Frodo had pulled his knees up to his nose and was sniffling pathetically.
His teary eyes had stopped flowing but he had gotten the hiccoughs and
every so often his little frame would jolt and he would squeak slightly.
His eyes were darting around the room wildly slightly glaring at Envin as a
snake ready to strike him. He shivered and shook again, sniffling loudly.
Sam had gotten up ever so slowly and Frodo let out a cry of protest but Sam
just lay a hand on his shoulder and hushed him. "Shh, Mr. Frodo, I'm just
gettin' a pocket handkerchief for your runny nose there, okay? I won't go
far and I won't take long. You can watch."
*Hic*
"There there, try to calm down. Breathe easy."
*Hic*
Sam sighed and shifted his weight. His legs felt wobbly but he just took in a deep breath and walked over to Envin who had pulled out a pocket handkerchief. He was afraid to move from the corner so that he would not upset Frodo but the simple hobbit was watching the two closely.
*Hic*
"Envin, you can't stay in this corner forever. What are we gonna do about him?" Sam's voice cracked. He still had such a hard time dealing with the fact that his master was as simple as a child. He turned at hearing Frodo made a strange squick sound in his throat. Sam ran over to him and offered the pocket handkerchief. Frodo stared at it and shifted uneasily. Sam sighed and pressed it to his nose. He took the corner and dried the tears. Frodo looked up and smiled gratefully. Sam's touch was gentle and kind.
Frodo would have stayed content but for an uncomfortable feeling in his tummy. He bounced slightly on the bed and squicked again. "What is it?" Sam asked as if expecting an answer. Frodo himself was not quite sure but he did not like it. Envin watched closely before it registered.
"Sam!" Envin called, "I think he has to- um- relieve himself-"
Sam nodded and put his hands under Frodo's arms to help him up. Frodo complied. "Where?" asked Sam rather desperately.
"There is some brush behind this tent, not far, and no one is near. The privy is much too far."
Sam nodded and helped Frodo limp out of the tent. When they reached the outside the simple hobbit had to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. *Now this just adds to the unpleasantness.* But his protector lead him behind the tent and brought him into the shadows of the underbrush. Sam pulled down Frodo's breeches and was thankful that he knew how to do the rest. Sam and Frodo both sighed in relief. Sam took a few steps back and let his shoulders slump. For a moment he felt almost peaceful in the cool shadows and Frodo was occupied at the moment. When he turned around again he saw Frodo finish tugging up his breeches and smiled. Well he learned to do something on his own. For this Sam was so very thankful. Frodo walked over to him with less trouble than last time though he had to concentrate on each step. Sam grabbed hold of his arm as he reached him and smiled down at the simple hobbit.
"Good."
*Hic*
His hiccoughs had slowed but were still slightly plaguing him. "If you just calm your breathing a bit-" Sam began before he turned and saw Frodo watching him intently, as if he were hanging on every word he said. "You don't understand a word of this do you?" His face never changed save that his smile broadened. "I could go on talkin' and you wouldn't notice or mind."
*Hic*
"I wonder if any of this is even sticking. Ya know you used to know two languages. You spoke 'em both beautifully. You were always known for your way with words, Mr. Frodo. Such a way, it earned you the title "gentlehobbit" in the Shire. You knew how to speak to your elders with respect, and the juniors with praise, and your betters with skill, though there were few of higher status mind, and me. You spoke to me and the Gaffer like we were just as important as you. You never made us feel inferior, Mr. Frodo. You never made us feel uncomfortable."
*Hic* Frodo smiled.
"I guess you did see us just as important as you, didn't you? No one was better than the other for you were they? You didn't judge by status."
Frodo blinked slowly, his smile never fading. He really did like this babble. It started to get an interesting flow. It rose and fell with wonder and ended on strange pitches sometimes. It fell on his ears gentle and it did not burn or hurt. He could remember something burning, something hurting. This place didn't have that. But there were scary things. Big things. Things his protector had to fend away from him. And the babble was so very enjoyable he did not want it to stop. He smiled hoping it would keep him going. He didn't want it to stop. Every time his protector would falter with his words or pause Frodo just smiled and hopped that more babble would come. It often did.
*Hic*
Sam sighed, "Ya know, Mr. Frodo, I'm right glad that you're gainin' back some a your weight but my back begs to differ. I think I need to sit a while." Sam eased Frodo off of his side and both sat down in the cool grass. Sam let out another tired sigh and turned his face toward the sun. Frodo imitated him.
Sam cast a glance towards his charge. "Do you like the grass?" He saw Frodo running his hands along the blades as they sprung back and forth and shimmered in the sun. Sam smiled slightly, "You always used to like all things that were green."
Frodo was too busy watching the grass bounce back and forth. *Now this stuff was interesting.* Frodo watched as the different blades sprang this way and that each one the same yet different. They were not all the same color and they all shone with a pretty brilliance he never saw before. His nimble fingers dug deeper and he felt a cool earth beneath. That was a different feeling too. The earth was warm yet cool, dark and shifted smoothly between his fingers, he could feel life pulsing through it and as he churned it it released a sweet smell of growing things that tickled his nose. *This place was lovely.* His thoughts began to turn everything he saw over and over. It was difficult and many things were still not clear but he decided on one thing; he liked it. He liked it a lot.
Sam was smiling down at the little sprouts that were finding their way between the blades of grass. Some tiny white flowers had bloomed and others were still little buds. He bent down and sniffed them. They had a light yet fragrant perfume and he rubbed his nose. It was so long since he himself had seen or smelled a flower. He too felt like he was seeing them for the first time. "I do so like these foreign flowers. They are so small like little stars."
Frodo was watching Sam. He looked down and detected the little white sprouts too. Seeing is how his protector liked them so much he plucked a little bud from the ground and handed it to him. Sam's face fell when he looked at it. "Oh, no, don't pick them like that!" Sam cried.
Frodo furrowed his brow. His protector was obviously dismayed. His voice rose and took a frightening pitch and a rough stagger. He did not like it. It did not feel gentle on his ears. *Have I done something wrong?* He looked at the flower. *What was wrong with it?* He turned it over and over but could not see the problem. Tears started in his eyes. His protector was displeased with him.
"Oh don't cry, Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to holler." Frodo just kept his eyes downcast on the little bud he was twirling in his hand. Sam tried to explain as he took the flower from Frodo, "You cannot pick 'em when they're this young. They're weak and fragile." Frodo's eyes were swimming. Sam's voice was still not it's gentle tone, that's all Frodo noted. "It'll die before it can blossom." Sam continued slowly, tears starting in his own eyes for the death of the little flower. "Now you can't see how pretty it's gonna be, because now it's dead. You see dead. Dead." Sam held out the flower hoping Frodo would understand. He did not but he took note of the odd sound the words Sam's voice made. *Dead.* "You can't just go pickin' the pretty things out of the ground either, you kill 'em that way. Soon it will wither, it won't be pretty any more, and it has lost the chance to grow. It lost it's chance to live, Mr. Frodo. You don't wanna take that away."
Frodo stared at the flower blankly. He took it gently from Sam's hands and pocketed it. Whatever his protector didn't like about it, he still did, so he'd keep it. He sniffed again but his hiccoughs had gone away, still, he was very vulnerable right now. Sam could tell by the way his lip quivered. Anything would set him off.
Sam was silent. He wanted Frodo to get more comfortable. "...make him see that everything is not a threat..." Sam murmured lightly. The simple hobbit was looking about him curiously now until he saw three figures approach. Quickly Frodo stiffened and held his breath.
"No, Mr. Frodo, breathe. I'll make 'em go away." Sam was afraid that Frodo would panic again. He could not have that. Quickly he stood and the three figures stopped.
"Hello, Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin, who have we here?" said Sam politely. There was a little girl standing between them, nearly his own height. When she looked upon Sam she attempted a clumsy curtsey and fell with a swoosh of pretty colored dresses. She held something close to her and when Sam saw the little golden kitten he smiled. "So it's Emarin, isn't it."
She nodded, "Yes, Lord Samwise, I came looking for my brother." Her eyes fell on Frodo who had also been staring at her. They widened and she gasped. "It cannot be! Aren't you Frodo of Nine Fingers?" Frodo furrowed his brow again. He quite liked that babble that came out of this new creature too. It was high and squeaky yet tiny and soft. Not threatening. He stood up and examined her.
She set down her kitten and fumbled with the curtsey again. This time she succeeded. "How do you do?"
Frodo's eyes now watched the kitten as it stumbled towards him. *It's so small!* He watched as it bumped into his leg and shook its head. Emarin quickly scooped it up, "Kitten is sorry, Lord Frodo."
Frodo watched the little fluff ball cuddled against the girl's arms. Merry, Pippin, and Sam watched completely speechless as Frodo and Emarin plopped on the ground to watch the kitten stumble around. "She's barely got her legs working right yet," said Emarin who never seemed to have a problem chattering, nor did she seem to noticed Frodo's condition. He was just a playmate to her, and he listened! Something most grown ups never did! "And I haven't thought of a name for her yet. What do you think?" Frodo did not seem to be paying attention to her words. He smiled as he watched the kitten bat a blade of grass. *What a silly little thing!*
Pippin and Merry shrugged and decided to join the crowd. Soon enough they were all sitting in a circle watching the little kitten hobble around. Frodo did not even notice. The kitten had wandered over to Sam's lap and struggled to climb up his knee. He laughed and picked her up so he could see her more closely. "She's a very pretty color, Emarin. Gold with blue eyes like that. Like little jewels. Ya know what I think you should call her?"
"What?"
"Rosie. I've always been fond of that name."
Merry and Pippin snorted and Sam frowned at them. "It's a pretty name," he blushed. He handed the kitten to Frodo who just adored it. He set it in his lap gently and smiled as he stroked its fur. "You like her, Lord Frodo?" said Emarin as she watched the two. "I guess I can lend her to you, if you like, just for the time you're staying any way." Frodo was watching the kitten as it purred in his lap.
*What's that sound? What's that rumbling?* He lifted the kitten and woke it up, much to her distaste. He pressed his ear to her back and she meowed slightly. He gasped and jerked his head up.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, setting the kitten back in Frodo's lap, "I don't think she likes that much."
Emarin smiled, "Rosie likes Frodo."
Sam blushed again and Merry and Pippin burst into laughter. "Yes," giggled Pippin, "I thinks Rosie does like Frodo the best." Merry nodded between bouts of laughter, "Yeah, Pip, Rosie's rather fond of Frodo, don't you think so Sam?"
Sam grumbled and tried to hide his blushing, "Come on, Mr. Frodo, we should be goin' in now." Frodo obeyed as Sam helped him up, still clutching the kitten to him. Merry and Pippin waved as they rolled on the grass with laughter. Emarin got up quickly, dusted her dress, and followed. After all she wanted to see her brother.
*Hic*
"There there, try to calm down. Breathe easy."
*Hic*
Sam sighed and shifted his weight. His legs felt wobbly but he just took in a deep breath and walked over to Envin who had pulled out a pocket handkerchief. He was afraid to move from the corner so that he would not upset Frodo but the simple hobbit was watching the two closely.
*Hic*
"Envin, you can't stay in this corner forever. What are we gonna do about him?" Sam's voice cracked. He still had such a hard time dealing with the fact that his master was as simple as a child. He turned at hearing Frodo made a strange squick sound in his throat. Sam ran over to him and offered the pocket handkerchief. Frodo stared at it and shifted uneasily. Sam sighed and pressed it to his nose. He took the corner and dried the tears. Frodo looked up and smiled gratefully. Sam's touch was gentle and kind.
Frodo would have stayed content but for an uncomfortable feeling in his tummy. He bounced slightly on the bed and squicked again. "What is it?" Sam asked as if expecting an answer. Frodo himself was not quite sure but he did not like it. Envin watched closely before it registered.
"Sam!" Envin called, "I think he has to- um- relieve himself-"
Sam nodded and put his hands under Frodo's arms to help him up. Frodo complied. "Where?" asked Sam rather desperately.
"There is some brush behind this tent, not far, and no one is near. The privy is much too far."
Sam nodded and helped Frodo limp out of the tent. When they reached the outside the simple hobbit had to shield his eyes from the blazing sun. *Now this just adds to the unpleasantness.* But his protector lead him behind the tent and brought him into the shadows of the underbrush. Sam pulled down Frodo's breeches and was thankful that he knew how to do the rest. Sam and Frodo both sighed in relief. Sam took a few steps back and let his shoulders slump. For a moment he felt almost peaceful in the cool shadows and Frodo was occupied at the moment. When he turned around again he saw Frodo finish tugging up his breeches and smiled. Well he learned to do something on his own. For this Sam was so very thankful. Frodo walked over to him with less trouble than last time though he had to concentrate on each step. Sam grabbed hold of his arm as he reached him and smiled down at the simple hobbit.
"Good."
*Hic*
His hiccoughs had slowed but were still slightly plaguing him. "If you just calm your breathing a bit-" Sam began before he turned and saw Frodo watching him intently, as if he were hanging on every word he said. "You don't understand a word of this do you?" His face never changed save that his smile broadened. "I could go on talkin' and you wouldn't notice or mind."
*Hic*
"I wonder if any of this is even sticking. Ya know you used to know two languages. You spoke 'em both beautifully. You were always known for your way with words, Mr. Frodo. Such a way, it earned you the title "gentlehobbit" in the Shire. You knew how to speak to your elders with respect, and the juniors with praise, and your betters with skill, though there were few of higher status mind, and me. You spoke to me and the Gaffer like we were just as important as you. You never made us feel inferior, Mr. Frodo. You never made us feel uncomfortable."
*Hic* Frodo smiled.
"I guess you did see us just as important as you, didn't you? No one was better than the other for you were they? You didn't judge by status."
Frodo blinked slowly, his smile never fading. He really did like this babble. It started to get an interesting flow. It rose and fell with wonder and ended on strange pitches sometimes. It fell on his ears gentle and it did not burn or hurt. He could remember something burning, something hurting. This place didn't have that. But there were scary things. Big things. Things his protector had to fend away from him. And the babble was so very enjoyable he did not want it to stop. He smiled hoping it would keep him going. He didn't want it to stop. Every time his protector would falter with his words or pause Frodo just smiled and hopped that more babble would come. It often did.
*Hic*
Sam sighed, "Ya know, Mr. Frodo, I'm right glad that you're gainin' back some a your weight but my back begs to differ. I think I need to sit a while." Sam eased Frodo off of his side and both sat down in the cool grass. Sam let out another tired sigh and turned his face toward the sun. Frodo imitated him.
Sam cast a glance towards his charge. "Do you like the grass?" He saw Frodo running his hands along the blades as they sprung back and forth and shimmered in the sun. Sam smiled slightly, "You always used to like all things that were green."
Frodo was too busy watching the grass bounce back and forth. *Now this stuff was interesting.* Frodo watched as the different blades sprang this way and that each one the same yet different. They were not all the same color and they all shone with a pretty brilliance he never saw before. His nimble fingers dug deeper and he felt a cool earth beneath. That was a different feeling too. The earth was warm yet cool, dark and shifted smoothly between his fingers, he could feel life pulsing through it and as he churned it it released a sweet smell of growing things that tickled his nose. *This place was lovely.* His thoughts began to turn everything he saw over and over. It was difficult and many things were still not clear but he decided on one thing; he liked it. He liked it a lot.
Sam was smiling down at the little sprouts that were finding their way between the blades of grass. Some tiny white flowers had bloomed and others were still little buds. He bent down and sniffed them. They had a light yet fragrant perfume and he rubbed his nose. It was so long since he himself had seen or smelled a flower. He too felt like he was seeing them for the first time. "I do so like these foreign flowers. They are so small like little stars."
Frodo was watching Sam. He looked down and detected the little white sprouts too. Seeing is how his protector liked them so much he plucked a little bud from the ground and handed it to him. Sam's face fell when he looked at it. "Oh, no, don't pick them like that!" Sam cried.
Frodo furrowed his brow. His protector was obviously dismayed. His voice rose and took a frightening pitch and a rough stagger. He did not like it. It did not feel gentle on his ears. *Have I done something wrong?* He looked at the flower. *What was wrong with it?* He turned it over and over but could not see the problem. Tears started in his eyes. His protector was displeased with him.
"Oh don't cry, Mr. Frodo, I didn't mean to holler." Frodo just kept his eyes downcast on the little bud he was twirling in his hand. Sam tried to explain as he took the flower from Frodo, "You cannot pick 'em when they're this young. They're weak and fragile." Frodo's eyes were swimming. Sam's voice was still not it's gentle tone, that's all Frodo noted. "It'll die before it can blossom." Sam continued slowly, tears starting in his own eyes for the death of the little flower. "Now you can't see how pretty it's gonna be, because now it's dead. You see dead. Dead." Sam held out the flower hoping Frodo would understand. He did not but he took note of the odd sound the words Sam's voice made. *Dead.* "You can't just go pickin' the pretty things out of the ground either, you kill 'em that way. Soon it will wither, it won't be pretty any more, and it has lost the chance to grow. It lost it's chance to live, Mr. Frodo. You don't wanna take that away."
Frodo stared at the flower blankly. He took it gently from Sam's hands and pocketed it. Whatever his protector didn't like about it, he still did, so he'd keep it. He sniffed again but his hiccoughs had gone away, still, he was very vulnerable right now. Sam could tell by the way his lip quivered. Anything would set him off.
Sam was silent. He wanted Frodo to get more comfortable. "...make him see that everything is not a threat..." Sam murmured lightly. The simple hobbit was looking about him curiously now until he saw three figures approach. Quickly Frodo stiffened and held his breath.
"No, Mr. Frodo, breathe. I'll make 'em go away." Sam was afraid that Frodo would panic again. He could not have that. Quickly he stood and the three figures stopped.
"Hello, Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin, who have we here?" said Sam politely. There was a little girl standing between them, nearly his own height. When she looked upon Sam she attempted a clumsy curtsey and fell with a swoosh of pretty colored dresses. She held something close to her and when Sam saw the little golden kitten he smiled. "So it's Emarin, isn't it."
She nodded, "Yes, Lord Samwise, I came looking for my brother." Her eyes fell on Frodo who had also been staring at her. They widened and she gasped. "It cannot be! Aren't you Frodo of Nine Fingers?" Frodo furrowed his brow again. He quite liked that babble that came out of this new creature too. It was high and squeaky yet tiny and soft. Not threatening. He stood up and examined her.
She set down her kitten and fumbled with the curtsey again. This time she succeeded. "How do you do?"
Frodo's eyes now watched the kitten as it stumbled towards him. *It's so small!* He watched as it bumped into his leg and shook its head. Emarin quickly scooped it up, "Kitten is sorry, Lord Frodo."
Frodo watched the little fluff ball cuddled against the girl's arms. Merry, Pippin, and Sam watched completely speechless as Frodo and Emarin plopped on the ground to watch the kitten stumble around. "She's barely got her legs working right yet," said Emarin who never seemed to have a problem chattering, nor did she seem to noticed Frodo's condition. He was just a playmate to her, and he listened! Something most grown ups never did! "And I haven't thought of a name for her yet. What do you think?" Frodo did not seem to be paying attention to her words. He smiled as he watched the kitten bat a blade of grass. *What a silly little thing!*
Pippin and Merry shrugged and decided to join the crowd. Soon enough they were all sitting in a circle watching the little kitten hobble around. Frodo did not even notice. The kitten had wandered over to Sam's lap and struggled to climb up his knee. He laughed and picked her up so he could see her more closely. "She's a very pretty color, Emarin. Gold with blue eyes like that. Like little jewels. Ya know what I think you should call her?"
"What?"
"Rosie. I've always been fond of that name."
Merry and Pippin snorted and Sam frowned at them. "It's a pretty name," he blushed. He handed the kitten to Frodo who just adored it. He set it in his lap gently and smiled as he stroked its fur. "You like her, Lord Frodo?" said Emarin as she watched the two. "I guess I can lend her to you, if you like, just for the time you're staying any way." Frodo was watching the kitten as it purred in his lap.
*What's that sound? What's that rumbling?* He lifted the kitten and woke it up, much to her distaste. He pressed his ear to her back and she meowed slightly. He gasped and jerked his head up.
"Oh, Mr. Frodo," said Sam, setting the kitten back in Frodo's lap, "I don't think she likes that much."
Emarin smiled, "Rosie likes Frodo."
Sam blushed again and Merry and Pippin burst into laughter. "Yes," giggled Pippin, "I thinks Rosie does like Frodo the best." Merry nodded between bouts of laughter, "Yeah, Pip, Rosie's rather fond of Frodo, don't you think so Sam?"
Sam grumbled and tried to hide his blushing, "Come on, Mr. Frodo, we should be goin' in now." Frodo obeyed as Sam helped him up, still clutching the kitten to him. Merry and Pippin waved as they rolled on the grass with laughter. Emarin got up quickly, dusted her dress, and followed. After all she wanted to see her brother.