(A/N: Again, don't try this at home)

Chapter Five-Of Blood and Pain

Merry's foot was not as hairy as the other hobbits', so that was one less concern on Aragorn's mind as he tied a strip of cloth tightly around the halfling's calf. When he was satisfied that no more blood flowed in the leg, he began to suck the venom out. Merry was quiet throughout the entire ordeal, except for one whimper, though his eyes kept straying to the limp form of his cousin. He should have been more careful.

Patting the halfling on the knee, Aragorn rose to mix some herbs to neutralize the poison. Merry gagged as he sipped it. "This tastes terrible…it makes me feel so c-cold," he complained with a shiver.

As Boromir settled his cloak around the shaking hobbit, the ranger smiled grimly, "I'm sorry little one, I know it tastes terrible. Try to stay calm and as still as possible. With luck, you'll be on your feet again in no time!"

Turning to Pippin and Gimli, he lowered his voice, "You'll need to keep him warm. The mixture slows the blood flow, and I do not want him to catch a chill." The tween's wide, frightened eyes locked with his until Pippin nodded slowly. It was time for Pippin so show his caliber.

Strider then returned to Frodo's side and took the herbal mixture he had prepared earlier into his hands. The hobbit had calmed and appeared to be asleep, so he gently took the hobbit from Gandalf and began calling his name. When at last pain-laced eyes focused on his face, he smiled, "Drink this, little one. It will make your rest easier and your pain lighter."

With Aragorn supporting his head, the halfling drank eagerly, surprised at the pleasant taste. He looked up at the ranger again, "Strider…we have to…go...no time for…me…" Aragorn shushed him, though he was much relieved that Frodo was able to speak with him. "Aragorn-if…if I don't…make it…who will…"

Frodo lapsed into a fit of coughing, spraying blood on his lips. The ranger could only watch. When the fit ceased, he replied softly to the ring bearer, "Do not think about it right now. Lord Elrond will decide if it comes to that."

"So I was right…" Frodo said with a quiet acceptance, "How bad?"

Estel flinched and tried to reassure the hobbit, "Lord Elrond can help you better than I." However, he refused to lie to the ailing ring bearer.

Leaving Sam at Frodo's side, Aragorn pulled Legolas and Gandalf aside and softly told of his plans, "We need to start toward Rivendell before Frodo worsens. Legolas, your gait is the smoothest, I want you to carry him. Merry can ride Bill, and perhaps Pippin as well. Seeing all of this has been quite a shock to him, and to Samwise as well. I dread what it will do to him if Frodo does not survive. Gandalf, see if you can distract him. He will undoubtedly be loathe to leave Frodo. Perhaps some humor, or stories about Bilbo's adventures will calm him."

Gandalf set to his task straight away, but getting Sam to even look up was a task in itself. The wizard lowered himself to the hobbit's level and said gently, "I know it's difficult, Samwise, but you must keep faith."

"Faith-keep faith?" Sam nearly spat the words, "Of all people why'd it have to happen to Mr. Frodo? Why? You say keep faith, but there isn't any faith left to be had. Why do decent people have to suffer? He's going to die, can't you see it? There's no use hoping any longer."

Gandalf didn't scold him, or even argue. Instead, he gathered the hobbit into his arms and let him sob miserably. They had indeed been dealt a most grievous blow.