The door opened and Pippin came bounding in. While he was distracted, I quickly wiped away any lingering tears from my cheeks and forced a pleasant smile across my face.

"Well, here it is!" Pippin said, holding up a chain mail tunic under a dark blue one embellished with the white tree of Gondor.

"It was Faramir's when he was young, you know. You met Faramir, didn't you?"

Faramir…

Our encounter had been so brief- he seemed to be dangerous and threatening when first we met, but he'd shown himself to be more than that when he released me and Sam. I did not have a true feel for who he was or what he stood for, but here was Pippin mentioning him by name and speaking of him as a friend- and having been given his armour... There seemed to be so much more to the story. There was so much I didn't understand about so many things.

"Yes, I met him…"

"You see this right here? Where it's been mended at the shoulder? That's from a sword slash- the chain mail stopped it from getting to my skin, but look here-" He said, hastily unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt and pulling it away from his left shoulder, revealing a dark bruise spanning a few inches, "That's from the blow."

I hissed in sympathy.

"Well look at this!" Merry said, pushing up his sleeve to show a bad bruise.

*knock-knock*

"Come in!" I called out.

I was pleasantly surprised to see Aragorn entering. He greeted us and we him as he walked to me with a curious bundle under his arms.

"What's that?" I asked.

"This-" He began, laying it out beside me on the bed, "-Is for you, my friend. A small gift from the very grateful people of Gondor."

It was a new set of clothes; a green velvet tunic adorned with silver buttons and trimming and a pair of velvet breeches in the same colour but a darker shade. I ran my hand over the soft material and smiled.

"It's… It's wonderful." I said, at a loss for words.

Aragorn pulled open the drapes further, letting more light into the room as Merry and Pippin admired my new clothes.

"How are your ribs treating you?" Aragorn asked, pulling up a chair.

I shrugged.

"I'm getting by alright…" I said, trying not to be peevish about it.

Merry and Pippin began comparing injuries with each other again at the end of the bed as Aragorn and I spoke.

"…I'm gl-d you cam-." I told him, my voice faltering. I cleared my throat, "'Scuse me."

"Forgive me for not coming to you sooner. I've been very busy." He said.

"I understand."

There was silence between us for a moment. I glanced at my left hand and then at the clock, wondering what could be taking Ryndil so long, and it seemed Aragorn was able to interpret my thoughts from my movements.

"If you're wondering where Ryndil is, he is out gathering some special herbs for the treatment of your finger." He said, hesitating ever so slightly at the word "finger". The disgusting stub could hardly be considered a finger at this point, though I'm not sure if this was the reason for his hesitation, or if it was simply because he wasn't sure if mentioning it would upset me, "He should r-"

"OW! Well, don't poke it!"Merry yelled loudly at Pippin, cupping his hand over a bruise above his hip, "I said look at it!"He mumbled.

My lips twisted and puckered to hold in a laugh and Aragorn sighed and seemed like he wanted to roll his eyes as he slowly turned his gaze from the two back to me, continuing where he was interrupted.

"-He should return shortly." He told me, speaking of Ryndil, with the hint of an amused smile tugging at his lips.

"Let's go, Pip, I'm starving." Merry said, "-And just for that dig, you're carrying me!"

"Nooo! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Pippin said, laughing, "I take it back!"

"'Can't! The damage has already been done!" Merry said, "Down!" He commanded.

"Owhhh!" Pippin whined as he slunk off of the bed and bent down.

Merry leapt onto his back and Pippin grunted.

"Owh, Merry! You're Frodo's weight ten times over!"

"Onward!" Merry said, extending his arm forward.

"Dedicated steed." Pippin whispered to me with a quick roll of the eyes, "Goodbye, Frodo!" He smiled.

"Bye, Frodo! 'Hope you feel better soon." Merry said.

"You too. Goodbye!" I returned.

Merry grabbed his crutches from the bed and urged Pippin on.

"Go! Go! Faster!"

They giggled as Pippin stumbled out of the room and out into the hall.

I'd had a lingering tickle in my throat since I woke that morning, but by now it was stronger. I did everything I could to repress a dreaded cough, but the urge was growing and it got to a point where I couldn't hold back any longer and began to cough badly. The pain from it was miserable.

"That's quite a nasty cough you've got." Aragorn said, rising from his seat, "Let me have a look." He said, leaning close and taking hold of my jaw, encouraging me to open my mouth.

He frowned as he peered down my throat and huffed mysteriously at his findings, then he examined my finger until the exposed edge of the spider's sting on my chest caught his eye. He carefully pulled my shirt back from it, his eyes narrowing in perplexity. He covered the sting again and felt my forehead with his wrist. Just then, Ryndil came through the door, a small basket in hand.

"Ryndil, come. Feel this-" Aragorn said immediately.

Ryndil cocked his head to the side with a furrowed brow and placed the hand-basket down on the table by the door before coming to me and replacing Aragorn's wrist with his own upon my brow. An expression of concern came over his face and he exchanged glances with Aragorn.

"Fever?" Aragorn asked.

Ryndil nodded soberly.

I begged in silent prayer that this would only be temporary- I wasn't sure I could physically endure any more complications.

Ryndil quickly took up my wrist and focused solely on the pulse, drowning out the world around him. Finally, he broke his trance and began interrogating me over my symptoms.

"Are you cold? Do you have chills?"

"Well, yes, but it's just quite cold in here." I said.

The look that was exchanged between Ryndil and Aragorn strongly suggested that I was quite alone in my judging of the room's temperature.

"Your throat, does it hurt?"

I nodded.

"Is it constant or only when you swallow?"

"Well… It's worse when I swallow."

"Can you breathe normally? As well as yesterday?"

"Yes, as well as yesterday…"

"Does your stomach feel sick? Any nausea?"

"Some…"

"Headache?"

"Yes…"

"How serious is it?" He asked.

"It's not too terrible..."

Ryndil listened to my breathing and examined my eyes. Once he finished, he hastily grabbed a up a cup and filled it with water, thrusting it into my hand.

"Drink this. All of it." He told me and went to get the basket of herbs he had brought in, then paused, looking to Aragorn for instructions. Aragorn rose and went to take the herbs from him and asked him to boil some water. A small pot was filled and placed over the fire along with another pot that Aragorn placed the plants in, to dry them, I suppose, and the pair excused themselves out into the hall for a few moments as I sipped on the water I was given.