“Come now! A little further on there
is a place where we can rest for a little. There I
will do what I can for you.”
The Fellowship of the Ring, ‘Lothlorien’
“Let me have Bilbo’s handkerchief,” Aragorn said. Frodo, still confused, handed over the large cloth, and Aragorn let Scamp sniff it.
“Bilbo,” Frodo said to the pup. “Take us back to Bilbo.”
Scamp seemed to get the idea immediately, and dashed a little way off in the direction from which they had come, sniffing and yipping. She wagged her tail furiously, waiting for the group to join her.
“I have one of my own,” Frodo said, pulling out his own pocket handkerchief. “Do you need it for your friend?”
“I believe Bilbo’s will do,” Aragorn said, “but I can use yours for this...” He gently grasped Frodo’s right hand, which was bleeding more than the left, and bound it. “We need to leave immediately, Frodo. I want to get Halbarad to your guest house. The bone in his ankle needs to be set.”
“He looks sick,” Frodo whispered.
“The bone has broken through the skin,” Aragorn said quietly. “He is fevered, and needs to be tended quickly. Frodo...” Aragorn looked at the boy. “Halbarad reports feeling very strange after being scratched by a thorn, as you have been. You must tell me if you feel dizzy or ill.”
“I will,” Frodo said. “But really, Estel, these scratches are hardly anything. Don’t worry about me.” He took up a water bottle, and went to give Scamp a drink before they left.
Aragorn bound Halbarad’s ankle, the young ranger clutching his brother’s arm tightly at the pain.
“Let’s go,” Aragorn said to them. “Frodo, make sure there aren’t any scratches on Scamp.”
”She’s fine,” Frodo said with a grin. “I checked. She slid right under those brambles.”
~*~
It had not taken Merry long to lose his fright, and after awhile he grew impatient with waiting. Bilbo sighed, watching the restless youngster start to pace back and forth. Something he had learned about Merry was that the boy needed to be doing -- or thinking about -- something nearly all the time; he wasn’t truly happy unless he was planning, organizing, or taking part in some activity. He would make a fine Master, Bilbo realized; keeping Brandy Hall and its myriad occupants’ lives running smoothly took an organized mind, and a hobbit neither lazy nor careless.
“I have an idea, my lad,” Bilbo said at last. “There are small stones scattered all over this hollow. Why don’t you gather some, and we can fill in this hole.” He motioned to the gap next to the gate where Halbarad had squirmed through.
“That’s a great idea,” Merry said enthusiastically, picking up the nearest stone. “When we get home and I tell my father about this, he’ll see to it that this hole is mortared shut.”
The hobbits worked busily, and soon the opening was as tightly packed with rocks as they could make it.
“Here they come!” Merry cried suddenly, pointing to the Forest. Scamp came dashing out of the trees, followed by Frodo. Behind them, Aragorn and Thalguron walked slowly, supporting Halbarad between them.
“Bilbo!” Frodo called.
“Your first adventure without me,” the old hobbit grinned as Frodo ran to him.
“We need to get Halbarad to Crickhollow,” Frodo explained urgently. “His ankle is badly broken, and Estel says he has a fever.” He pointed to the filled-in hole. “Did you do that?”
“Merry did most of it,” Bilbo explained.
“You did great, Mer,” Frodo said, hugging the youngster.
“Frodo, are you hurt?” Merry suddenly caught sight of his cousin’s bandaged hand.
“Let me see,” Bilbo said.
“It’s nothing,” Frodo said airily. “I was scratched by a couple of thorns. Oh, Bilbo!” he cried, his eyes sparkling. “Wait until I show you what I found!” He patted his largest pocket. “Estel hasn’t even seen it yet.”
The Rangers reached them, and after everyone had re-entered the tunnel, Bilbo pulled the gate closed, and the lock clicked.
“Bilbo, Merry... this is Halbarad,” Thalguron said, introducing his brother.
Halbarad smiled down at the two hobbits. “I am pleased to meet you,” he said weakly.
“Bilbo Baggins, at your service... and this is Merry,” Bilbo responded.
“Hello, sir,” Merry said with a bow.
“We’ll get you fixed up in no time,” Bilbo said reassuringly to Halbarad.
The group slowly made their way back through the tunnel to where the Rangers’ horses were waiting.
“Help Halbarad onto Arthad,” Aragorn said to Thalguron. “I will join you in a moment.”
Now that the Hedge was once more behind them, Merry could stand it no longer. “Frodo,” he burst out, “what was it like? Were the trees scary and dark? Did they try to grab you? Did you see any goblins? Tell me everything!”
While the boys were talking, Aragorn quietly drew Bilbo aside.
“I want to take Frodo back with us, Bilbo. His hands need to be looked at immediately.”
“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Bilbo asked worriedly.
“I hope it is nothing,” Aragorn said slowly. “Halbarad was scratched by what may have been the same thorns Frodo encountered.”
“What is the danger?”
“Halbarad said...” Aragorn sighed. “Something in the thorns entered his blood, and affected his thinking. Frodo may grow dizzy, and act strangely. He may... feel compelled to return to the Old Forest. We must watch him closely.”
“But it will be temporary?” Bilbo asked anxiously.
“Yes,” Aragorn assured him. “Halbarad said the spell lasted for some hours, and ended shortly before we found him.” He looked uncertainly at the horses. “We can return for you and Merry after we--”
“No,” Bilbo said firmly. “Get your friend and Frodo to the house; Frodo can show you where everything is. You’ll come to a small stable before you reach the house, but you’re welcome to keep the horses closer, if you wish. There are plenty of trees about.” He smiled reassuringly. “Merry and I will be along shortly, Estel. It’s barely more than a mile.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Aragorn said, relieved.
“What was it like in there?” Bilbo asked, as curious as Merry.
“The tales are true,” Aragorn replied, glancing back at the trees. “Even as we retraced our steps, the paths had shifted slightly. I’m very glad Scamp was with us.”
“She does seem even more pleased with herself than usual,” Bilbo chuckled, watching the pup frisking around.
“The Old Forest is as mysterious as its legend,” Aragorn continued. “I advise that the hobbits continue to avoid it. Frodo was very brave.”
Bilbo beamed with pride. “I’m not a bit surprised,” he said smugly. “Now, no more delays, Estel; the house is just up that lane. And be sure to watch your head... Crickhollow’s ceilings are lower than those at Bag End.” His smile faded. “Did you tell Frodo that he may feel ill?”
“Only briefly,” Aragorn said, “I need more information; I will ask Halbarad for more details, as we ride.” He walked over to where Frodo and Merry were still talking.
“You’re coming with us, little one,” Aragorn said, lifting Frodo up onto Thalguron’s horse. “Bilbo and Merry will join us at the house.”
“But---”
“No buts. Your hands need to be cleansed thoroughly, and quickly.”
“What about Scamp?”
Aragorn smiled down at the pup, who was jumping up in an effort to reach Frodo. He picked her up and handed her to Frodo, then mounted behind Halbarad. Thalguron sat behind Frodo, and the Rangers urged their horses toward the lane leading to Crickhollow.
“Thalguron, ride ahead with Frodo,” Aragorn said. “We’ll need warmed water, clean cloths, and a place for Halbarad to lie down. And perhaps some food, and---”
“We’ll take care of everything,” Frodo declared.
Thalguron put an arm securely around Frodo’s waist and rode off. Aragorn followed more slowly, knowing that even Arthad’s smooth gait would send pain through Halbarad’s broken ankle.
“It is not far,” Aragorn assured his friend. “Halbarad,” he said quietly, “tell me exactly what befell you after you were scratched by the thorn, and how long it took. I need to know what Frodo can expect.”
“It was an hour, perhaps a bit longer, before I grew dizzy and injured myself,” Halbarad replied. “Soon afterwards, I began to feel very calm, and my ankle no longer troubled me. Some time passed... perhaps another hour, or perhaps more. I realized that I no longer wished to leave the Forest... I felt that I would be safe there.”
“Go on,” Aragorn urged.
“I am unsure how much time passed after that,” Halbarad continued. “It was nearing sunset when I was injured, and I believe I did not fall asleep until shortly before dawn. It was a sudden, deep sleep, and I awoke feeling ill and disoriented. After the sickness passed, I felt quite weak, but clear of head.”
“We have time, then,” Aragorn said, thinking fast. “Frodo may not feel anything for several hours.”
“His scratches are not deep,” Halbarad said, “and perhaps we worry for naught. He may have been scratched by a different type of thorn altogether.”
“I hope you are correct,” Aragorn said. “How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy,” Halbarad sighed, closing his eyes. “My ankle throbs, and I feel hot.”
“I believe you are fevered because the bone has pierced the skin,” Aragorn explained. “Once it has been tended to, you should begin to feel better.”
“It looks bad,” Halbarad murmured. “Will you need to put the bone back in place?”
“Yes,” Aragorn said. “It will be painful.”
Halbarad suddenly sat up straighter.
“I will not embarrass you, Captain.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will bear the pain without complaint. The halflings need to know that their protectors are not weak.”
“Halbarad,” Aragorn said softly, “you underestimate the hobbits. You need not be stoic or false around them.”
Halbarad suddenly bowed his head. “I am ashamed of my actions. One of the... hobbits... has already been harmed by my foolishness. To endanger those we are sworn to safeguard...”
“We all learn our lessons,” Aragorn said gently. “I am just relieved you were not lost to us, my friend. When was the last time you ate anything?”
“Yesterday.”
Aragorn smiled to himself. If he knew his hobbits, Halbarad would soon be distracted not by pain, but by more food than he could possibly eat.