As Frodo slowly regained consciousness he was completely disoriented, and hurting all over. He couldn’t quite manage to open his eyes yet, but knew he was lying on his right side, on something soft... a bed? He felt a hand cupping the back of his aching head, and something cold was being held to his brow. His chest hurt with every breath, and his stomach felt slightly queasy. But the worst was what felt like someone pricking the back of his left arm with a needle. He tried to move his arm away, but there was a murmur of voices around him, then strong hands holding him still.
Halfred returned to Frodo’s room with an armload of firewood.
“Frodo’s waking, Halfred,” the healer said as Frodo began to whimper and struggle. “Could you hold his arm steady? I’m nearly finished suturing; the lad slept through the worst of it, at least.”
Halfred quickly dropped the small logs into the grate by the hearth, brushed the dirt off his hands, and sat on the bed. He quickly grasped Frodo’s upper arm above and below the gash Mistress Brownlock was sewing up, averting his eyes from the sight of the needle and bloody thread.
“You needn’t watch,” Gilly said softly. She looked up at Bilbo, who sat propped up against the headboard. A bowl filled with water and ice chips was on the table next to the bed. Bilbo held a cold, wrung-out cloth to Frodo’s bruised forehead with one hand and was gently holding the boy’s head still with the other. It was awkward, with Frodo lying on his side, but Gilly had needed to wash and suture the back of Frodo’s left arm without lying the boy on his bruised chest.
“What do you need, Gilly?” Bilbo asked anxiously. He dropped the cloth on the bed when Frodo began to stir and moan.
“No, put that back on his forehead,” Gilly insisted. “The bruise is already going down a little. Try to keep him still. We need to...” She thought quickly. “Sam, if you bring that pup to the bed, can you keep her from running around? Let Frodo see her. Talk to him, Sam. Keep him distracted while I finish up here.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Sam said. He quickly reached into Scamp’s basket and, drawing out one of the old, soft towels lining it, wrapped her in it before she could get away from him. He then got to his feet and deposited the tiny dog just under Frodo’s chin. Scamp poked her head out of the towel, relieved to be nearer to her master.
Frodo’s eyes fluttered open as Scamp’s tongue began to lick his face.
“What...” Frodo tried to get up, but there were too many hands holding him down. He winced as the painful pricking in his arm started up again. “Bilbo?”
“I’m here, Frodo lad,” came the beloved voice.
“Don’t move, Mr. Frodo,” Sam said firmly, kneeling next to the bed where Frodo could see him. “You’re a bit hurt, and we’re seein’ to you. You’re gonna be fine. Mistress Brownlock will have your arm fixed up in just a minute.”
“S... Sam?” Frodo’s blue eyes slowly focused on his friend. Sam’s hair and clothes were dusty, and it appeared that his friend had been crying. “You’re all dirty...”
“He’s lucky that dirty is all he is, Mr. Frodo.” Halfred Gamgee’s voice came from somewhere behind him. “Luck, and Mr. Estel.”
“Estel!” Frodo tried to piece things together through the pounding headache. “We were watching the sparklers, and I was looking around for Bilbo. Estel picked me up suddenly... Did something happen?”
“There was an accident,” Bilbo said. “An explosion. Estel saved a lot of lives today.”
“Where is he?” Frodo asked anxiously. “I want to see him.”
“He was a little hurt, like you,” Bilbo said, keeping his voice calm and reassuring. “He’s just down the hall, and Gilly will check on him as soon as...”
“Finished,” Gilly said, snipping the end of the thread. She wrapped Frodo’s arm in a clean cloth. “All right, Halfred, you can let go. Frodo, I’m going to help you onto your back. Bilbo, a pillow under his head, please. Don’t let that dog run about, Sam...”
“She won’t,” Sam assured him.
“There we go,” Gilly said, settling Frodo onto his back.
Frodo frowned up at the healer. “Hullo, Cousin Gilly. What did you do to my arm?” His eyes widened as he noticed the bloodied cloth on the table next to the bed.
“Just sewed up a bit of a cut,” Gilly said lightly. She looked into Frodo’s eyes, which were full of pain and confusion. The boy’s breathing was shallow and labored, and he was pale.
“How are you feeling, Frodo?”
“I... My head hurts, and my chest, and... dizzy...” Frodo felt as if a pony cart had run him over, leaving him aching and sore. His arm stung with pain.
Gilly moved a finger back and forth in front of Frodo’s face. “Can you follow my finger without moving your head, Frodo? Can you hear my voice clearly?” When the boy nodded, she gently touched her fingers to Frodo’s abdomen and belly below the ribs, watching carefully to see if the boy winced or flinched. Satisfied that he had probably escaped internal injuries, she smiled at Bilbo, then pulled a paper packet out of her satchel. She unfolded it, then spooned a small amount of the powder it contained into a glass of water.
“Did something hit me?” Frodo asked, still trying to sort out his memories of the day.
“Practically the entire ale shop,” Bilbo said lightly. He dipped the cloth into the icy water, wrung it out, and pressed it gently back on Frodo’s forehead. “You were thrown quite a distance, Frodo lad. You landed on some rocks.”
Frodo’s right hand strayed to his sore chest, which he suddenly realized was bare. He looked down with an effort, relieved that he still had his breeches on. Mistress Brownlock was a healer, and family; but still...
Gilly chuckled knowingly. “I have something for you to drink, Frodo, then I’ll let Bilbo and Halfred help you into a nightshirt while I check on your friend.” She finished mixing the medicine, and motioned for Halfred to lift Frodo’s head slightly so he could drink.
“That’s a good lad,” the healer said as Frodo dutifully drank down the potion. “It’s just a mild dilution of poppy, Bilbo,” she continued softly. “It’s safe for him to sleep a bit more, and he’ll rest and breathe more easily if the pain is eased.”
“Thank you, Gilly,” Bilbo said. He took a deep breath in weariness and relief. “I don’t know what we would have done without you.”
Gilly smiled, and patted Frodo gently on the cheek. “I’ll see to your brave Ranger. He’s quite the hero. How’s he doing, Halfred?”
“He woke up just for a minute,” Halfred told her. “Mr. Halbarad seemed a bit upset; I think Mr. Estel said somethin’ that confused him.”
“I need to examine him,” Gilly said. “And Sam, don’t leave; I want to check you over, too.” She took up her satchel and left the room.
“Sam, are you hurt?” Frodo asked suddenly. “How about all those children, were they...”
“No, Mr. Frodo,” Sam reassured him. He sat on the bed and took his friend’s hand. “All the kids were warned off by Mr. Estel. It was just...” He shuddered as he remembered Frodo and Aragorn lying so still, nearly covered in debris. “You were the only two hurt,” he whispered.
“I want to see Estel,” Frodo pleaded.
“You will,” Bilbo said soothingly. “We’ll let Gilly tend to him, and she’ll let us know how he’s doing. Halbarad’s with him, too.” He winked at Halfred. “Something smells wonderful.”
“That’s my ma’s vegetable soup, Mr. Bilbo. Beg your pardon, sir, but she and my sisters have taken over your kitchen.”
Frodo was distracted for a moment. “Sam, don’t forget that Scamp needs to eat more. She should go outside for a bit later, and... we have to...”
“I’ll take care of everythin’, Mr. Frodo,” Sam assured him. He patted Scamp, who seemed content to simply lie quietly where she could watch Frodo’s face.
“My goodness, Frodo lad,” Bilbo chuckled, “the mischief you and Estel get into every time he visits! Most unnatural for a hobbit, you know.” Bilbo kept talking, and watched with relief as Frodo slowly relaxed. The affectionate teasing that Frodo so loved was the best medicine Bilbo could think to offer. “There must be more Took blood in you than we thought. And what will young Samwise think, witnessing all these adventures and misdeeds?”
“You’re the adventurous one, Bilbo.”
“Nonsense. What an idea! Why if you ask me, it was all Gandalf’s fault in the first place. When he...”
The sedative Gilly had given Frodo began to dull the various pains, and his eyes fluttered closed as he grew very drowsy. Scamp pushed her wet nose under his hand, then he felt Sam get up. A light blanket settled over him.
“Don’t let Estel and Halbarad leave before I see them,” he murmured.
I doubt that Estel will be leaving tomorrow, Bilbo thought, and Halbarad may need some convincing...
Frodo sank into a deep sleep to the sound of Bilbo’s voice... and the soothing feel of his uncle’s hand stroking his hair.
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