This story is based on the original and heroic characters of J.R.R. Tolkein. I admire his work greatly and am profiting only in the "workout" his characters give my imagination!
Thanks to any and all who read, enjoy ( or not) and review my stories....have fun as it continues!
FrodoBaggins87...our poor, long suffering hobbit does indeed get "attacked" by the ruffians....a necessary link to later painful memories I'm afraid! Thanks for your review of GotV!
Iorhael...Our hobbit is actually "middle aged" in the world of hobbits....I hope you'll continue reading...I really am enjoying your latest! I can't compete with you for angst...but I certainly shall try!
Endymion2...Ruffians seem drawn to Frodo...perhaps because his inherent "goodness" is something they can only "take" since they have none themselves....The "rescuers" do not send for the King for reasons which will be revealed in the next few chapters....as for anatomy...I, having been on a ski-patrol and having found internal injuries, knew that injuries to spleen, liver etc would be assessed by palpating quadrants of the abdomen....while the Kidneys are located "further back"...I guess the referred pain would be found in an examination of the abdomen...I, obviously, am not a Doctor and just want my details to seem "plausible"...please keep after me though, I need to think these things out!
Read on.....
Faces of War: Chapter 8
Missing
Sam approached his master's chamber quietly, it was a bit earlier than elevensies, but he just could n't wait any longer. 'Mister Frodo's been through it all 'e 'as....I 'ad no call ta be grumpin' at 'im as I was yesterday' Sam thought to himself as he got closer to the door of Frodo's chambers. He felt terrible about his outburst and after explaining his aggravation to Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin at the banquet last night, he felt even worse. ' Mr. Merry's right as rain in his thinking...Mister Frodo's jest tired a bein' fussed at...'e's jest wantin' ta do 'is share ta help....as we all are" as Sam rounded the corner and drew closer to Frodo's door he thought ' e never wants ta be a bother...wants ta be left in some peace and quiet I expect...well, if it's quiet e's wanting....'is Sam can near ta disappear I can be so quiet....like with the ring' he found himself thinking, then shuddered at the images that evil piece of jewelry conjured up. His footsteps quickened, he was anxious to make his peace with his master.
As the door to Frodo's chamber came into view, Sam narrowed his eyes suspiciously, for Frodo's dinner and breakfast tray lay untouched outside his master's door. 'I knew it" he said to himself ' e's gone and got 'imself sick again....the events of the market were jest too much fer 'im. All Sam's previous resolutions fled from his mind as he burst through his master's door ready to give him a piece of his frazzled hobbit mind.
"Now see 'ere Mr. Frodo" he said as he strode purposefully into the silent chamber"Mr. Frodo?" He looked around puzzled, Frodo was nowhere to be seen, his bed was made...in his somewhat careless fashion, and his nightshirt had not even been slept in. A moment of panic took him as a quick search of his master's belongings showed that his plain clothes, cloak and mithril shirt were gone. With a sinking feeling in his stomach he turned to the spot by the window that held his master's sward and noticed with growing fear that Sting was still there....leaning awkwardly in it's scabbard. 'Great stars of the Valar, 'e's gone ta find that lass from the market 'e 'as" he thought as he ran to get the king.
As the day wore on, Terren became more and more worried. Frodo's fever grew and his delirium started. Terren struggled to get the hobbit to drink, knowing that keeping fluids washing through his ailing body would help reduce the build up of blood poisons from his damaged kidneys. After angling the hobbit in such a way to help him swallow, Terren managed to be proficient enough in this act to get Frodo to drink three cups of water in the 4 or 5 hours he'd been there with them. He knew that soon the ill Hobbit would need to empty his waters and he gestured to Ramble to bring the privy pot. He positioned it and in moments Terren was restraining a wildly flailing Hobbit as Frodo's pain drove him to the brink and he screamed. Terren did his best to make the sick hobbit comfortable but one look in the privy pot confirmed his fears. There was blood in his waters and Terren knew that this meant high fever and debilitating pain would not be too far behind.
Rumeil came closer and tried to sooth the stricken Hobbit with cool compresses to his forehead. "What is it Terren? Why did e yelp when ye had im pass his waters?" the boy asked concern crinkling his brow. Terren frowned "there's blood in 'is waters...e's been 'urt on the inside and he tis bleeding'" the healer sighed as he looked through his herbs "I've none 'o the greens I'm needing to promote blood strengthening." Just then an exuberant Rosetta came to the cave entrance, with an armful of bright yellow dandelions. Terren's frown changed to a smile "leastways I didn't till a moment ago....good lass...can ye find Terren more jest like these?" He said gently to the smiling five year old. "Oh yes, dolly and I know where there are lots 'o daisies Terren". Ramble shook his head and started to correct his sister's name for the flower in her hand but a quick squeeze from Terren's hand stopped him. "There's a good lass, now ye run ta find as many as ye can....and bring yer brother back from the slag heap when ye return." Terren suggested. " Oh aye" said Rosetta and then pausing to look to the silent figure on the ground she asked "how is 'e Terren? Did them ruffians hurt 'im real bad?" she asked lower lip starting to tremble. Terren knelt in front of her "e's taken some bad hurts lass, but yer Terren has a few tricks up 'is sleeve, don't ye be worrying now....off with ye" With a last look at Frodo, Rosetta skipped back out into the sunshine from the damp cool confines of their cave.
Terren took up the batch of flowers that Rosetta'd left and he quickly separated the stems and leaves from the flowers. He set the water pot above their fire and set to stewing the dandelion greens with a mixture of marigolds and coneflowers. As the infusion was steeping he carefully changed the dressings on Frodo's wounds, happy to see that the bleeding was at least slowing from the abraded area. He poured the infusion to a mug and let it cool a bit as he positioned Rumeil and rolled the Hobbit from his front to his back. Carefully pulling Frodo to a seated position leaning into Rumeil's arms he held the cooled mug to the pale and sweating hobbit's lips. Frodo drank slowly, head lolling weakly, eyes not opened and whispered "Thank you
Sam". He was instantly asleep again as Terren gently re-positioned him on his stomach. "We'll need ta keep 'is backside up ta try and slow the bleeding' " Terren explained as Rumeil watched his ministrations. Rumeil nodded slowly, then looking thoughtfully at the halfling asked "who do ye suppose Sam is then?" Terren paused before answering "I don't know fer sure, but the King is rumored ta have four halflings with 'em....I'd guess that Sam is his friend...or perhaps his kin."
A little while later Rosetta was back, with another armful of "daisies" that she handed to Terren for him to use in the strengthening of his infusion. Right behind her was Kylos "See Kylos, there's the nice boy who saved me dolly" she said pointing to Frodo while a smile played upon her face. Kylos scowled and turned to Terren, " e's the King's halfling" he said tersely "the other slag boys at the outer wall are saying the King's sending out search parties throughout the city ta find 'em". Terren nodded and leaving Frodo's side a moment walked to Kylos "e's not jest a halfling Kylos, e's the Ringbearer...and if we move 'em now 'e'll die and we'll all pay for the King's displeasure." Kylos stared, lips set in a thin hard line, at the pale and fragile form lying motionless upon his blankets in his cave and he asked "if 'e gets well in out care?" Terren sighed, knowing how Kylos' mind worked and he replied "If e's made well and is able ta tell 'is side 'o the story....then I should think the King'd show us 'is pleasure instead." Kylos looked from the hobbit to Terren and allowed his gaze to wander the dank inside of the cave they called home "then we make 'im well" he said stonily and he left.
Kylos set out from the camp with a frown, he'd heard the boys toiling at the outer wall, the "slag boys" who toiled from sun up to dusk, earning mere coppers for the task of clearing the debris left by the war. He'd heard them tell their tales of the Palace, the comforts, the food, the warmth and security that he could only dream of. He clenched his fists and furrowed his brow in anger, since Saurman's rampaging armies had raided his family's farm, it'd been nothing but bone wearying hardship. He closed his eyes a moment and heard again the voice of his Da as the screams of frightened livestock and commotion of frantic villagers filled the air "yer my eldest Kylos, make me proud boy...take yer brother and sister ta the hills and don't come back till we
send fer ye". His Ma and Da never came, and finally forced to come home when the food ran out, he'd found the bodies. He became a man that day.....and as he'd buried his parents and dug through the wreckage of their home to find any salvageable items, his heart hardened and he assumed the mantle of guardian as he, five year old Rosetta and 8 year old Rumeil joined the thousands of refugees streaming towards the city. Their trek had taken weeks, weeks of little food and no shelter...but the refugees had walked,old, young, injured and dying they walked in a dazed and broken state, hundreds of them arrived each day at the City of the Tower Guard. Minas Tirith, they had hoped for salvation here, had held in their hearts the belief that their King would help them, but there were just too many, too many and life in the camp was not much better than life on the road had been. Kylos continued walking as he reflected on the past months, his own thin frame had strengthened under the strain of work in the slag heaps and he was grateful for his health. He shook his head as he thought of Rumeil, his brother, the dreamer, the artist, the one who'd suffered most from their trials. He'd become sick as soon as they'd entered the city...'tis a bit of good luck that I found Terren when I did' he thought, and he recalled all the elderly healer had done to help when Rumeil came down with the lung sickness. Kylos, as grateful as he was to Terren for his help, would not relinquish his job as guardian,would not allow the healer to help with food or supplies, he made it his responsibility to work and find food for the family, he would make his Da proud.... he stared at the coopers in his hand. A day's wage, money enough to feed three for two meals at best....well, he would stretch it to cover the five mouths at camp. He scowled and made his weary feet travel to 3 different markets to find the provisions he could afford to buy, or found a chance to beg.
Aragorn slammed his hand down on the map table as Faramir and Legolas both started in response to the abruptness of the noise. Gandalf looked up from under his bushy eyebrows to admonish the King "anger will not lead us to him Aragorn." Aragorns hardened features twisted into a scowl " I show only my anger at my own foolishness, I can not forgive myself for underestimating the stubbornness of the ringbearer." A quiet and soothing voice at his side said "were it not for that stubbornness Aragorn, your worries today would not trouble you." Legolas said wisely. Faramir lifted his head from his contemplation of the map before him "Master Gamgee said that Frodo's confrontation in the market happened here" he said as he pointed to a spot on the map and then continued "and yet you said the established camps were to be found mostly here...at these levels close to the outer wall." "Yes, yes....and Frodo did not go past these levels during his expedition yesterday, so would not know of the other camps." Aragorn said through clenched teeth. Faramir shook his head and boldly added "you underestimate him sire, against the greatest of all enemies he made it through to Mordor, do you not think he could make it to the lower levels of the city?" Aragorn nodded grimly "yes I do, and that is precisely what I fear most. The worst elements of Gondorian society have taken up residence in the areas closest to the ruins of the outer wall." He paused to look over the map once more then to Faramir "all in the city know of the high regard in which the hobbits are held....the ringbearer most of all, and there are those who do not feel Gondor's resources should be given so freely to people not of this region, they resent the hobbits....and I fear that Frodo may have been taken by those who would demand riches for his return. We may continue to search gentleman, but tis a fools hope that he'll be found while money is to be had by his safe return." Aragorn stared numbly at the map before him. Gandalf placed a comforting hand upon the King's shoulder "and what of Samwise? How is he taking this?" the wizard gently asked. Aragorn smiled sadly "after treating me to a variety of the names he felt his gaffer would choose to call him by, he retreated to the kitchens to spread word among the servants, that they in turn may solicit the aid of their families. " The king ran his hands through his unruly brown locks and furrowed his brow " I feel powerless in a way that even Sauron could not have made me....for now I do not even know whom to fight."