodo. "Perhaps my note made things sound worse than they really are, but you should have seen him when the fever peaked, Sara." Fear stole into the hobbit's eyes and voice. "He didn't know us, and he fought us to the limit of his strength as Mrs. Gamgee and I tried to get him into the bath to cool him down. I don't know who he thought we were, but after his recent experiences, I have some guesses."
Saradoc nodded. "A high fever can cause hallucinations, among other things. It was wise of you to immerse him in a cool bath."
"It was Mrs. Gamgee's idea," Bilbo said, thinking of how much experience Bell had with children in all states of health and illness. "I didn't know what to do. I was at a loss, Sara."
"Some things must be learned as they are experienced, Bilbo. Nobody is born knowing such things, but we learn from those around us." Saradoc smiled encouragingly. "Do you think I had any notion of what to do the first time Merry took ill? I was quite new at parenting, and was rather out of my element if I may say so. The women took over and insisted that I stay out from under foot while they cared for him. My role was reduced to amusing him when he grew bored of long days in bed with nothing to occupy him."
"And I haven't the luxury of a crowd of women folk to push me out of the way, it's true," Bilbo admitted. "But I felt so helpless, Sara. I still do. There the poor lad is, sicker than I would ever wish even my worst enemy to be, and I can do nothing but watch and wait."
"And we watch and wait together," Saradoc said as he added a log to the fire. "You and Mrs. Gamgee have done very well by Frodo. There is no need for any self - recrimination or regrets, Bilbo." Saradoc looked directly into Bilbo's eyes. "Love can do remarkable things, believe me. There is enough love here to pull Frodo through this and so much more."
"I do hope you're right," Bilbo said wearily as he let his gaze wander down the hallway.
~*~
Sam woke with a start. He thought he had heard voices in Frodo's room. Who was there, and why? Was Frodo in danger? His worries snapped him to alertness in an instant, and he hurried the short distance to Frodo's room. Upon reaching the doorway, he was startled to see another hobbit near his age sitting in the chair and watching over the ailing tween.
"Beggin' your pardon, but how is he?" Sam asked, keeping his voice low.
Merry looked up, startled by the newcomer. "He's still got a fever, and he said his head hurts," Merry answered. Who was this lad in the doorway? He remembered Frodo's letter and a name came to him. "You must be Sam."
Sam nodded. "That's me. Are you Frodo's cousin?"
Merry nodded. "Meriadoc Brandybuck. It's a pleasure to meet you, although I wish we were meeting under different circumstances. You can call me Merry. Everybody does."
Sam colored and reminded himself that this lad was the son of the Master of Buckland. "It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Merry," Sam replied, settling for familiarity merged with respect. "Mr. Frodo has naught but the best to say of you, no mistake."
"He told me a lot of good things about you in his letters," Merry answered, motioning for Sam to come into the room. "Is it true that you're going to be Uncle Bilbo's gardener someday?"
"Yes sir, if he'll have me, that is," Sam said modestly. "Me da takes care of the garden now, but his joints are fair stiffened some days. He's taught me a good bit about gardening, he has."
"That's a big garden, too," Merry commented as he stood up to peer out the window into the darkness. "Is it all flowers and bushes, or do you grow vegetables?"
For the next half hour or so, Sam told Merry about the garden, and Merry answered Sam's shy questions about Brandy Hall. Frodo slept on despite the quiet conversation.
~*~
The doorbell sounded again, and Bilbo greeted Bell and Hamfast Gamgee.
"We know it's late and all, but we thought we would stop by to see how Mr. Frodo is faring," Hamfast explained. "And I reckon it's time we fetched Samwise home for a spell." The Gaffer looked at Bilbo earnestly. "He's not been under foot and makin' a nuisance of himself, has he Mr. Bilbo?"
"Far from it, Hamfast," Bilbo assured him. "He's been both a great help to me and a comfort to Frodo." Bilbo led the way down the hall. "Sam was resting a while ago, but like as not we'll find him in Frodo's room."
Bilbo's assessment was accurate, and Sam was indeed seated at the foot of the bed, talking quietly with Merry.
"Time to make for home, Samwise," Bell said softly. "Mr. Frodo has plenty of company for the moment, and you need a proper rest in your own bed."
Sam nodded. "Yes, ma. This is Mr. Frodo's cousin, Mr. Meriadoc Brandybuck from Buckland," Sam gestured to Merry.
"How do you do," Bell said with a polite nod to Merry. Having already met Merry and Saradoc outside earlier, Hamfast followed suit as Sam stood up and made ready to leave with them. Bell walked to the bedside and gazed down at Frodo as he slept. "You just rest easy, poor dear," she whispered. "Poor lad's had a time of it these past few days, he has."
Merry was heartened by the kindness in Bell's eyes and voice. If Frodo were surrounded by such good folk as the Gamgees, he should be happy at Bag End indeed. He suddenly felt much better about Frodo's decision to move to Hobbiton, and he smiled.
The Gamgees took their leave, a reluctant Samwise trailing behind his parents.
"I fear we've neglected our supper with all the excitement this evening, Merry," Bilbo said. "I'm tempted to wake Frodo to see if he has any interest in eating, but he needs to rest as well," he noted. An idea struck him and he looked at Merry again. "Would you like to take your supper here while you watch over Frodo? If he should wake and ask for something, you could come and tell me."
"That would be fine, Uncle," Merry replied. "I don't want to leave him right now, for supper or anything else," he said protectively.
The late supper came and went, and the nighttime hours lengthened slowly on. Merry insisted on keeping the vigil, and promised to wake everyone if anything changed, for good or ill. Through the night, Frodo woke occasionally, and Merry did his best to make his cousin comfortable, praying that the worst of the illness had passed.
~*~Bag End, early morning~*~
Merry woke and rubbed his eyes. When he realized he'd fallen asleep, he silently cursed himself for not remaining alert. What if Frodo had needed him? He looked at Frodo anxiously in the dim light of the candle on the bedside table. Frodo looked so still, so pale. For a moment, Merry felt fear grip him and he reached out to brush his Fingers across his cousin's forehead.
Frodo's skin was cool to the touch, though not cold, and Merry's heart leapt with hope. He bent low over Frodo's chest and listened to his breathing, which was quiet and even, not as congested as it had been. In a flash, Merry ran from the room, calling out in his gladness.
"Uncle Bilbo! Da, come quick!" he shouted as he ran down the hallway. Bilbo and Saradoc had both fallen asleep in the parlor, not wanting the closed door of a bedroom to stand between them and news of Frodo's condition. They came alert instantly at the sound of Merry's voice, leaping to their feet.
"What is it, Merry?" Bilbo said urgently as Merry nearly ran him down in his haste to deliver the good news.
"It's Frodo! His fever's broken! Frodo's getting better!"
A look of pure joy and boundless relief spread across Bilbo's haggard features as he hurried down the hall with Saradoc close behind. Merry's excited shouts had awakened Frodo, and he looked up in confusion as his room became suddenly crowded.
"What's all the noise about?" He asked dimly, rubbing at his eyes. He suddenly realized he wasn't dizzy anymore and his headache had receded to a dull throbbing rather than the overwhelming agony it had been.
"You're getting better, Frodo," Bilbo said happily. "You gave us a scare, my lad, but you're going to be fine," the elderly hobbit said as he embraced Frodo. "How do you feel, my boy?"
"I'm hungry," Frodo answered, and relieved looks were exchanged around the room. Saradoc herded Merry out of the room and toward the kitchen to find something Frodo's still tender throat could abide, and Bilbo remained at the bedside, tears of joy streaming down his face as he held Frodo's hand, rejoicing in the grip that answered his own.
~*~To be continued~*~