Chapter Sixteen

Pink, orange, and slightly purple highlights seeped into the deep blue expanse of the sky as twilight gave way to morning.

The fading stars twinkled and Glorfindel looked up as he covered his charge more fully with his own cloak.

The four hobbits were curled together beneath the bows of an old fir tree; hiding, as well as sleeping, from any unfriendly eyes that may be peering from the brush.

The blonde Rivendell elf was not worried about Frodo at the present, he knew that his friends would take good care of him.

And even if he could do anything for the ring bearer, he was not about to leave Aragorn, raging with fever in the dark woods at night with Wraiths still on their tails.

He smiled sadly as he touched the man's forehead gingerly. Though he was burning up he pulled the blankets closer to Strider's chin. "There you are my friend." He breathed deeply turning his eyes to his horse as Asfaloth stomped impatiently and snorted, letting his mane fly upon the gently blowing breeze.

The blonde elf rolled his eyes. "Well, once Frodo wakes up, you can run him straight to Imladris. But, as of now, I can't imagine making those three walk a step further without a bit of rest." He chuckled. "No doubt Aragorn's been pushing them for days. He wouldn't be in such horrid shape if he hadn't…"

The gray horse snorted once more and flicking his tail turned so that his rear-end was facing Glorfindel. His gray and white tail glittered in the scarce moonlight and he pawed the earth, his great head tucked down to his strong chest.

The balrog-slayer laughed and shook his head. "You can't scare me! The last time you tried you ended up flat on your side in the Bruinen, remember?"

At this unfavorable memory, the great horse feel silent, save for a small neigh that escaped its throat, and did not move again for quite some time.

Yawning, Glorfindel turned back to Aragorn who was breathing hard, his face pinched in pain.

The Vanya sucked in a deep breath as he felt memories of better, as well as worse, times come forth into the light. He chuckled at a few of them, but did not stray from where he sat.

"Aragorn…" he clucked, touching his nose with a sad smile. "You couldn't ever give up on a poor lost soul, could you?" though he knew his question would go unanswered he still waited a moment. "One of these days…" he murmured only partially turning from his friend to glance at the sleeping hobbits. "One of these days I am going to be standing at your cold, dead body saying a prayer to Eru for you." He smiled softly and nearly jumped when he heard a deep, slurred voice answer.

"Y-yes, well. I could s-say the same for you."

Feeling startled, the elf jumped, extremely surprised that his friend was awake.

He quickly gained his composure and was met with Aragorn's grinning features his entire being at attention, well as attention as one with such a high fever could be.

Glorfindel chuckled lightly. "You could, could you? I don't think I find myself at death's door as often as you do my friend…"

Aragorn's eyes were slits as he listened quietly to the elf; his breath coming out in short gasps. "Ah, but I have never died before. Not yet anyway…"

Glorfindel shook his head and put a finger to Estel's lips, his eyes full of compassion. "Shhh. We'll not be talking about death. It isn't a pretty thing you know, especially when it finds you in ways such as these."

"There's no escaping it, Glorfindel."

He started as he heard the man use his name so nonchalantly; Aragorn never used his full name, and if by chance he did, it was because he was thinking deeply of something. And that itself was a rarity, well, at least he'd never seen the man so contemplative…

He shook his head. "Quiet now, Estel. I'll not have you waking the hobbits."

The man's face turned hard and stony. "What of Frodo?" he asked, a worried lilt easily noted in his usually monotone voice. "Is he safe?"

Glorfindel raked a hand through his blonde hair. "Well, he sleeps at the present, but his wound slowly grows worse. If we do not hasten, I doubt he will make it to Imladris."

At these words, the ranger slowly, painfully, tried to raise himself into a sitting position. He bit back a cry of pain as his side throbbed without mercy.

"Ah,ah,ah!" Glorfindel's voice was quiet as he leaned forward and pushed the man back down. His hands were gentle and though Estel did feel a little better, he obeyed his mentor and friend and lay back down.

"Glor, I cannot lie here all day. The wraiths are coming; we must get Frodo to safety." His eyelids suddenly felt heavy and he realized that something about this was not right. How could he be so tired? He was ill, yes. But, he had rested and should have at least some energy.

"Do not question your strength, my friend." He chuckled and held up a small cup and jingled it softly so that the man could hear it and the small amount of contents within. "The sleepy feeling is not your doing…"

The elf laughed as the man did his best to look emotionally hurt. "Oh, Glorfindel. I am astonished!" he let out a gasp as the pain in his side intensified. "Y-you would drug me?"

"Well," the blonde elf looked casual. "Someone had to do it. Besides, the sedatives are mild they shouldn't start working for a bit of time. You won't fall asleep because of them."

The man groaned and the elf saw the pain pass over his features; it was only momentary, but it was something that he would not let pass so lightly.

"What is wrong, Estel?" he looked away from the man, leaning idly against the log and staring into the forest, his keen eyes ever watchful. "Why are you so little worried for your own well-being?"

There it was again, that flash of pain. Had Glorfindel not known better he might say he could have seen it in the man's somber, pale eyes.

"I don't know what you mean…"

The answer was not satisfactory and the Vanya shook his head as he sifted through his rucksack. "I think you know very well what I mean, Estel." He stopped a moment and pulled out a thing bag, his eyes turning extremely serious as he opened the leathery pouch and dumped the white and red contents into a small bowl.

When Aragorn did not answer Glorfindel continued as he added a small amount of water and began to mix the concoction. "We have all been rather concerned, Estel." His voice dropped to a tentative whisper. " You've been away from home for quite some time. You obviously haven't been taking very good care of yourself."

"This?" Estel motioned cautiously to his side. "This was an accident, not of my doing-"

"Not that." The elf scoffed as he gently pointed to the man's stomach. "How long has it been since you ate something decent? How long since you slept an entire night? How long since you took a moment to care for yourself?"

When Aragorn did not speak, Glorfindel continued.

"I would like to know where that fun-loving boy is? The one who, no matter his problems or physical differences, was always full of love for others and always took care of himself? Where is he, Estel?"

The man licked his lips and breathed deeply, obviously having trouble catching his breath. "He grew up." Was his simple answer.

Glorfindel's heart clenched and he shook his head. "Aragorn, let go of the past; it is miles away! If what I have seen of Legolas is true, than he has completely surrendered what happened! He never speaks curses upon you…"

"I cannot mend that which does not wish to be restored." He turned his face away, closing his eyes and half-giving in to the sleep that was attempting to claim him. "It is not my fault, Glorfindel. I tried to renew our friendship, but he obviously does not wish it."

"How do you know he does not desire your friendship?" the blonde elf stopped and scowled. "By one letter? Come Estel, be reasonable."

The dark haired man snorted. "I have been reasonable. I did what was required of me to continue our friendship and he never replied. He never forgave me, Glorfindel!" he stopped a moment, eyes wide with pain and hand clenched to his side. "And I don't need an explanation from Legolas because I understand why!"

"Why then, Estel? Please help me to understand because I am a little lost."

The wind around them began to blow and Aragorn shivered with cold. He tried to press the blanket closer to himself, but he was all of the sudden feeling nauseated.

He gulped, his breathing becoming more and more labored and his mind wandering. "G-Glor-findel?" he tried his hardest to get the name out clearly, but everything within him was screaming and he couldn't distinguish anything anymore.

The blonde Vanya was now up on his knees, bowl of mashed herbs in hand. "Estel?" he breathed, reaching forward and checking the man's pulse.

It was violent and his breath was uneven. His entire body was convulsing with chills and he seemed to have grown far paler in the last few seconds.

"Estel?" he tried again to get the ill human to respond.

Seeming to hear the elf, the man turned his eyes upward but then gasped once, his eyes rolled back into his skull and he slowly downwards.

Grasping his friend's arm, the Vanya hauled the man upward over his shoulder in one great heave and without a moment's hesitation ran towards the sleeping hobbits.

He tapped each upon the foot, all save the one called Frodo, and quickly motioned towards the large gray horse standing in the corner of the glade.

"Set Frodo upon Asfaloth is you are able. If you can not awaken him, one of you will ride with him."

Unsure of what exactly was happening, the frightened hobbits obeyed and as Sam and Merry tried their best to awaken their friend Pippin ran towards the monstrous horse.

The young being looked wide-eyed upon the beast and for a moment, he hesitated, easily showing the fear that was running through him by his wild shivering.

The horse, Asfaloth, seemed to notice the little beings fright and slowly, as if approaching a small doe, took a few large, powerful steps towards Pippin.

The beast's great eyes shown compassion and, for the first time in his life, Pippin felt the bravery within him overpower the terror.

"Mighty big beast, aren't ya." He said softly, his eyes showing dread and at the same time showing courage and hope.

As if to answer the hobbit, Asfaloth whinnied softly, trying his best not to scare the little creature.

Reaching up, Pippin gulped and grasped the reins as the horse bent his head downward. Both beast and hobbit shared a tentative look before Pippin smiled excitedly and looked over to Merry and Sam.

It seemed that Frodo had awoken, but that was no condolence for he could hardly walk a straight line, if he could walk at all?

Sam and Merry were supporting the oldest hobbit, obviously afraid that too much strain might break him.

All the while they were murmuring comforting things to Frodo who was breathing as if each step was agony. Pippin, had the situation not been so grave, would have laughed for Frodo looked almost as if he was attempting to impersonate a dog; his tongue was out and his breaths were so loud that they seemed to echo within the small comfortable glade.

Pippin, feeling as if this was taking an eternity, turned to look at Glorfindel.

The Vanya was tenderly setting his human friend upon the waiting back of their faithful pony Bill.

At first the hobbit was not sure if Bill would be able to take this load, but the pony showed his true loyalty by standing patiently as Glorfindel carefully tied the man to the back of the small beast.

"There you go mellon nin." He whispered patting Aragorn's back and feeling his cheeks. "Good thing your thinner than the average man, aye?" he questioned the unconscious being with a sad chuckle. "But," he sighed. "Don't you worry about that- there's a whole feast back home and I'm going to make you eat all of it, you hear." Glorfindel grasped Bill's reins and led the pony towards the rest of the group.

The elf was still talking, but stopped when he saw Pippin's eyes intently on them. He glared back, that sparkle of humor in his deep blue eyes. "Hey!"

The hobbit started and shivered.

"No eavesdropping! Is that clear you little hooligan!"

Pippin, still shaking hard with absolute fright saluted sloppily. "Aye sir!"

The smile on the elf's face eased the hobbit, but he did not completely calm down as Glorfindel continued speaking as Merry and Sam attempted one more time to get Frodo safely upon the large, gray horse.

"Now, I see no purpose in lying about things that are clearly visible, so I will tell you the truth." His smile was disconcerting and you could see in his eyes that he was worried for both his friend and Frodo. "Strider is very ill. He has a extremely dangerous infection and I cannot cure it here." He stopped and looked to the oldest of the hobbits, Frodo, who had now been safely deposited upon Asfaloth.

"Your friend, Frodo, is also very ill and I also do not have the means to cure him. However," he looked at the ground as if to gather his words then looked up. "Lord Elrond is a masterful healer and can help both, but Rivendell is still a little ways a way and we ARE being pursued by wraiths. I have no condolences to offer you now except to say that by my sword and the breath in my chest, I will protect you best as I can in Strider's stead."

Sam licked his lips and took a deep breath, then promptly raised his small trembling hand.

Curious by this, Glorfindel nodded in his direction.

Taking a moment to gather his words, the gardener looked pained and with a small tremor in his voice he asked his question. "Are you as good a guide as Strider?"

"Are you as good a warrior?" Merry piped from behind Sam, his expression sheepish.

Feeling a bit dumbfounded, the elf stood tall and looked them all straight in the eye. "No." he stopped a moment and with a smile as he searched the small group he added. "But I will do my best to protect and guide you, that is all I can do and nothing more. I…" he chuckled dryly suddenly feeling the wryness of the moment. "I am going to ask you to trust me."

Behind them all, Asfaloth's saddle creaked and they looked to see Frodo sitting up, a cringe on his face but in his eyes there was humor. With a smile and quick look to Aragorn he breathed deeply. "I think we can do that."

TBC