S.R. 1391, April 27
When Bilbo awoke the next morning, he immediately dashed to Frodo's room to check on him. The boy's bed was empty. The kitchen showed signs of a hurried breakfast, and food, plates, and bowls were strewn about. Aragorn's tray was missing. Walking quietly back down the hallway, Bilbo heard hushed voices from the Man's room and he paused outside the door to listen.
"You cannot possibly be finished, Aragorn. How can anyone so big eat so little?"
"Frodo, I assure you that this is more food than I have seen in almost a week. Is this truly a normal breakfast for you? How can anyone so little eat so much?"
Bilbo smiled to himself as he heard Frodo's giggle.
"Would you kindly tell Bilbo that? He says I hardly eat anything. I know you can eat one more piece, Aragorn; don't make me call Gandalf in here." There was a pause. "That's better. You must tell us what you like so we can make it for you."
Bilbo looked into the room to see Frodo sitting next to Aragorn in the big bed. Both looked up at him so quickly that Bilbo nearly laughed; it was as if he had caught two truants at something they weren't supposed to be doing.
"Good morning, Aragorn," said Bilbo casually. "I was just wondering who left that fearful mess in the kitchen."
Aragorn grinned and made as if to hide Frodo behind him. "I cannot imagine, Bilbo! Surely no one in this room?"
Frodo swallowed a last bit of apple and hopped off the bed. "It must have been the trolls again, Bilbo," he said. "But I will clean up after them, don't you worry." With a backward smile at Aragorn, Frodo left the room.
"Bilbo," said Aragorn softly. "You must allow me to repay you for... everything." He motioned to the nearly-empty tray in front of him. "Your stores will need replenishing soon, I imagine!"
Bilbo sat down next to the bed, shaking his head in amusement. "That is most gracious, Aragorn, but you are our guest. And besides..." Bilbo looked at him steadily. "Gandalf and I had quite an adventure once, and because of it... well, I am not without means. You need not worry about anything while you are at Bag End."
"Bag End?"
Bilbo waved an arm about the room. "This is Bag End. Our home. Are the homes of Men not named?"
Aragorn smiled. "They are, indeed." Suddenly his smile faded and he shifted restlessly. "I cannot this abide this weakness, this lying about."
Bilbo looked at him shrewdly. "I suspect you have not often been ill."
"No."
"But as a healer, you must know the value of rest. I, too, had this very illness many years ago. It drained my strength as nothing else, and the body is slow to recover." Bilbo knew what a trial it must be for this warrior to lie abed. "One more day?"
The Man nodded. "Agreed. But---"
Bilbo rose to his feet. "You are recovering more quickly than most, but do not rush things." He stepped closer to the bed and lowered his voice. "Aragorn, there is little chance that Frodo will escape this illness, and it will be difficult for such an active lad to keep to his bed as he recovers." He gave the Man a slow smile. "You must set him a good example."
Aragorn nodded. "I will do so, my friend." He glanced at the table next to the bed and chuckled. "And Frodo has brought me so many of his books to read, I will certainly not be idle!"
While Frodo finished cleaning up the mess the 'trolls' had made in the kitchen, Bilbo began stirring together a delicious-looking cookie dough in a large, wooden bowl. When it was ready, he set the bowl on the table in front of Frodo, and went to the counter to get some large, flat pans.
Frodo sighed. "It's such a shame he's eating so little. How will he know how very wonderful your cooking is?"
"Let's bake these cookies into shapes he just can't resist, and perhaps he'll find out!"
Frodo laughed merrily. "You speak of him as if he was a child."
"Ah, but sick adults often need to be coaxed just like children, my boy."
Frodo thought about it. "Perhaps stars? His cloak has such a beautiful one. Aragorn said it was---" Suddenly he gasped and grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, a shocked look on his face.
"Frodo-lad, what is it?"
After a few seconds, Frodo looked up at Bilbo, confused and a bit frightened. "I don't know, Bilbo. I suddenly felt so strange. I... I'm fine now."
Bilbo sat down next to Frodo, a wild fear growing in his heart. "You mean you felt dizzy?"
"Not dizzy, exactly, more like... like the room had suddenly turned upside down. And then it stopped." Frodo took a deep breath. "How odd. It was... oh!" He flung his arms around Bilbo's neck and squeezed his eyes shut. "Bilbo, make it stop!"
Bilbo put his arms around Frodo and forced his voice to remain calm. "Wrap your legs around me, that's it." The old hobbit rose quickly to his feet and carried the trembling tweenager to his room. He sat down on the bed and lay Frodo down gently. "Just lie still for awhile, all right? We'll see if the room stays in one place."
Frodo was staring up at his uncle with wide, terrified eyes. "Don't leave."
"Of course not," murmured Bilbo. He lay down next to the boy. "Shh, now. Just lie still."
"Bilbo," whispered Frodo. "If... If I get sick, tell me what's going to happen."
Bilbo sighed, wondering how much to tell him. The memories of seventy-five years before came back as if it all had happened yesterday. He pulled the boy close, and kept his voice calm and quiet. "When I became ill," he began, "I was dizzy, and shivery, like you feel when you've being outside in the winter without a cloak. Then I felt very hot for awhile. I was sick for several days, very achy and sleepy. But then I got well again, like Aragorn has been getting well." Bilbo didn't want to scare the boy further by telling him that he had become delirious with fever. He had been terrified by images that could not have been real, but were so vivid that he still remembered them clearly.
"If you do get sick, Frodo, you'll need to stay in bed and let us take care of you. You must do everything we say."
Frodo gasped and squeezed his eyes shut again, burying his head in Bilbo's chest. Bilbo wrapped himself around Frodo as tightly as he could until the bout of vertigo passed and he felt the child relax.
"If you feel anything else strange or uncomfortable, you must tell me, or Gandalf," Bilbo said. "Promise?"
"I promise," said Frodo. "M. . Maybe I do feel... a little shivery, Bilbo. But just a little bit."
"Scoot under the blankets and I'll bring in that thick quilt of mine that you like so much." Frodo got under his blankets, and Bilbo covered him up to his chin and smiled at him. "I'll be right back."
Bilbo kept a smile on his face until he had gone three steps into
the hallway. Then he leaned weakly against the wall and found that
he was shaking with fear.
~*~
Aragorn didn't know he had fallen asleep until he awoke about an hour later to rustlings, whispers, Gandalf's hushed voice somewhere nearby.
"... him more comfortable... healthy youngster, Bilbo, no need to think... be up and about in no time... come now, compose yourself before we go in, so you don't frighten him further."
"No," Aragorn whispered. He sat up slowly, bracing himself against the dizziness he still felt. Rising shakily to his feet, he stooped low as he made his way down the hallway toward the voices.
"... but tonight you were going to tell me the Elvish greetings and..."
"And I still can, my dear lad. Here's, let's slip in one more hot water bottle and see if that helps."
"I'm s... sorry, Bilbo."
"We'll have no more of that, Frodo-lad; you haven't done anything wrong." Aragorn heard Bilbo's voice grow softer, gentle and loving. "There we go, all tucked in. You'll be warm in no time. Close your eyes and try to sleep a bit; we'll both be here to tend to you."
Aragorn stopped in the doorway, nearly undone by the sight of the tiny, shivering form in the bed.
"I will tend to him as well."
Gandalf turned around and frowned at him. "You should not be out of bed," he chided.
Aragorn walked unsteadily over to Frodo's small bed and knelt beside it. "This child is ill because of me, Gandalf. I will do everything I can for him."
"M'not a child," whispered a tiny voice.
Aragorn touched the lad's face; it was warm, but the fever had no doubt just begun to rise. As he knew too well, chills were just the beginning. Frodo slowly opened his eyes.
"Aragorn," Frodo murmured. "I'm so cold."
"I know," said Aragorn, smiling at him. "I, too, was so cold, Frodo, and I was all alone in the woods until Gandalf found me. But you are not alone. We are all here to care for you until you are well."
Frodo shuddered as a fit of chills shook him. "What... what were you doing in the woods?"
Aragorn gently stroked Frodo's face. "There'll be plenty of time for stories. So you're learning Elvish? I grew up among Elves, Frodo, and perhaps I can help a bit with your lessons. Would you like that?"
"Very much," Frodo whispered. "But you... you were out there... all alone?" He slid his tiny hand into the Man's big one. He wanted to say something else, but his head was swimming and it was too hard to concentrate.
Aragorn was greatly moved by Frodo's distress over the fact that he had been sick and alone in the woods. He leaned forward and pressed his lips lightly to Frodo's forehead, humbled by the compassionate heart that beat within this child. The lad's only thought was to comfort him --- a stranger who had thus far brought him nothing but misery.
"Rest now, little one."
Bilbo and Gandalf exchanged a look; that these two had strongly bonded, in such a short time, could not be denied. It was obvious that Frodo felt perfectly safe and comfortable in Aragorn's presence; and the Man's gentle manner and concern for Frodo dispelled any last, lingering doubts Bilbo had felt about having this heavily armed stranger in his home.
Overcome by the rising fever, the shivering boy closed his eyes and slipped into a light sleep.
Aragorn rose to his feet and nearly lost his balance.
"Help him back to bed, Gandalf," said Bilbo. "I'll get Frodo undressed and into some bedclothes." He sat down next to Frodo and pressed his hand to the boy's forehead. "He's in for a difficult time, I fear. In a while, I'll prepare some teas for muscle aches and such." He sighed. "My poor lad."
The wizard pulled Aragorn out of Frodo's room and led him back to his own, helping him down onto the bed.
The Man pressed a shaking hand to his head. "A room should not be permitted to spin about so relentlessly," he muttered. He took a deep breath. "Get a fire started in Frodo's room. Keep it going as long as he is chilled. Warmed drinks should help. And I need to know what teas and herbs Bilbo has on hand."
"I will see to it."
"Athelas might help to strengthen him, but I would not know where to begin to look for any in the Shire."
The wizard sighed. "It is unlikely that any athelas is to be found in this part of Eriador. I will consult with Bilbo's gardener; if there is athelas in this area, by any name, I suspect he would know of it. I will also inquire of the local healers; perhaps they keep a supply of it, although I would rather not reveal why it is needed. Any word of this illness would cause a panic."
"I cannot bear it, Gandalf. There is neither anger nor blame in that child's eyes, nor his uncle's --- only fear, and trust in us. How can any hearts be so open and accepting?"
"Now you know, Dúnadan," said Gandalf quietly. Aragorn looked up, startled to hear the wizard call him by that name.
"Now you know," the wizard repeated, looking at him intently. "That is the Shire, Aragorn --- that child. That trust, that innocence, that gentle, simple life; this is what I have asked you to guard and preserve."
Aragorn nodded slowly. "I understand." It was as if he could still feel the tiny, warm fingers entwined in his own, and he knew that something inside him had changed forever. "I did not know there were such folk as these left in the world." He looked at the wizard, his eyes blazing. "I swear to you, Gandalf, that the Dúnedain will not fail to protect the Shire from intrusion. This land will be kept safe, and the halflings will know only peace."
"Hobbits," Gandalf corrected gently.
Aragorn smiled at him. "Hobbits."
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