Title: Hungry
Author: Frodo Baggins of Bag End (FrodoAtBagEnd/Febobe)
E-mail: febobe at yahoo dot com
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Aragorn. (Others to appear later.)
Rating: PG. This story falls within the guidelines of the FrodoHealers group in both letter and spirit, free from profanity or sexual content.
Feedback: Welcomed. Constructive only, please. . .no flaming.
Summary: After their rescue, Aragorn wants Frodo and Sam to only gradually return to eating solid food - but the appetites of hobbits will not be denied.
Story Notes/Announcements: A baby plot bunny from Shirebound's hutch, its tiny nose still wet, fed on lots of carrots and lettuces and love.
A special note for those concerned: it has been -weeks- since Frodo and Sam were rescued. That's why our little hobbit heroes are getting so tired of their liquid diet:)
See, some of you anticipated what was coming with Merry and Pippin intervening:D
For permission to reproduce any part of this fanfic, please contact febobe at yahoo dot com.
DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns. Original characters presented are my own work; please do not use my creations in your work. Please respect my original contributions. Furthermore, please do NOT consider any treatments or remedies within this story safe or effective for use: these are included as fictitious hobbit care, not real human medical practice, and while some can indeed be traced to actual therapeutic practices, could be dangerous. Please consult your health care professional before treating yourself or others for any condition or symptom.
HUNGRY
Part III: Samwise
"Mr. Frodo?"
"Leave me alone, Sam."
"Now, Mr. Frodo, there's no need to give up." I tried again for what seemed like the thousandth time that morning, rubbing his back to try and soothe him. He was in a pretty pique, had been ever since Aragorn took the trays. . .I reckon it fair near killed him. "Soon there will be elevenses. . .and luncheon. . .and. . .you never know. I'll try talking to him again."
"It's no use, Sam. No good."
I'd not heard so much despair in poor Mr. Frodo's voice since we neared the Cracks of Doom. Falling to rubbing his back in silence, I simply sat beside him, unable to find words of comfort. For a hobbit, there are no words of comfort to match a warm plate of food. . .and I could not give him that.
My heart broke at the thought.
"Sam?"
I looked up with a start. Master Merry peered in, with Master Pippin behind him, both their faces worried.
"Is - is he sleeping?"
"No. . .I'm awake." Mr. Frodo's voice was muffled by the pillows.
"We thought you might be sleeping," Master Pippin said.
Well, at this Master sat right up, giving his cousins a look to freeze beer sure's anything. "I'd like to see you sleep on an empty stomach! On the whole way up from Rivendell, you said you could hardly sleep on such light rations, and those were far more substantial than what Sam and I get now."
"What?" Young Master Pippin looked entirely calm. "It's hardly our fault we get lovely baked fish with apples and mustard, and freshly shelled peas, and new potatoes, and roast duck, and applesauce, and raspberry tarts. . . ."
"Pippin!" Mr. Merry and I both fairly shouted at once.
". . .and sticky toffee pudding, and poppyseed cake, and - what did they call those, Mer? - crab cakes? But they aren't cake at all; they're savouries, and - "
"PIPPIN!" Mr. Frodo looked ready to throttle him.
"I only thought you might rather hear than not. . . ." Master Pippin looked so sorry of a sudden, then, that I couldn't rightly be mad for long, hungry as his list had gone and made me or no. But my stomach protested, growling angrily, just around the same time Mr. Frodo's tummy let out a plea of its own. His cousins eyed us, and Mr. Merry went to sit by Mr. Frodo's bed, leaning over real gentle.
"Frodo - why don't Pippin and I go and get the two of you something to help tide you over? A proper meal, even? I know Aragorn's told the cooks to keep you on light liquids only, but - they'll give Pip or I whatever we want, and we can honestly say it's for us, because it's to make us feel better at the sight of you eating something decent again. As far as they're concerned, we're bottomless pits anyhow; a bit more food will hardly be noticed."
I looked at Master Pippin, who nodded.
And Mr. Frodo came fair near to jumping out of bed with joy. "Merry, you are a marvel beyond words, if you can do that! Mind our jailer doesn't catch you, now!"
"All right, then!" A grin, and the two of them disappeared quick as a wink. It hardly seemed longer before they were back, for Mr. Frodo and I neither one felt much like talking, and I noticed the silences. This one wasn't long.
"What do you say to this?" crowed Pippin proudly, depositing a picnic-hamper on Frodo's bed and opening it swiftly as Merry drew the curtains on the big bed, hiding us from prying eyes at least temporarily. Both Mr. Frodo and I would have fair gasped, but we were too busy hurrying to eat before Strider found us out again. Mr. Frodo, now, was still not strong enough to go too quickly, but he could put it away at a fair pace considering, and I hoped he'd get a bit of this down. Master Pippin and Mr. Merry had managed to make off with a good dozen hard-boiled eggs. . .cinnamon buns, still warm!. . .scones: cream, blueberry drop, and fresh peach. . .plenty of muffins, all kinds. . .several packets of sandwiches: some bacon, some jam, all enough to make a mouth water. . .some o'them nice jelly buns the Gondor folk call "dough-nuts". . .small apple pies and berry pies. . . .
"Thank you, sirs." I nodded for both of us, for Mr. Frodo was sinking his teeth into a muffin just then, closing his eyes in delight. "There now, sir, not too quick - don't want you upsetting your stomach - we'll hold him off if he comes."
A nod - Mr. Frodo seemed too engaged in eating to be irritated. The muffin - mushroom, from the look of things - disappearing at once, he turned to one of the little pies as I began shelling an egg for him, trying to settle him while eating a bacon sandwich at Merry's silent urging.
"Frodo?"
I didn't know it were possible for four people to freeze and scramble all at the same time.
"Frodo? Sam?" Strider was starting to sound worried now, and I felt almost guilty.
Almost.
"A - a moment, sir! We're - ah - that is - " I took the first excuse I could summon and ran with it, which in looking back might not, as my old gaffer would say, have been the sharpest tool in the shed. "Mr. Frodo's needing some privacy, sir!"
"Privacy?" Now Strider sounded confused. The others looked at me. Mr. Frodo glared, but it was too late. There weren't nothing for it.
"Yes, sir! He - he's trying to relieve himself - he's all right, mind, just - needs a good sit time, is all. Undisturbed."
Mr. Frodo dropped his face into his hands. "Sam. . . ."
Silence.
Footsteps.
Silence.
Suddenly the curtains were yanked back, and there stood Strider, half-stifling a laugh, though his eyes were dark with worry. Quicker than you could say pot he swooped down on that hamper and gathered up all the food.
"And what were you four doing?"
"Can't we eat with our cousin and companion, even if the food isn't the same?" Merry asked innocently enough.
"You could. Though to me that would seem cruel." Strider's forehead wrinkled up in furrows. . .and all a sudden he turned to us both. "All of you. Put out your tongues."
We would have tried to protest, but there wasn't any backtalk with him right then, so we put out our tongues. At once he shook his head, and we turned to look.
Frodo's tongue was tinged a light blue from the tastes of blueberry pie he'd managed to get.
"Eating with your cousin, eh?"
-to be continued-