Disclaimers:
I am only seeking to emulate JRR Tolkien, all characters, places and
peoples are solely his. I have no rights except to this simple story.
Medical
Disclaimer: All medicinal procedures and cures have been researched to
the best of my non-medical ability. I use them here only as fiction,
and they should not be tried at home.
Smoke and Mirrors Chapter 8
Aragorn moved with the speed of one possessed. He lunged towards the ringbearer as Frodo lost consciousness and began his fall from the wall surrounding the Citadel. Sam and Gandalf had made an equally rapid approach, but it was Aragorn who grasped the small form of their dear friend , about the waist. Frodo was not however, the only person in danger at that time. As Aragorn lunged, the quickness and force of his approach had swung him low over the wall. Gandalf quickly stepped forward and pulled both of them back, landing in a heap on the pavement at Sam's feet. Sam was beside himself with worry and was weeping hysterically. He reached out for his Master as Aragorn settled Frodo gently to the ground. It was now obvious why Frodo had collapsed and nearly fallen to his death, for he was in the throes of a major convulsion.
"Sam, stand back just a little and let's make some room for them," said Gandalf softly.
Aragorn had torn a swath of fabric from his tunic and placed it between Frodo's teeth. The frail ringbearer writhed and jerked, striking his head repeatedly. Gandalf moved to place the hobbit's head on his robe to somehow cushion the blows. Frodo's arms struck out spasmodically striking Aragorn in the face. The King leaned over the hobbit, trying to limit the damage the small soul might do to himself. Finally, after what seemed like hours to Sam, the seizure diminished and then stopped. Aragorn carefully rolled Frodo over on his side, as he retched. He was unable to even bring forth bile, although he gagged many times. Giving out a weak moan he collapsed onto his back.
"While he is yet unconscious, I wish to cool him by the fountain ," Aragorn said, breathing raggedly.
They moved as one to the fountain. Sam produced a clean handkerchief from his breeches pocket and Aragorn dipped it into the crystal clear fountain. First, he wrung out the cloth then pressed it to Frodo's parched lips. Frodo made a subconscious effort to suck the cool water from the proffered hanky. This caused Aragorn to smile slightly as he glanced up at Sam and Gandalf.
"It is a good sign," said Aragorn. He re-wet the cloth and let the drops of water slowly fall into Frodo's mouth. These were swallowed equally slowly as Frodo's throat make a small clicking sound. Aragorn peered into the small mouth. "He has many bite marks on his tongue and lips," he said frowning. "He has endured many seizures, it would seem."
Sam looked up at Aragorn with pleading eyes. "But he'll be ok now, right Mr. Strider?" he asked.
"I do not know, Sam," Aragorn said sadly. "Seizures can leave their victims with brain damage sometimes. He may not have the needed strength to survive this illness, coming so soon after his ordeal in Mordor."
Sam's face twisted in anger at this statement. "No, not Mr. Frodo," he cried heatedly. "You can't tell me, after all he's been through, that there's no hope." He glared at Aragorn as if daring him to refute this.
Aragorn smiled over at Sam. "I only meant to be honest with you Sam. There is always hope, little one. Frodo has always had a very strong will to survive. We will do everything within our power to save him," he squeezed Sam's shoulder in affection. Sam smiled weakly back at him.
Aragorn began washing Frodo's feverish face then moved down his neck and chest. "We need to get him out of these wet clothes and then bind this hand," Aragorn said. He removed the cloak and nightshirt and washed the, now naked, hobbit gently. Frodo was shivering uncontrollably now.
"Here, I will keep him warm," said Gandalf. He knelt down and pulled the ringbearer into the voluminous folds of his brilliant white robes. Frodo seemed as a small child nestled in the loving arms of the great wizard. Gandalf began a slow rocking motion. Frodo's shivering seemed to lessen as he snuggled deep with the folds of Gandalf's sleeves, all of him covered save his small pinched face. Aragorn took the handkerchief and bathed the right hand, wrung it out and made a makeshift bandage to staunch the blood flow from the finger.
"We need to move quickly to the Houses of Healing so that we might try to work a miracle for our small friend, here." He smoothed back Frodo's sweat drenched curls, gathered up the wet clothing and placed Sam back on his hip. Then with Gandalf in front, they strode rapidly down to the sixth level.
They entered the Houses of Healing in quick time and bore Frodo to the hobbit quarters. Saleth met them in the hall and quickly called for a tepid bath and various herbal remedies. In Frodo's absence the bed had been made up with clean linens and pillows. Gandalf continued to cradle the small one within his warm embrace as the bath was poured.
Aragorn gently placed Sam on the bed and took Frodo from Gandalf. He and Saleth slowly lowered him into the bath. Frodo's eyes popped open in panic as the water made contact with his skin.
"Wha...who..are...youuu? Lea..me..be!" he whispered weakly.
"No Frodo, you are safe. And we shall not 'leave your be." It is I, Aragorn and Saleth...and look ....Sam is with us as well, Aragorn said softly, his eyes misting over. He turned towards Sam. "Sam, come over here so that he may see you." Sam was so relieved to be doing something for his Master, he almost fell from the bed in his hurry to get to his side.
Mr. Frodo, me dear, it's your Sam. You just lie still and let these healers do for you and soon you'll be up in no time," Sam said softly as he stroked Frodo's left hand.
Sam looked awful, thought Aragorn. It had all been just too much for the small gardener and too soon. Sam had only just awakened from an exhausted sleep after the arduous trip through Mordor. Somehow we must get him to rest or he will soon collapse and suffer a relapse, Aragorn mused.
"Sssam? Is that you?" Frodo whispered
"Aye, Mr. Frodo. It's your Sam, and I'm here beside you," Sam whispered, his face breaking into a smile of relief as he clutched Frodo's left hand tighter.
"Don't let them touch me, Sam. They aren't what they appear to be. It's a trick of the ring," Frodo whispered back in an urgent voice. He clutched tightly at Sam's hand and tried to rise from the bathtub. Sam pushed him gently back down.
"It's alright, Master. The ring is destroyed and I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," Sam stated gazing sadly into Frodo's eyes.
"You won't leave me?" Frodo mumbled.
Sam grimaced at this, remembering Cirith Ungol. "No Master, I'll not leave you, no matter what" he said firmly.
Seemingly reassured Frodo sighed deeply, "I had the strangest dream about you and Gandalf..." he mumbled.
Gandalf smiled at that. "I wonder if I should make myself scarce until this one is more fully recovered or risk further shock to his system." He caressed the damp curls. "My dear, dear little hobbit," he whispered.
They lifted him gently from the now cool bath and wrapped him in fluffy towels. Aragorn carried him to the bed. Saleth brought over the nightshirt and slipped it over his head, then covered him in many blankets.
"I think we should attend to this hand now," said Aragorn. "Saleth, while I do this could you examine the rest of him more thoroughly? he asked.
"Of course, my Liege", he replied. Slowly Saleth ran his hands over the back of Frodo's head. Next he moved down his arms and legs until he was satisfied he had not missed anything. "He has multiple swellings on the back of his head, and cuts and abrasions completely cover his arms and legs. I will apply an ointment to quell any infection that might occur." he said. Aragorn nodded in agreement.
As Aragorn slowly unwrapped the handkerchief from the ringbearers hand, he looked up at the healer. "Are you well, Saleth?" he asked.
"I am, my Lord. Thank you for attending to my needs earlier and for allowing me a much needed rest," he said smiling.
Aragorn smiled in return. "We are our own worst enemies when trying to battle illness and fatigue. It was my honor to assist one who has helped so many of my people through so many hard times," he said.
Saleth was completely dumbfounded. He felt completely unworthy of such a statement. To have the King himself feel honor at attending someone such as he... a simple healer? Saleth once again, said thanks to Eru for their new King.
Aragorn had finally unwrapped the hand and saw that it was still bleeding freely. "This is not going to heal like this," he said. "I regret to say we may have to cauterize it to stop the bleeding and infection. Frodo's already so weak and I fear part of this is from lack of blood. If left to heal on it's own I believe an infection could set in once again, and take him from us." He looked up at Saleth. "I do not wish to cause him further pain, but I am at a loss at how else to proceed."
Saleth grimaced. "I too, do not wish to torture the ringbearer, yet it is quite possibly our only alternative. We need to focus on the 'brain fever' infection before it rages beyond our skills to heal. We truly have no other choice," he said sadly.
Sam had been listening to the exchange and was becoming more and more agitated as they spoke. "What are you talkin' about, sirs? What are you goin' to do to him?" he asked looking at the men with suspicion and dread.
"Sam, we need to stop the bleeding and this will also keep the bone in his ring finger from becoming infected," whispered Aragorn gently. "To do this we will need to 'brand' the end of his finger, I am sorry."
"Sorry? Sorry! No, you'll not do that to me Master! He'll die for sure if you do somethin' like that to him," Sam said angrily. He moved between Aragorn and Frodo not unlike a sow would do to protect her cub, and created a barrier between the two.
"I am sorry, Sam. I care for Frodo too. He is my friend, as well." Aragorn's eyes were wet with tears as he tried to make Sam understand. "If we do not do this, he will bleed to death. If we do this, it will stop the bleeding and we can turn our efforts to curing him of his illness. The more time we waste trying to stop the bleeding, the less time we have to stop the fever. He will gradually become weaker and will be unable to fight the disease. Then he will die, Sam. You must understand." Aragorn was now weeping. Sam had never really seen Aragorn openly weep, and this moved him, as well, to tears. The thought of his dear Master dying caused Sam to step back and allow Aragorn to proceed. Aragorn nodded to Sam who now looked very frightened and tired.
The King looked up at Saleth. "My friend, we will need the reed and funnel that I requested earlier."
"It is prepared by the bedside, my Lord, as I left it," said the healer.
"Very well. We shall need some Valerian root to sedate him before we start the cauterization. Black current, althelas and echinacia teas will also be needed along with a light broth for later," Aragorn said with a contemplative look on his features.
"I agree, my Lord. For a patient of his size to be sedated, only a very small amount of the Valerian root would be necessary. I will make an emulsion in tepid water and return shortly," Saleth bowed and left the room.
"How will you do it?" asked Sam quietly.
"Ummm...what Sam?" Aragorn, lost in thought, continued to apply pressure to the finger.
"How will you caut..cautrrr..fix Mr. Frodo's finger," Sam asked tentatively.
"Sam, perhaps you should eat and rest. It's been a very long and hard day for you. You've only just recovered yourself, my friend," Aragorn said, trying to avoid the details of Frodo's upcoming procedure.
"Your Majesty and no offense intended, if you take my meanin', you must tell me what you're gonna do ta him," implored Sam.
"Sam...," Aragorn began, but seeing the look on Sam's face, decided to avoid the inevitable argument with the hobbit if the question remained unanswered. "Very well, Sam" he said softly and sighed. We will first sedate Frodo, if we can get him to take the Valerian root. Then we will cleanse the area around the ring finger with althelas water." Aragorn swallowed slowly and looked back into Sam's eyes. "Then we will take a specially forged iron made for wounds of this kind, heat it in very hot coals until it glows white and press it against the stump of the finger." He finished saying all of this in barely a whisper.
Sam's eyes had grown wide and filled with unshed tears as Aragorn had continued the description of the procedure. "You say there's no other way?...and that he will die if we don't do this?" he rasped.
"Yes Sam, he has already lost too much blood and we need to concentrate all our efforts on healing the other infection before he will be too weak to recover," Aragorn then reached out and gathered Sam to him. Sam sobbed openly now and clutched at Aragorn as he was rocked in a soothing rhythm.
Saleth returned at that point and with the asked for teas, broth and Valerian root emulsion. He also had a long iron rod that was flat on one end, in his hand. He placed the iron in the coals and fanned them until they glowed. Gandalf took Sam from Aragorn's arms and started to walk out into the hallway.
"No, Mr. Gandalf, sir" Sam gulped, "I still mean to stay by him."
"Are you sure of this Samwise?" Sam gulped and nodded. "Very well, but it will not be an easy thing for you to watch," said Gandalf softly.
Taking the Valerian root extract, Aragorn approached Frodo's bedside. "Saleth, your assistance please," he said.
"Yes, my Lord." Saleth moved into position behind Frodo and held him tightly across the chest. Then, using his right hand he pried Frodo's mouth open. Aragorn poured a swallow of the mixture into the small mouth. Frodo reacted immediately to the bitter root mixture, coughing and sputtering and trying to turn away from Saleth's firm grip. He swallowed and his eyes flew open.
"Nooo...please, no more. I cannot tell you anything. It is gone. Please leave me to die," he slurred.
Aragorn nodded to Saleth who now held the ringbearer against his chest with one arm. He pinched Frodo's nose closed with one hand and pried his mouth open with the other. Aragorn poured more of the drug into the gasping hobbit, until he swallowed then Saleth released his nose and mouth allowing him to breathe. This continued until most of the extract was gone, and Frodo was clearly feeling the effects of the brew. He still moaned and plead to be left alone, but his complaints became weaker and weaker until his whole body sagged and slumped over against the healer.
"I believe we are ready," said Saleth.
"Let's get this over with," said Aragorn, his jaw set in a determined line. He rose and retrieved the bowl with the althelas water and thoroughly washed the small right hand. So very small, he thought, not unlike a child's. He grimaced and forced himself to retrieve the iron from the hot coals. It glowed white. Sam had been looking on, but now turned his face into Gandalf's shoulder as he overcome with heartfelt sobs. Gandalf continued to softly rub his back and rock him.
"It will be quick, Samwise," he said.
Taking a deep breath Aragorn brought the iron slowly up to the bleeding finger and, swallowing hard, he pressed it against the small stub.
to be continued