Disclaimer: In this story, I do not own the characters created by J.R.R
Tolkien. I wish I did but I don't.
Summary: A friendship where you would lay your life down for your friends, is the type of friendship that Sam, Merry, and Pippin have with Frodo. A friendship such as this doesn't start just anywhere. This pre-LotR story shows how friendship and sacrifice go hand. This story takes place five years after Bilbo's departure from the Shire. note: h/c, angst, no slash.
Alisa Joy- Did you just say I have great characterization? :::does happy dance::: My goal of characterization is achieved! You do not understand how happy this makes me. Yes, I hate killing characters, but I had to do it for the sake of the story. I am glad you liked my little humorous additions. I really enjoyed writing them.
Iorhael- It is great to hear from you! If you think the hobbits are in the middle of confusion now, then just wait till chapter 10! :::smiles evilly:::
Aemilia Rose- Welcome! Haha, I am sorry you got dizzy. That part made me dizzy when I wrote it. Please don't go insane, I am updating now.
MBradford- I feel bad that I have been behind on sending you chapters :::cowers::: It is the nasty schoolses and tricksy homeworkses, precious. Sorry about my Gollum moment there, I am better now. Anyway I still need to type out the next couple chapters to send to you.
Ch. 9
Downpour
"Merry can you hear me?" Came Pippin's concerned voice.
"Pippin?" Merry said weakly while trying to focus on the blurry figure that sat next to him.
"Yes it's me," Pippin said as he held Merry's hand in his.
"Something isn't right Pip. A storm is brewing," said the fevered hobbit.
"What are you talking about Mer?"
"It is coming."
"You are delirious. Nothing is coming. Just relax, Frodo is-"
"Where is Frodo?" Merry yelled in a panicked voice. "You can't let him do it, Pippin, you can't!"
Pippin's eyes were brimming with tears. He felt so helpless. "Calm down, Merry, or you are going to hurt yourself. Frodo is getting a healer. Rest now. Everything is going to be fine."
With Pippin's last words of comfort, Merry fell back into a restless sleep.
"You will be fine Merry. Frodo and I wont let anything bad happen to you, I promise."
~*Bywater*~
"I am glad you could all make it to this meeting. I am Dr. Seredic Broadbelt and I have called all you healers here to discuss a matter of great importance. As you all read in the letter I sent the death of the young lad, Mosco Goodbody, is something we need to discuss for this is no normal childhood death. The lad has died of a mysterious and deadly disease that we need to identify. To describe the symptoms and characteristics of the disease I call upon Dr. Rosa Grubb. Dr. Grubb was the healer who took care of Mosco Goodbody."
Dr. Grubb stepped towards the front of the group and said, "I was first called to the Goodbodys' residence about two weeks ago. Mr. And Mrs. Goodbody said that Mosco had been complaining about a headache and abnormal fatigue. His symptoms were flu-like, so I gave him pain medicine and told him get a lot of rest. I thought nothing more of it till three days later when I was called back. According to the Goodbodys, Mosco was perfectly healthy and fine just days after my diagnosis, and then just as suddenly became violently ill. It seemed like this disease had a mind of its own. By letting the lad's symptoms leave suddenly, it caused him to become more active, therefore causing the disease to spread faster. Mosco's symptoms soon turned fatal and out of my capability of healing him."
Dr. Goldworthy stood up and spoke in a haughty tone, "It sounds to me as if the lad got sick with one thing, then got sick with something later. This whole 'mysterious disease' business is preposterous."
"Then what do you think he could have gotten to kill him so fast after being seemingly fine?" fired Dr. Hornblower.
"Dr. Hornblower, I thought you had more class than to be sucked up into this cockamamie idea. I know I am right, I am never wrong." Dr. Goldworthy said.
"How do you know you are right? Your idea has just as much consequence as theirs. I recommend that you don't assume that you are right and that others are wrong just because you get paid twice as much as most of us!" shot Dr. Bunce.
After that Dr. Goldworthy said no more and Dr. Boffin stood forward, "Dr. Broadbelt and Dr. Grubb, lets say that you are right about this disease. What do we do if we think one of our patients has it?"
There was a wave of silence in the room, a silence so piercing that if a pin was to drop it would sound like Gandalf's fireworks going off. In this silence only one word rang out.
"Ramora."
All the healers turned to the direction of the voice that spoke. All their eyes met in the direction of 90 year old Dr. Gorbadoc Bolger. Dr. Bolger slowly rose from his seat with the help of his crutch. He lifted his head to all the healers in the room and then he looked straight at Dr. Grubb.
In a voice deepened by the smoking of pipeweed and old age Dr. Bolger spoke. "Dr. Grubb you must tell me something and you must be extremely precise. Was there any rash on the lad's arms or shoulders?"
Dr. Grubb thought back to every time she saw the lad, pressing her mind hard for any hidden clues. Her mind cleared and she spoke, "Yes, I remember a rash on his left shoulder blade. It was a red circle with pink pockmarks and on one side it looked bruised." Dr. Bolger's face went pale.
"Sweet eru, not again!"
~*TBC*~
Summary: A friendship where you would lay your life down for your friends, is the type of friendship that Sam, Merry, and Pippin have with Frodo. A friendship such as this doesn't start just anywhere. This pre-LotR story shows how friendship and sacrifice go hand. This story takes place five years after Bilbo's departure from the Shire. note: h/c, angst, no slash.
Alisa Joy- Did you just say I have great characterization? :::does happy dance::: My goal of characterization is achieved! You do not understand how happy this makes me. Yes, I hate killing characters, but I had to do it for the sake of the story. I am glad you liked my little humorous additions. I really enjoyed writing them.
Iorhael- It is great to hear from you! If you think the hobbits are in the middle of confusion now, then just wait till chapter 10! :::smiles evilly:::
Aemilia Rose- Welcome! Haha, I am sorry you got dizzy. That part made me dizzy when I wrote it. Please don't go insane, I am updating now.
MBradford- I feel bad that I have been behind on sending you chapters :::cowers::: It is the nasty schoolses and tricksy homeworkses, precious. Sorry about my Gollum moment there, I am better now. Anyway I still need to type out the next couple chapters to send to you.
Ch. 9
Downpour
"Merry can you hear me?" Came Pippin's concerned voice.
"Pippin?" Merry said weakly while trying to focus on the blurry figure that sat next to him.
"Yes it's me," Pippin said as he held Merry's hand in his.
"Something isn't right Pip. A storm is brewing," said the fevered hobbit.
"What are you talking about Mer?"
"It is coming."
"You are delirious. Nothing is coming. Just relax, Frodo is-"
"Where is Frodo?" Merry yelled in a panicked voice. "You can't let him do it, Pippin, you can't!"
Pippin's eyes were brimming with tears. He felt so helpless. "Calm down, Merry, or you are going to hurt yourself. Frodo is getting a healer. Rest now. Everything is going to be fine."
With Pippin's last words of comfort, Merry fell back into a restless sleep.
"You will be fine Merry. Frodo and I wont let anything bad happen to you, I promise."
~*Bywater*~
"I am glad you could all make it to this meeting. I am Dr. Seredic Broadbelt and I have called all you healers here to discuss a matter of great importance. As you all read in the letter I sent the death of the young lad, Mosco Goodbody, is something we need to discuss for this is no normal childhood death. The lad has died of a mysterious and deadly disease that we need to identify. To describe the symptoms and characteristics of the disease I call upon Dr. Rosa Grubb. Dr. Grubb was the healer who took care of Mosco Goodbody."
Dr. Grubb stepped towards the front of the group and said, "I was first called to the Goodbodys' residence about two weeks ago. Mr. And Mrs. Goodbody said that Mosco had been complaining about a headache and abnormal fatigue. His symptoms were flu-like, so I gave him pain medicine and told him get a lot of rest. I thought nothing more of it till three days later when I was called back. According to the Goodbodys, Mosco was perfectly healthy and fine just days after my diagnosis, and then just as suddenly became violently ill. It seemed like this disease had a mind of its own. By letting the lad's symptoms leave suddenly, it caused him to become more active, therefore causing the disease to spread faster. Mosco's symptoms soon turned fatal and out of my capability of healing him."
Dr. Goldworthy stood up and spoke in a haughty tone, "It sounds to me as if the lad got sick with one thing, then got sick with something later. This whole 'mysterious disease' business is preposterous."
"Then what do you think he could have gotten to kill him so fast after being seemingly fine?" fired Dr. Hornblower.
"Dr. Hornblower, I thought you had more class than to be sucked up into this cockamamie idea. I know I am right, I am never wrong." Dr. Goldworthy said.
"How do you know you are right? Your idea has just as much consequence as theirs. I recommend that you don't assume that you are right and that others are wrong just because you get paid twice as much as most of us!" shot Dr. Bunce.
After that Dr. Goldworthy said no more and Dr. Boffin stood forward, "Dr. Broadbelt and Dr. Grubb, lets say that you are right about this disease. What do we do if we think one of our patients has it?"
There was a wave of silence in the room, a silence so piercing that if a pin was to drop it would sound like Gandalf's fireworks going off. In this silence only one word rang out.
"Ramora."
All the healers turned to the direction of the voice that spoke. All their eyes met in the direction of 90 year old Dr. Gorbadoc Bolger. Dr. Bolger slowly rose from his seat with the help of his crutch. He lifted his head to all the healers in the room and then he looked straight at Dr. Grubb.
In a voice deepened by the smoking of pipeweed and old age Dr. Bolger spoke. "Dr. Grubb you must tell me something and you must be extremely precise. Was there any rash on the lad's arms or shoulders?"
Dr. Grubb thought back to every time she saw the lad, pressing her mind hard for any hidden clues. Her mind cleared and she spoke, "Yes, I remember a rash on his left shoulder blade. It was a red circle with pink pockmarks and on one side it looked bruised." Dr. Bolger's face went pale.
"Sweet eru, not again!"
~*TBC*~