Whilst everyone else seemed to enjoy a hearty breakfast of bread and fruit, Sam ate naught but a bit of apple and even that he shared with Frodo. The younger hobbit perched in the very centre of his seat, hands clenching white knuckled at the sides. Sitting behind him, Frodo could see him shaking a little and when Sam turned to glance to the side his master felt compassion surge within him when he saw the pale face.

Frodo felt a light tap on his shoulder and looked back to find Aragorn holding out a small wooden box. The ranger nodded at Sam in the prow.

"Give him a piece of this. It is candied ginger."

Frodo smiled gratefully as he accepted the box and opened it, leaning forward to his friend.

"Sam. Try a bit of this. It will settle your stomach."

Sam turned carefully and peered suspiciously into the box, his face showing relief when he recognised the contents. Candied ginger was a remedy often used in the Shire for nausea and he selected one of the larger pieces and popped it into his mouth before turning back nervously to face forward.

"Thank you, Mr Frodo."

Frodo rubbed his friend's back gently and handed the box back to Aragorn. He could understand Sam's predicament for his own stomach was beginning to dislike the motion of the boat . . . although it had felt alright the previous day. Putting his discomfort down to the early start, Frodo picked up his paddle once more. His body had never been very good at dealing with mornings.

By lunchtime Frodo was quite pleased when Aragorn, in deference to Sam's stomach, decided to pull in to shore for a while. The Ringbearer's own innards were disquieted and the constant sitting in one position was giving him pins and needles in his right foot. While the rest of the party tucked into a hearty meal Frodo found himself sitting on the edge of the clearing with Sam . . . sharing a little bread and some cool water.

Frodo stretched out his right leg and wiggled his toes in an attempt to rid himself of the uncomfortable tingling in his foot. Even in his miserable condition the movement was not lost on Sam.

"Are you alright, Mr Frodo?"

His master only chuckled. "I think that the folks in Hobbiton are right and hobbits and boats are not made for each other." He made an attempt to stretch some of the kinks out of his back and shoulders.

"I think that if we have to paddle much farther today my shoulders will seize up completely and I shall lose all feeling in my bottom from that hard bench. And my foot seems to be going to sleep. Who would imagine that elves could create such an uncomfortable conveyance?" Frodo chuckled.

"Not that I need my foot much when I'm paddling but I have got used to it being there on the end of my leg and it is disconcerting when I can't feel it."

"Are you feeling unwell too, Frodo?" came Aragorn's voice from behind them. Both hobbits jumped. For a big person, it seemed to Sam, that the man could move far too quietly.

The Ringbearer took a large swallow of water before replying, hoping that he would look healthy. Aragorn had dosed him with one or two different herbal remedies after Weathertop and the only thing that Frodo remembered for certain about them was that they tasted unpleasant. He pasted on a bright smile before looking up at the tall ranger, who had moved to stand before him now.

"I am quite well, thank you Aragorn. I think my stomach is just not used to the motion of the boats yet."

Their leader looked as though he was going to say more but instead he simply hunkered down and offered each the open box of candied ginger. Both hobbits took a bit gratefully.

The afternoon passed uneventfully, apart from a moment of panic when Frodo dropped his paddle. Unused to such exercise, his hands were joining the protest of his foot and beginning to tingle. Hardly surprising, Frodo thought, when he saw the blisters beginning to form on his palms.

When they made camp for the evening Aragorn applied a liberal amount of salve to the palms of all three of the hobbit paddlers for they were all developing blisters. Men, elf and dwarf were long used to handling weapons and their palms found no difference between axe, sword or paddle but the only hobbit used to manual labour was the only one that could not be trusted with a paddle . . . Sam.

Lying in his blankets Frodo clenched and unclenched his fists a few times. The salve numbed the blisters and cooled the skin but he could still feel that annoying tingle in his fingers and now he seemed to have it in both feet. His stomach was unhappy enough to send him to his bed without supper too. With a deep sigh he rolled onto his side and snuggled into his blankets. Boats. All very well for a nice afternoon fishing on the gentle Brandywine. Not as much fun after several hours paddling in a swift flowing current.

o0o

Frodo awoke to the sounds of murmured conversation and opened sleep-fogged eyes to another watery grey predawn morning. His hands and feet still tingled but the blisters no longer hurt and when he investigated his palms he found they were no longer red and hot. Getting up, he joined the others at the meagre fire and Sam offered him a mug of thin hot broth and a chunk of slightly stale bread. It was fairly tasteless but as Frodo's stomach was still protesting it was about all he could cope with anyway. He rubbed his neck to try and alleviate a slight headache. No matter how long they travelled he still missed the feather mattresses and pillows of Bag End and even Lorien could not compete.

Frodo sipped his broth carefully and smiled across the small fire at Sam. "How is your stomach this morning, Sam?"

"Much better, thank you, Mr Frodo. I'm alright as long as I stay away from boats but it don't seem like that's possible at the moment."

Aragorn passed him the candied ginger without comment and, with a rueful smile, the hobbit tucked a piece in his cheek.

Within half an hour they were on their way once more. Frodo began to have problems almost at once, however, dropping his paddle twice within a few yards. Fortunately Legolas and Gimli were travelling downstream of them and the elf snagged it easily as it floated by, holding position until Aragorn brought his boat alongside.

Frodo was quite embarrassed. The salve Aragorn had spread on his palms the evening before had certainly taken the pain out of his blisters but also seemed to numb his hands a little. He decided to accept his companion's jibes good-humouredly. Aragorn had meant kindly after all.

By mid day Frodo was beginning to wish that he could rub some of that salve inside his head for it was throbbing mercilessly and the paddling was making him uncomfortably hot. He paused, finally, and removed both cloak and jacket, taking up the paddle again quickly when Aragorn's voice came at his back.

"Are you feeling unwell, Frodo?"

"No. I was just getting overly hot. I'm afraid I'm more used to wielding a pen than a paddle." He tried a laugh, hoping that he sounded convincing. The Fellowship was there to help him, not carry him and he was determined to pull his own weight. He could not help being quite relieved when the Ranger called a rest break about an hour later, however.

Sam hopped out as soon as the boat touched land and Aragorn joined him at once, helping to pull the craft up the gently sloping shingle bank. Frodo rose more slowly, his legs stiff from sitting still for so long and any sudden movement making him screw up his face against the pounding in his head.

He clambered slowly to the front of the boat and stepped gingerly ashore, holding on to the prow for a moment, while he tried to steady himself on leaden feet.

"I think you had better sit down for a little while, Frodo." The little hobbit found Aragorn hunkering down at his side and he squinted at the ranger through eyes screwed up against the piercing sunlight. A large cool hand came to rest upon his brow and it would have been a comfort were it not for the fact that even that slight pressure exacerbated the drumming at his temples all but forcing him to pull away.

"This way, Frodo." Merry wrapped a welcome arm around his cousin's shoulders and Frodo leaned into his support as he was led slowly away to sit next to Sam upon a blanket.

The big folk gathered about the boats, ostensibly to unpack some food.

"What ails our Ringbearer?" Boromir wasted no time. The last thing they needed was a sickly Ringbearer and it was clear to him that these little folk were not intended for such hardships. It was not their fault but Elrond's decision to let a hobbit take the Ring was foolhardy. Not entirely unexpected, however. Hobbits were easily controlled by elf-friendly wizard and elf-raised would-be-king, without them actually realising that elves were in control.

"He looks very pale. Perhaps he too suffers from a dislike of boats," offered Legolas mildly. Gimli merely leaned upon his axe and frowned.

"He seems to have a fever but there is no congestion in his lungs. It may just be the change of climate," replied Aragorn. "It will probably pass in a few hours with rest and a little something for the headache."

"A headache?" Boromir's tone showed all too clearly his opinion of someone who would be laid so low by something as 'petty' as a headache. "Should we not send him back to the Golden Wood with his companions? It is not a long journey and we four can then move much more swiftly," suggested Boromir. "You cannot be considering letting him go on to Mordor when he is ill."

Aragorn's steel grey eyes met his steadily. "The decision is not mine to make. Frodo is the Ringbearer and it is he who makes the choice of whether or not to go on."

"Then I trust his next decision will be wiser than his more recent ones. As I remember it, we ended up losing one of the more valuable members of our Fellowship as a result of his last choice." The son of the Steward turned and stalked off into the woods before Aragorn could frame a suitable retort.

Gimli sighed and hefted his axe. "If you are to prepare medicines you will doubtless need a fire. I shall find you some dry wood." He too left the riverbank, striking off in a similar direction to Boromir with a knowing glance at Legolas.

Legolas' voice was pitched at a level only Aragorn could hear. "How long will it be, do you think? Before we all fall under its power."

The ranger shook his head and paused to pull his pack from the boat before crossing to where the four hobbits huddled together.