FIC: Untitled (PG, 3/?) for Mewsie, by Febobe
Author's Notes: I think this chapter is long enough to compensate for that incredibly short Ch. 1 back yesterday! :) I have no clue when I'll get another chapter posted; it'll have to be Sunday or next week, because I'm driving back tomorrow, and going offline Thurs-Sat, so I don't know when I'll have a chance to write much on it until Sunday (though maybe if I take my Neo, perhaps!).
Some spoilery author's notes beneath the cut, too. Just FYI. :)
Spoilery Author's Notes: I have chosen to paraphrase Bilbo's words about life in Rivendell as best I can, partly b/c I didn't want to directly quote JRRT and partly b/c I didn't have the darned book here in front of me. ;) Also, I'm bucking the tradition of Elrond's medicines tasting horrible, something which I myself have frequently employed and will no doubt employ again. (To be fair, I'll probably use the approach I've chosen here again too. I love it.) And you'll notice I have orange-juice in Rivendell in this story. I'm guessing they managed to make a greenhouse/hothouse that oranges and lemons and stuff will grow in. I'm quite fully aware that this might not have been possible, but I like to think it would be, so humour me, please. ;) Play along. ;)
CHAPTER THREE
Frodo gaped for astonishment. But yes, it *must* be Bilbo, for the little figure hurried to his side as best as he could, and put warm, familiar arms around him.
"Oh, my lad," he murmured, "oh, my poor, dear boy."
"Bilbo," Frodo whispered. "Bilbo, are you really here?"
"Of course, my lad," Bilbo said. "I have been here the whole time. Sam and I spent each day sitting by your bed. I don't go in for feasts very much these days, or I should have been there for yours. But I hear you weren't able to enjoy it very much!"
"Oh, Bilbo." Frodo folded into his arms, so grateful to be with his uncle again. Bilbo had been the nearest thing he had had to a father for so long. Somehow he did not feel he could have been much happier had Drogo shown up at the door.
Just then, the door opened again, and Elrond stepped inside, a large tray in his arms.
"Perhaps this will be more suitable," he said gently, setting it on Frodo's bed. "Little master," he added to Bilbo, "I trust that you will help me in this. Your nephew has hardly had a bite to eat since getting up this afternoon, and I do not think it agrees with him. If I take Aragorn so that we may make up some medicines, do you think that four hobbits could get the fifth to eat?"
"You may count on it," said Bilbo firmly. "I know how to get Frodo to eat, don't I, lad? Let us see now!" He lifted the cover of the tray, revealing several delicately arranged dishes: a light turkey and mushroom soup ... a dish of coddled eggs, surrounded by carefully buttered toast points ... a cup of plain turkey broth ... minced white turkey breast and roast beef, with mashed potatoes and a tiny pitcher of gravy beside it ... a dish of apple jelly ... and a little dish of applesauce. To drink, there was plenty of cool water, but also a little pot, and when Bilbo poured some of the contents into the hot tea-cup, it proved to be ... yes ... cambric tea! Much to Frodo's delight, Bilbo proceeded to sweeten it with exactly the amount of sugar Frodo preferred, stirring it up neatly.
"I'm quite sure Sam was going to help you," Bilbo said, "but it has been so long since I was with my Frodo-lad, surely neither of you would begrudge an old hobbit the chance to look after his nephew again."
Frodo pinked a little, but he was pleased. He had missed Bilbo so terribly. Sam did not look at all offended, but bowed politely.
"Whatever you want, Mr. Bilbo, sir. I'll just be right here close, in case you get tired. You just tell me, sir."
"It looks wonderful, Frodo," said Merry encouragingly. "If there's anything you'd rather have, though, just you tell us, and we'll find someone to help us get it for you."
"We know where the kitchens are," added Pippin.
"I should think by now you would!" said Frodo, grinning.
Bilbo spooned up a mouthful of the nourishing soup as Sam made sure Frodo was propped up well enough on his pillows.
"This should warm you a bit, my poor lad," he said. "Down the dragon's throat it goes!"
Frodo laughed, but obediently swallowed the mouthful of soup. It tasted wonderful, though he still felt so cold. He hoped Aragorn was right, and the feeling would abate, though he was not at all sure that he looked forward to the terrible overheated feeling which usually came with fever. He let Bilbo feed him a few spoonfuls of the turkey and mushroom soup, alternating that with tiny bites of turkey or roast beef, dipped in mashed potato and then in gravy, and after that some egg and a toast point, but one more bite, he shook his head.
"I want to have room for the apple jelly," he said, "and the potato's awfully nice. I'd rather have those than egg just now, please."
"Of course, my lad." Bilbo started to fork up a little more turkey and potato and dip it into the gravy, but whether from age or fatigue or nerves, his hand shook a little. Sam seemed to notice at once.
"Here now, sir," he said gently, stepping to Bilbo's side, "I'll just finish up, if that's all right. You just settle right there on Mr. Frodo's bed and rest and talk to him. I'll get him finished eating."
He gave Frodo a knowing smile, and Frodo could not help but smile back. Dear Sam.
"Thank you, Sam," said Bilbo, and scooted himself over so that he sat on the other side of Frodo, freeing Sam up to reach everything on the tray. "I am sorry. These days my hands aren't always as steady as they once were."
"It's all right, Bilbo. I don't mind." Frodo opened up for Sam and tried another mouthful of the hot food. Somehow it tasted better to eat it here, with it all arranged in such small tastes, tucked up safely in bed, not being looked at by all those ... those strangers, somehow. As much as he enjoyed elves, Frodo was quite aware that several of them had been watching him with great interest, and the feeling was not altogether comfortable for him. He did not care for being the curiousity of Rivendell.
"There now, sir. Not too much to go, and you'll be finished." Sam offered a sip of cambric tea before continuing, beginning to alternate spoonfuls of apple jelly with bites of turkey or beef dipped in potatoes and gravy. Frodo did his best to eat, but he was very much interested in Bilbo.
"What have you been doing all this time, then?" he asked. "Have you been here, in Elrond's house? And all this time I wondered where you had gone off to!"
"Well, yes," said Bilbo. "There didn't seem to be much point in being anywhere else, if you take my meaning. The food is quite good, and all the elvish company whenever you want it - well, there are worse places one could retire to, if you take my meaning." He patted Frodo's hand. "And now you're here. Rather the worse for wear, if I do say so myself! But Elrond will put you to rights soon enough. There isn't a finer healer in all of Middle-earth. And Estel, or the Dunadan, as some call him, is of more help than you might have guessed. His talents should not be estimated based solely on his skill against such a wound. He is a more gifted healer than you might have imagined."
"He is very good," said Frodo. "He did all that he could to help me on our way here. I suppose what it really wanted was an operation, and that could not have been done in the wilds by anyone, I'm sure. He could not help that."
"He tried hard," said Pippin. "I don't know when he even slept. Whenever one of us was on watch, he always seemed to be awake still, watching over Frodo, and then he took most watches himself, and somehow watched out *and* watched Frodo. Of course, poor Sam hardly slept either."
Sam blushed. "I don't reckon I could've slept much, with Mr. Frodo needing me like that," he said. "It wouldn't be right. Poor Mr. Frodo so ill and all. Least I could do was sit by him in case he needed extra cover, or something to drink, or whatever."
"Sam was wonderful," said Frodo. "You were *all* wonderful. I am very glad that you came along. All of you." He looked at the mouthful of apple jelly Sam was offering and sighed, suddenly spent. "Sam, forgive me. I don't think I can manage another bite."
"Are you sure, sir? You haven't had all that much, considering."
"I'm quite sure. Thank you." Frodo turned away. "I had better save some room for whatever medicines they bring back. Maybe we could save the last of the jelly to take the taste away. I don't suppose elvish medicine is likely to taste much better than hobbit medicine."
"I'm afraid it doesn't," said Bilbo, and chuckled. "Elrond does the best he can. If you ask, I am sure he can flavor it somehow. There are all sorts of good fruits here, in the greenhouse; I know they make elixirs and extracts to flavor all manner of delicious treats. You haven't tasted them yet; we were hoping you might tomorrow. Some you still could. I can't imagine they would keep orange-juice from you; it's quite good for fevers."
"Orange-juice?" asked Frodo, curious. "What is that? Is it orange, I suppose?"
"Oh, quite! It's lovely. Sweet, with a bit of tang to it, a sharpness, you might say. Just sour enough to please, and sweet enough to enjoy. I always drink pitchers full when I have a cold. I can't imagine it wouldn't be good for a fever too."
"Indeed." Elrond and Aragorn rejoined them, Aragorn smiling as he spoke. "I remember having buckets pressed upon me when I took an occasional cold as a boy. Ada is quite fond of it as a remedy."
"Ada." Frodo looked at Aragorn curiously. "But that means father, doesn't it? Rather like our word papa?"
"It does indeed." Elrond smiled. "Aragorn was brought up here. His father was killed when he was quite small, and so Gilraen, his mother, brought him to me, so he would be safe. Aragorn is my youngest son, and no less dear to my heart for not being a son of my body." He brought a small tray to the bedside. "We have prepared medicines for you, Frodo, and flavored them as best we can. You have Aragorn to thank for that. He recalls well the taste of my medicines - " Elrond cast a wry glance in Aragorn's direction, but Aragorn only grinned. "And he suggested that you might find them more palatable if we doctored them a bit. He even kindly allowed me to use him to test the results."
"I did try them both," said Aragorn, coming to stand near Merry and Pippin on the other side of the great bed, "and they are as tasty as they can be made. I fear that they still do not taste *good* - but they are much improved."
"I suppose there is nothing for it, then," said Frodo. "One at a time, and a bite of apple jelly and two sips of water between them, else I make no assurance that it won't come right back up!" He suddenly eyed Aragorn. "And I want Aragorn to give them to me."
Elrond arched one perfect eyebrow. "Is there a particular reason, Master Baggins?"
"If I have to throw up on anyone, I'd rather it not be you, in those robes." Frodo looked at Aragorn sternly. "At least *you* aren't wearing silk and velvet."
Aragorn laughed. "You are correct, Frodo. I am not. Your wish is granted. Only try to keep it down, else we shall have to resort to ... less pleasant ... methods of giving your medicines."
Frodo flushed. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, we would." Elrond smiled, the expression dangerously close to a smirk for Frodo's taste. "I have made more than one bolus in my time, and given them too, and I will not hesitate to do so again, if I must."
Frodo promptly opened his mouth. Laughing, Aragorn measured a dose from one bottle on the little tray into a miniature glass which appeared to be designed especially for giving medicines, for it had markings on the sides. He held the resulting opaque liquid to Frodo's lips.
"Drink, little one."
Frodo sipped, and found to his surprise that it tasted not only of medicine, but something else, something sweeter and more pleasant. He looked up in surprise.
"Grape juice!"
Aragorn grinned. "Yes, little one, we used an extract of grape juice to flavor it, and some sugar as well. Did it help?"
"Yes." Frodo motioned to Sam. "Please, I still want some water."
Sam offered the tumbler and Frodo drank, rinsing the taste of medicine from his mouth with a few sips.
"I don't dread the next one half so much now," he said, looking curiously at the mixture Aragorn was pouring into another little glass.
"I think you will like it at least as well," said Aragorn. "It was one of my favorite flavorings when I was young, though Ada never added enough sugar. I have forced him to remedy that for you."
"Thank you." Frodo sipped at the reddish liquid. "Cherries!" he said at last. "It tastes of cherries."
"Yes. Ada developed that one especially for me many years ago. I told him that he had better use it for you." Aragorn handed the tray back to Elrond, who began setting additional small glasses and the bottles of medicine on the bedside table. "I hope that made it at least a little easier."
"Much," said Frodo, motioning for the tumbler again.
"That's the best I've ever seen Frodo take medicine," said Bilbo. "I don't recall Master Elrond ever using the flavorings on mine."
"Only for people who have been stabbed," said Elrond, without cracking a smile, though Frodo noticed a merry twinkle in his eye. "And now, I think we had better let Frodo have some rest. Merry, Pippin, you two should come with me. I have a special assignment for the two of you, and Master Bilbo may help you in your planning. I will tell you more when we have left Frodo and Aragorn and Sam to talk." He motioned to the three hobbits named. "Come with me, all of you. I will answer any questions you may have, but too much excitement is not good for our friend."
"I shall be back," said Bilbo, lifting Frodo's hand and kissing it. "Rest for Aragorn, Frodo-lad, and do all that he says. We want you well, so you can explore the house, don't we?" And with that, he joined Merry and Pippin in following Elrond out.
"We'll come back when we can, cousin!" called Pippin. "Do try to eat for them!"
And with that, they were gone, leaving Frodo alone with Sam and Aragorn.
-to be continued-
Some spoilery author's notes beneath the cut, too. Just FYI. :)
Spoilery Author's Notes: I have chosen to paraphrase Bilbo's words about life in Rivendell as best I can, partly b/c I didn't want to directly quote JRRT and partly b/c I didn't have the darned book here in front of me. ;) Also, I'm bucking the tradition of Elrond's medicines tasting horrible, something which I myself have frequently employed and will no doubt employ again. (To be fair, I'll probably use the approach I've chosen here again too. I love it.) And you'll notice I have orange-juice in Rivendell in this story. I'm guessing they managed to make a greenhouse/hothouse that oranges and lemons and stuff will grow in. I'm quite fully aware that this might not have been possible, but I like to think it would be, so humour me, please. ;) Play along. ;)
CHAPTER THREE
Frodo gaped for astonishment. But yes, it *must* be Bilbo, for the little figure hurried to his side as best as he could, and put warm, familiar arms around him.
"Oh, my lad," he murmured, "oh, my poor, dear boy."
"Bilbo," Frodo whispered. "Bilbo, are you really here?"
"Of course, my lad," Bilbo said. "I have been here the whole time. Sam and I spent each day sitting by your bed. I don't go in for feasts very much these days, or I should have been there for yours. But I hear you weren't able to enjoy it very much!"
"Oh, Bilbo." Frodo folded into his arms, so grateful to be with his uncle again. Bilbo had been the nearest thing he had had to a father for so long. Somehow he did not feel he could have been much happier had Drogo shown up at the door.
Just then, the door opened again, and Elrond stepped inside, a large tray in his arms.
"Perhaps this will be more suitable," he said gently, setting it on Frodo's bed. "Little master," he added to Bilbo, "I trust that you will help me in this. Your nephew has hardly had a bite to eat since getting up this afternoon, and I do not think it agrees with him. If I take Aragorn so that we may make up some medicines, do you think that four hobbits could get the fifth to eat?"
"You may count on it," said Bilbo firmly. "I know how to get Frodo to eat, don't I, lad? Let us see now!" He lifted the cover of the tray, revealing several delicately arranged dishes: a light turkey and mushroom soup ... a dish of coddled eggs, surrounded by carefully buttered toast points ... a cup of plain turkey broth ... minced white turkey breast and roast beef, with mashed potatoes and a tiny pitcher of gravy beside it ... a dish of apple jelly ... and a little dish of applesauce. To drink, there was plenty of cool water, but also a little pot, and when Bilbo poured some of the contents into the hot tea-cup, it proved to be ... yes ... cambric tea! Much to Frodo's delight, Bilbo proceeded to sweeten it with exactly the amount of sugar Frodo preferred, stirring it up neatly.
"I'm quite sure Sam was going to help you," Bilbo said, "but it has been so long since I was with my Frodo-lad, surely neither of you would begrudge an old hobbit the chance to look after his nephew again."
Frodo pinked a little, but he was pleased. He had missed Bilbo so terribly. Sam did not look at all offended, but bowed politely.
"Whatever you want, Mr. Bilbo, sir. I'll just be right here close, in case you get tired. You just tell me, sir."
"It looks wonderful, Frodo," said Merry encouragingly. "If there's anything you'd rather have, though, just you tell us, and we'll find someone to help us get it for you."
"We know where the kitchens are," added Pippin.
"I should think by now you would!" said Frodo, grinning.
Bilbo spooned up a mouthful of the nourishing soup as Sam made sure Frodo was propped up well enough on his pillows.
"This should warm you a bit, my poor lad," he said. "Down the dragon's throat it goes!"
Frodo laughed, but obediently swallowed the mouthful of soup. It tasted wonderful, though he still felt so cold. He hoped Aragorn was right, and the feeling would abate, though he was not at all sure that he looked forward to the terrible overheated feeling which usually came with fever. He let Bilbo feed him a few spoonfuls of the turkey and mushroom soup, alternating that with tiny bites of turkey or roast beef, dipped in mashed potato and then in gravy, and after that some egg and a toast point, but one more bite, he shook his head.
"I want to have room for the apple jelly," he said, "and the potato's awfully nice. I'd rather have those than egg just now, please."
"Of course, my lad." Bilbo started to fork up a little more turkey and potato and dip it into the gravy, but whether from age or fatigue or nerves, his hand shook a little. Sam seemed to notice at once.
"Here now, sir," he said gently, stepping to Bilbo's side, "I'll just finish up, if that's all right. You just settle right there on Mr. Frodo's bed and rest and talk to him. I'll get him finished eating."
He gave Frodo a knowing smile, and Frodo could not help but smile back. Dear Sam.
"Thank you, Sam," said Bilbo, and scooted himself over so that he sat on the other side of Frodo, freeing Sam up to reach everything on the tray. "I am sorry. These days my hands aren't always as steady as they once were."
"It's all right, Bilbo. I don't mind." Frodo opened up for Sam and tried another mouthful of the hot food. Somehow it tasted better to eat it here, with it all arranged in such small tastes, tucked up safely in bed, not being looked at by all those ... those strangers, somehow. As much as he enjoyed elves, Frodo was quite aware that several of them had been watching him with great interest, and the feeling was not altogether comfortable for him. He did not care for being the curiousity of Rivendell.
"There now, sir. Not too much to go, and you'll be finished." Sam offered a sip of cambric tea before continuing, beginning to alternate spoonfuls of apple jelly with bites of turkey or beef dipped in potatoes and gravy. Frodo did his best to eat, but he was very much interested in Bilbo.
"What have you been doing all this time, then?" he asked. "Have you been here, in Elrond's house? And all this time I wondered where you had gone off to!"
"Well, yes," said Bilbo. "There didn't seem to be much point in being anywhere else, if you take my meaning. The food is quite good, and all the elvish company whenever you want it - well, there are worse places one could retire to, if you take my meaning." He patted Frodo's hand. "And now you're here. Rather the worse for wear, if I do say so myself! But Elrond will put you to rights soon enough. There isn't a finer healer in all of Middle-earth. And Estel, or the Dunadan, as some call him, is of more help than you might have guessed. His talents should not be estimated based solely on his skill against such a wound. He is a more gifted healer than you might have imagined."
"He is very good," said Frodo. "He did all that he could to help me on our way here. I suppose what it really wanted was an operation, and that could not have been done in the wilds by anyone, I'm sure. He could not help that."
"He tried hard," said Pippin. "I don't know when he even slept. Whenever one of us was on watch, he always seemed to be awake still, watching over Frodo, and then he took most watches himself, and somehow watched out *and* watched Frodo. Of course, poor Sam hardly slept either."
Sam blushed. "I don't reckon I could've slept much, with Mr. Frodo needing me like that," he said. "It wouldn't be right. Poor Mr. Frodo so ill and all. Least I could do was sit by him in case he needed extra cover, or something to drink, or whatever."
"Sam was wonderful," said Frodo. "You were *all* wonderful. I am very glad that you came along. All of you." He looked at the mouthful of apple jelly Sam was offering and sighed, suddenly spent. "Sam, forgive me. I don't think I can manage another bite."
"Are you sure, sir? You haven't had all that much, considering."
"I'm quite sure. Thank you." Frodo turned away. "I had better save some room for whatever medicines they bring back. Maybe we could save the last of the jelly to take the taste away. I don't suppose elvish medicine is likely to taste much better than hobbit medicine."
"I'm afraid it doesn't," said Bilbo, and chuckled. "Elrond does the best he can. If you ask, I am sure he can flavor it somehow. There are all sorts of good fruits here, in the greenhouse; I know they make elixirs and extracts to flavor all manner of delicious treats. You haven't tasted them yet; we were hoping you might tomorrow. Some you still could. I can't imagine they would keep orange-juice from you; it's quite good for fevers."
"Orange-juice?" asked Frodo, curious. "What is that? Is it orange, I suppose?"
"Oh, quite! It's lovely. Sweet, with a bit of tang to it, a sharpness, you might say. Just sour enough to please, and sweet enough to enjoy. I always drink pitchers full when I have a cold. I can't imagine it wouldn't be good for a fever too."
"Indeed." Elrond and Aragorn rejoined them, Aragorn smiling as he spoke. "I remember having buckets pressed upon me when I took an occasional cold as a boy. Ada is quite fond of it as a remedy."
"Ada." Frodo looked at Aragorn curiously. "But that means father, doesn't it? Rather like our word papa?"
"It does indeed." Elrond smiled. "Aragorn was brought up here. His father was killed when he was quite small, and so Gilraen, his mother, brought him to me, so he would be safe. Aragorn is my youngest son, and no less dear to my heart for not being a son of my body." He brought a small tray to the bedside. "We have prepared medicines for you, Frodo, and flavored them as best we can. You have Aragorn to thank for that. He recalls well the taste of my medicines - " Elrond cast a wry glance in Aragorn's direction, but Aragorn only grinned. "And he suggested that you might find them more palatable if we doctored them a bit. He even kindly allowed me to use him to test the results."
"I did try them both," said Aragorn, coming to stand near Merry and Pippin on the other side of the great bed, "and they are as tasty as they can be made. I fear that they still do not taste *good* - but they are much improved."
"I suppose there is nothing for it, then," said Frodo. "One at a time, and a bite of apple jelly and two sips of water between them, else I make no assurance that it won't come right back up!" He suddenly eyed Aragorn. "And I want Aragorn to give them to me."
Elrond arched one perfect eyebrow. "Is there a particular reason, Master Baggins?"
"If I have to throw up on anyone, I'd rather it not be you, in those robes." Frodo looked at Aragorn sternly. "At least *you* aren't wearing silk and velvet."
Aragorn laughed. "You are correct, Frodo. I am not. Your wish is granted. Only try to keep it down, else we shall have to resort to ... less pleasant ... methods of giving your medicines."
Frodo flushed. "You wouldn't."
"Oh, we would." Elrond smiled, the expression dangerously close to a smirk for Frodo's taste. "I have made more than one bolus in my time, and given them too, and I will not hesitate to do so again, if I must."
Frodo promptly opened his mouth. Laughing, Aragorn measured a dose from one bottle on the little tray into a miniature glass which appeared to be designed especially for giving medicines, for it had markings on the sides. He held the resulting opaque liquid to Frodo's lips.
"Drink, little one."
Frodo sipped, and found to his surprise that it tasted not only of medicine, but something else, something sweeter and more pleasant. He looked up in surprise.
"Grape juice!"
Aragorn grinned. "Yes, little one, we used an extract of grape juice to flavor it, and some sugar as well. Did it help?"
"Yes." Frodo motioned to Sam. "Please, I still want some water."
Sam offered the tumbler and Frodo drank, rinsing the taste of medicine from his mouth with a few sips.
"I don't dread the next one half so much now," he said, looking curiously at the mixture Aragorn was pouring into another little glass.
"I think you will like it at least as well," said Aragorn. "It was one of my favorite flavorings when I was young, though Ada never added enough sugar. I have forced him to remedy that for you."
"Thank you." Frodo sipped at the reddish liquid. "Cherries!" he said at last. "It tastes of cherries."
"Yes. Ada developed that one especially for me many years ago. I told him that he had better use it for you." Aragorn handed the tray back to Elrond, who began setting additional small glasses and the bottles of medicine on the bedside table. "I hope that made it at least a little easier."
"Much," said Frodo, motioning for the tumbler again.
"That's the best I've ever seen Frodo take medicine," said Bilbo. "I don't recall Master Elrond ever using the flavorings on mine."
"Only for people who have been stabbed," said Elrond, without cracking a smile, though Frodo noticed a merry twinkle in his eye. "And now, I think we had better let Frodo have some rest. Merry, Pippin, you two should come with me. I have a special assignment for the two of you, and Master Bilbo may help you in your planning. I will tell you more when we have left Frodo and Aragorn and Sam to talk." He motioned to the three hobbits named. "Come with me, all of you. I will answer any questions you may have, but too much excitement is not good for our friend."
"I shall be back," said Bilbo, lifting Frodo's hand and kissing it. "Rest for Aragorn, Frodo-lad, and do all that he says. We want you well, so you can explore the house, don't we?" And with that, he joined Merry and Pippin in following Elrond out.
"We'll come back when we can, cousin!" called Pippin. "Do try to eat for them!"
And with that, they were gone, leaving Frodo alone with Sam and Aragorn.
-to be continued-