One of the bunnies
May. 5th, 2004 01:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rabidsamfanI keep wondering why Elrond is so tolerant of Sam's invasion into the Council, and why Sam is an honored guest at the feast... so I've been mumbling an idea around for weeks, and since I can't seem to think well enough to come up with anything new (or work on the things I should be working on!) I thought I'd show you the start of it and see if it's going all right. Slightly AU...
[working title: The Master and the Servant]
The horse bore two riders, both hobbit-sized, and Elrond hurried down the stairs to meet them. “Hello the house!” one of them called. “We need help! Blankets and a fire!”
“All is in readiness within,” Elrond said, reaching Asfaloth. One of the hobbits was unconscious, held in the arms of the other and wrapped with two cloaks, until all that could be seen of him were his feet dangling. The other was young as mortals went, not even the age that Bilbo had been when first he’d come to Rivendell. “I am Elrond, Master of Rivendell, and we have been expecting you.”
“Samwise Gamgee, and this is Mr. Frodo, Frodo Baggins,” said the hobbit, hoarse with weariness and ducking his head in lieu of a bow. “Have you got a bath hot? He’s dreadful cold from that cut on his shoulder.”
“What cut is that?” Elrond asked, taking Frodo into his arms.
“He was stabbed by of one of them Riders,” Samwise said, scrambling down and landing on the grass with a hiss of pain. “Strider, he sent the hilt of the knife in the saddlebag, but the blade melted away into mist. That was days ago, and Mr. Frodo, he’s not healed right since.”
“Eru help us,” Elrond said grimly, changing the direction he had started. The hobbit was right – warmth was the best thing now, and the hot springs were simpler than heating a bath inside. “Follow and tell me all you know of this.”
“Well, sir,” Samwise said, taking Asfaloth’s reins and leading the horse as he trotted after Elrond, “It was by Weathertop, October 6th, or nearly the morning of the 7th when five Black Riders attacked our camp. And why they didn’t do more than just stab Frodo I’m not sure, but we’ve been trying to get here ever since. Strider, he put athelas on the wound, and it closed up, but Frodo’s hand has been cold ever since and the arm too weak to use, and he’s been that tired and dazed, especially these last few days. Strider said you could heal him.”
“I can try,” Elrond said, but his heart was cold. Fourteen days! It would be a miracle if he did not already hold a wraith in his arms. He was glad that Mithrandir had persuaded Bilbo to sleep. The old hobbit would take this hard, come morning.
“Ada?” Arwen had been sitting on the bridge, starwatching as she so often spent these nights. “How can I help?”
“Fetch Mithrandir, and tell him we will be at the hot springs,” Elrond said, grateful to his daughter for asking the right question. “The halfling was hit by a Morgul blade. I am afraid it will take more than the waters to warm him.”
“Yes, Ada,” she said, kicking off her slippers and gathering her skirt to make better speed.
Samwise looked after her for a moment and then turned to Elrond, drawing the small knife that served him as a sword. “You said that you were Elrond!” he cried angrily. “Give me my master!”
“I am Elrond,” Elrond said, wondering at this sudden fierceness.
“That’s not what she called you!” Samwise said, “I don’t know much Elvish, but I could tell that much.” He looked ready to do battle, and frightened at the prospect. “I don’t know why you’re taking us off into the dark neither, and you’re not taking Mr. Frodo one step farther until I do.”
Elrond went down on one knee, to show himself harmless and to meet the desperate brown eyes. “She called me ‘Father’,” He explained softly. “We go to a hot spring, across the bridge and 20 ells upstream. A bathing pool is built there, where we can warm your friend. Come.”
Samwise gulped and nodded, sheathing his sword as tears began to run down his dirty face. “All right then,” he said thickly, scrubbing them away with his sleeve. He gathered Asfaloth’s reins again. “You show me the way.”
Elrond sent a whisper of thought ahead to light the lanterns and the crystals embedded in the stone lining of the pool. He had put those crystals there at the behest of Celebrian long ago, when first they built Imladris together, and she had set the spell that made them glow, laughing at his bemusement. “We shall bathe in light, and it will drive away the Shadow,” had been her words, though seldom had he come to the springs to bathe since she had sailed for the West.
Now he reached the waters and walked down the steps into the heated pool, letting his long robes billow out and twist in the bubbles from the spring as he eased Frodo into the waters. The Halfling barely stirred as he began to strip away layers, and Elrond thought it boded ill. And there was the Ring to consider. “Samwise Gamgee,” he said, looking to see where the other Halfling had gotten to, and hoping Gandalf was right about the resistance of these small beings.
Samwise had clambered onto a bench, so that he could reach the saddlegirth and free the tired horse of its remaining burden. But when Elrond summoned him he tied the reins to the nearest bush and came to the water. “Yes, sir?”
“Help me with him,” Elrond said. “I do not wish to touch the Ring, nor to let it touch me, but I must see his wound.”
“It’s in his pocket, sir,” Sam said, stepping into the pool gingerly. He stopped at the third step, with the water already up to his chest. “Swing him up here by me, and I’ll wrap a handkerchief around it.”
“Try not to touch it yourself, Sam,” said Gandalf, arriving with arms full of blankets, and Arwen at his heels with a basket of Elrond’s medicines.
“Gandalf!” Sam’s face lit with relief. “We’ve been that worried about you! Where were you?”
“Imprisoned,” Gandalf answered briefly. “The Ring, Sam. We must deal with It so that we can help Frodo.”
“Right, Mr. Gandalf,” Sam said, losing years from his age in gladness as he tugged the chain that linked Frodo’s belt to the Ring in his pocket. To Elrond’s alarm, the chain broke as the Ring came free of the cloth, and the Ring began to sink into the waters. But Sam grabbed it in his handkerchief covered hand before it could be swept away by the current. “Got it.”
“No! You cannot have it!” Frodo protested in a high thin voice, fighting weakly against Elrond’s grasp. “By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair, you shall have neither the Ring nor me!”
“It’s all right Mr. Frodo,” Samwise said soothingly. “I ain’t no Black Rider, and I don’t want the Ring. Just let me fix the chain and you can have it back again.” But the chain was gone – swept into the deepest part of the pool.
“Use this,” said Arwen, taking from her neck the mithril chain which held the star shaped gem she had been given by her mother. The gem she kept, but the chain she passed to Sam, and he threaded it through the Ring, setting the chain around his master’s neck, and then wrapping the Ring again in the soggy handkerchief and knotting it.
Frodo relaxed, and Elrond and Gandalf exchanged glances. Frodo might resist the power of the ring, but already he was soothed by its presence and irritated by its absence, even in unconsciousness. It was not a good sign.
“Get those wet clothes off of him, so we can see how bad it is,” Gandalf said gently.
Samwise turned bright red and glanced at Arwen. She noticed and smiled. “I will tend to Asfaloth, and greet the others as they come,” she told the hobbit.
"Leave the saddlebag," Elrond told her. "The hilt of the blade that did this is within." She did as she was bid, handing the leathern pouch to Gandalf before she left with the horse. Elrond was glad to see her go. However old she was, she was his daughter still, and there were few ways left in which he might shield her from the Shadow.
Once she was gone, Sam began to help Elrond disrobe Frodo. Gandalf passed down soap, and between them they bathed the injured hobbit. The wound itself was small, only a white mark on Frodo’s shoulder. But it seemed to Elrond that he could see a line of shadow underneath the skin.
His hand and arm were cold, cool even in the heat of the pool, but Sam reported that the warmth was doing some good, and that the coolness had retreated a few inches on his back. Elrond bent all his healing powers on the wound, trying to seek out the heart of the cold as he sang the warmth back into the small being.
Samwise, unable to reach Frodo without interfering with Elrond, took Frodo’s shirt from the pile of soggy clothes and tried to scrub away the bloodstain, bending his head over the task to hide his tears.
Gandalf noticed and tapped him lightly on the head, offering the soap again. “Wash yourself first, Sam,” he advised. “You’re no cleaner than he was.”
“Ain’t none of us clean, Mr. Gandalf,” Sam said as he washed. “Except maybe that Elf Glorfindel who lent his horse. You’ll have to bring ‘em all here or fill extra tubs.”
“None of us?” Gandalf repeated sternly, “And just how did Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck come to be in the party?” Samwise blushed.
“Well, Mr. Merry and young Pippin they just decided on their own to come along with me and Mr. Frodo, sir. Having figured he was leaving and all. And I didn’t say no word to them after you made me promise not to, except to say that I couldn’t say no more. But Gildor Inglorion, he said Frodo should take them as was willing, and we’d ‘a had to tie Pippin in a sack to keep him home.”
Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had words with Gildor Inglorion?”
“Yes, sir. And Tom Bombadil and his pretty lady, we met them too. And that innkeeper in Bree what had your letter for Mr. Frodo. And Strider, o’course, but you knew about him.” Sam paused to cup water in his hands and pour it over his dirty curls. “But the last proper bath we had was in Crickhollow, before we left the Shire, and that’s a long time to go without.”
“Pass me your clothes, then, and bathe properly,” Gandalf advised. “Elrond will be in trance for some time yet. And I daresay I brought enough blankets to wrap two hobbits and not just one.”
“Well I’m warm enough in here, and that’s a fact,” Sam said, doing as he was told. It was a relief to be clean, even if the soap irritated the places where riding behind the saddle of a full sized horse had rubbed him raw. He took special care of his feet, reflecting that the soft paths of the Shire were a far different matter than the rocks and rough terrain of the Wild. Still, there was no damage done, except for a small cut on his left heel and assorted bruises on his shins from stumbling along in the dark. It could be worse.
He looked at Frodo floating in Elrond’s arms, and sighed. No good cataloging his own hurts when his master had yet to even open his eyes.
“When did he eat last?” Sam jumped. He’d almost forgotten Gandalf was there.
“Lunchtime,” he figured out, after a moment. “We stopped and finished the last of the dried apples just before noon. And he had a sip o’ that stuff Glorfindel give us the other morning, too, which no doubt helped. But we’ve had to ration our food out, not meaning to take so long coming from Bree. Mr. Frodo’s a good bit thinner than he was in Bag End – or Crickhollow for that matter.” He shivered, remembering Frodo’s joke about turning into a wraith and Strider’s quick answer. “Seems to me like the light shows right through him,” he thought.
“See if you can get some of this into him,” Gandalf said, pouring out a cup of red liquid. “Elrond, bring Frodo a little closer to Sam.”
Elrond turned like a sleepwalker, and brought Frodo closer. Sam carefully poured a little of Gandalf’s potion into his master at a time. “There now, Mr. Frodo,” he said as he went. “Gandalf’s here and he’s brought you a nice cup of medicine. It’ll make you feel much better, I’m sure.” He handed the cup back to Gandalf and took Frodo’s cold hand into his, chafing it as if that might help. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Elrond opened his eyes, looking down at the small gardener and then up at the Istari who crouched by the waterside. *How long has the Ringbearer known this one, Mithrandir?*
**Since Sam was a few months old, and Frodo a lad of thirteen.**
*Ah. That would explain why Frodo hears his voice through the cold and does not listen to mine. We must keep him talking, Gandalf.* He looked again at Samwise, with a healer’s eye. *If he can stay awake.*
**He’ll stay awake,** Gandalf’s eyes were grim, but he let nothing of his thoughts reach his voice as he poured a second cup of the elixir. “Here, Sam, you should drink something too. It will help.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Gandalf, I’m that tired. A drop of wine and I’d be of no use to Mr. Frodo,” Sam protested.
“This isn’t wine,” Gandalf said. “Drink.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said, taking the drink. It wasn’t wine – although there was something of elderberries in it, and it sent a warm flush of strength into his blood and bones. “That is better,” he said, passing back the cup. “Thank you.”
“Sam,” Gandalf said, “I need you to talk to Frodo. It doesn’t matter what you say, only that you keep talking.”
“And hold his hand, as you were,” said Elrond. “Remind him of your presence, that he may not become absent.”
“Why would he become absent?” Sam asked, taking Frodo’s hand as he was bid.
“Because he was struck with a Morgul blade, Sam,” Gandalf said. “And if we do not prevent it, he will become like the Nazgul, and under their command. So do not speak of cold, or death, or dying to him. Speak of warmth and life and good growing things and turn him toward the light.”
“Right.” Sam took a deep breath, and made himself not grip Frodo’s hand too tightly. “Right. Well. Now. Mr. Frodo. Did I ever… Did I ever tell you what my old Gaffer said when he found that there Dandy Bracegirdle was a-boasting on those potatoes he brought over from Tookland? Well, it was in the Green Dragon, not three months since…”
The sky above the mountains was making its slow way from night to dawn when Aragorn and Glorfindel came across the bridge and up the path, to find Elrond still in the water with Frodo, and Gandalf drying small hobbitclothes over a brazier. Sam was laying on a blanket at the edge of the water, with only one hand stretched out to meet Frodo’s. He’d gotten too hot, and had to climb out now and then to cool off, and he was hoarse again, but he’d found a steady mine to dig in tales of the Cotton brothers and their sister Rosie.
“Arwen said you were here,” Aragorn said, with eyes only for Frodo. “How is he?”
“Warm, for the moment,” Elrond said. “When the sun is up, we will take him to a proper bed and see how he fares. Glorfindel, will you take him for a moment?” Glorfindel waded into the pool, like Elrond, disregarding the effect of the waters on his robes.
“Strider?” Sam asked, twisting to look. “Where are the others?”
“They were asleep when we got here, so Arwen had them taken to the beds that had been prepared,” Aragorn said. “What about you, Sam? Haven’t you slept?”
“Not yet,” Sam said. “But I’m all right. Except I could use a bit more of that stuff to wet my throat, Mr. Gandalf. It’s dry work, talking.”
Rather to Aragorn’s surprise, Gandalf passed Sam a half-filled cup, and the hobbit downed it quickly and turned back to Frodo, talking as if his master could hear him. The scent of it was strong in the air, “The elixir of endurance is not kind to mortals, Mithrandir,” he told the wizard in Elvish, wondering at the risk Gandalf was taking with the small servant.
“He’s not a child, Estel,” Gandalf said, not impatiently. “And the Ringbearer needs his voice. He’s anchoring him, as neither I nor Elrond can,” he added, knowing that Elrond’s foster son was too exhausted by the long climb from the Ford to think things through. "He cannot fall farther into shadow while Sam reminds him of the reasons he would stay in the light."
Aragorn considered this, swaying a little as he closed his eyes to think. "Would he hear me, do you think? "
"He might, as you too are mortal." Elrond said, "But I would have you sleep the day and regain your strength for nightfall. It will be needed. "
"Yes, Ada," Aragorn said and made an unsteady bow. He caught Sam's look of puzzlement, but the thought of sleep was overwhelming and it was all he could manage to walk back down to the bridge, where Arwen was waiting for him.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
[working title: The Master and the Servant]
The horse bore two riders, both hobbit-sized, and Elrond hurried down the stairs to meet them. “Hello the house!” one of them called. “We need help! Blankets and a fire!”
“All is in readiness within,” Elrond said, reaching Asfaloth. One of the hobbits was unconscious, held in the arms of the other and wrapped with two cloaks, until all that could be seen of him were his feet dangling. The other was young as mortals went, not even the age that Bilbo had been when first he’d come to Rivendell. “I am Elrond, Master of Rivendell, and we have been expecting you.”
“Samwise Gamgee, and this is Mr. Frodo, Frodo Baggins,” said the hobbit, hoarse with weariness and ducking his head in lieu of a bow. “Have you got a bath hot? He’s dreadful cold from that cut on his shoulder.”
“What cut is that?” Elrond asked, taking Frodo into his arms.
“He was stabbed by of one of them Riders,” Samwise said, scrambling down and landing on the grass with a hiss of pain. “Strider, he sent the hilt of the knife in the saddlebag, but the blade melted away into mist. That was days ago, and Mr. Frodo, he’s not healed right since.”
“Eru help us,” Elrond said grimly, changing the direction he had started. The hobbit was right – warmth was the best thing now, and the hot springs were simpler than heating a bath inside. “Follow and tell me all you know of this.”
“Well, sir,” Samwise said, taking Asfaloth’s reins and leading the horse as he trotted after Elrond, “It was by Weathertop, October 6th, or nearly the morning of the 7th when five Black Riders attacked our camp. And why they didn’t do more than just stab Frodo I’m not sure, but we’ve been trying to get here ever since. Strider, he put athelas on the wound, and it closed up, but Frodo’s hand has been cold ever since and the arm too weak to use, and he’s been that tired and dazed, especially these last few days. Strider said you could heal him.”
“I can try,” Elrond said, but his heart was cold. Fourteen days! It would be a miracle if he did not already hold a wraith in his arms. He was glad that Mithrandir had persuaded Bilbo to sleep. The old hobbit would take this hard, come morning.
“Ada?” Arwen had been sitting on the bridge, starwatching as she so often spent these nights. “How can I help?”
“Fetch Mithrandir, and tell him we will be at the hot springs,” Elrond said, grateful to his daughter for asking the right question. “The halfling was hit by a Morgul blade. I am afraid it will take more than the waters to warm him.”
“Yes, Ada,” she said, kicking off her slippers and gathering her skirt to make better speed.
Samwise looked after her for a moment and then turned to Elrond, drawing the small knife that served him as a sword. “You said that you were Elrond!” he cried angrily. “Give me my master!”
“I am Elrond,” Elrond said, wondering at this sudden fierceness.
“That’s not what she called you!” Samwise said, “I don’t know much Elvish, but I could tell that much.” He looked ready to do battle, and frightened at the prospect. “I don’t know why you’re taking us off into the dark neither, and you’re not taking Mr. Frodo one step farther until I do.”
Elrond went down on one knee, to show himself harmless and to meet the desperate brown eyes. “She called me ‘Father’,” He explained softly. “We go to a hot spring, across the bridge and 20 ells upstream. A bathing pool is built there, where we can warm your friend. Come.”
Samwise gulped and nodded, sheathing his sword as tears began to run down his dirty face. “All right then,” he said thickly, scrubbing them away with his sleeve. He gathered Asfaloth’s reins again. “You show me the way.”
Elrond sent a whisper of thought ahead to light the lanterns and the crystals embedded in the stone lining of the pool. He had put those crystals there at the behest of Celebrian long ago, when first they built Imladris together, and she had set the spell that made them glow, laughing at his bemusement. “We shall bathe in light, and it will drive away the Shadow,” had been her words, though seldom had he come to the springs to bathe since she had sailed for the West.
Now he reached the waters and walked down the steps into the heated pool, letting his long robes billow out and twist in the bubbles from the spring as he eased Frodo into the waters. The Halfling barely stirred as he began to strip away layers, and Elrond thought it boded ill. And there was the Ring to consider. “Samwise Gamgee,” he said, looking to see where the other Halfling had gotten to, and hoping Gandalf was right about the resistance of these small beings.
Samwise had clambered onto a bench, so that he could reach the saddlegirth and free the tired horse of its remaining burden. But when Elrond summoned him he tied the reins to the nearest bush and came to the water. “Yes, sir?”
“Help me with him,” Elrond said. “I do not wish to touch the Ring, nor to let it touch me, but I must see his wound.”
“It’s in his pocket, sir,” Sam said, stepping into the pool gingerly. He stopped at the third step, with the water already up to his chest. “Swing him up here by me, and I’ll wrap a handkerchief around it.”
“Try not to touch it yourself, Sam,” said Gandalf, arriving with arms full of blankets, and Arwen at his heels with a basket of Elrond’s medicines.
“Gandalf!” Sam’s face lit with relief. “We’ve been that worried about you! Where were you?”
“Imprisoned,” Gandalf answered briefly. “The Ring, Sam. We must deal with It so that we can help Frodo.”
“Right, Mr. Gandalf,” Sam said, losing years from his age in gladness as he tugged the chain that linked Frodo’s belt to the Ring in his pocket. To Elrond’s alarm, the chain broke as the Ring came free of the cloth, and the Ring began to sink into the waters. But Sam grabbed it in his handkerchief covered hand before it could be swept away by the current. “Got it.”
“No! You cannot have it!” Frodo protested in a high thin voice, fighting weakly against Elrond’s grasp. “By Elbereth and Luthien the Fair, you shall have neither the Ring nor me!”
“It’s all right Mr. Frodo,” Samwise said soothingly. “I ain’t no Black Rider, and I don’t want the Ring. Just let me fix the chain and you can have it back again.” But the chain was gone – swept into the deepest part of the pool.
“Use this,” said Arwen, taking from her neck the mithril chain which held the star shaped gem she had been given by her mother. The gem she kept, but the chain she passed to Sam, and he threaded it through the Ring, setting the chain around his master’s neck, and then wrapping the Ring again in the soggy handkerchief and knotting it.
Frodo relaxed, and Elrond and Gandalf exchanged glances. Frodo might resist the power of the ring, but already he was soothed by its presence and irritated by its absence, even in unconsciousness. It was not a good sign.
“Get those wet clothes off of him, so we can see how bad it is,” Gandalf said gently.
Samwise turned bright red and glanced at Arwen. She noticed and smiled. “I will tend to Asfaloth, and greet the others as they come,” she told the hobbit.
"Leave the saddlebag," Elrond told her. "The hilt of the blade that did this is within." She did as she was bid, handing the leathern pouch to Gandalf before she left with the horse. Elrond was glad to see her go. However old she was, she was his daughter still, and there were few ways left in which he might shield her from the Shadow.
Once she was gone, Sam began to help Elrond disrobe Frodo. Gandalf passed down soap, and between them they bathed the injured hobbit. The wound itself was small, only a white mark on Frodo’s shoulder. But it seemed to Elrond that he could see a line of shadow underneath the skin.
His hand and arm were cold, cool even in the heat of the pool, but Sam reported that the warmth was doing some good, and that the coolness had retreated a few inches on his back. Elrond bent all his healing powers on the wound, trying to seek out the heart of the cold as he sang the warmth back into the small being.
Samwise, unable to reach Frodo without interfering with Elrond, took Frodo’s shirt from the pile of soggy clothes and tried to scrub away the bloodstain, bending his head over the task to hide his tears.
Gandalf noticed and tapped him lightly on the head, offering the soap again. “Wash yourself first, Sam,” he advised. “You’re no cleaner than he was.”
“Ain’t none of us clean, Mr. Gandalf,” Sam said as he washed. “Except maybe that Elf Glorfindel who lent his horse. You’ll have to bring ‘em all here or fill extra tubs.”
“None of us?” Gandalf repeated sternly, “And just how did Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck come to be in the party?” Samwise blushed.
“Well, Mr. Merry and young Pippin they just decided on their own to come along with me and Mr. Frodo, sir. Having figured he was leaving and all. And I didn’t say no word to them after you made me promise not to, except to say that I couldn’t say no more. But Gildor Inglorion, he said Frodo should take them as was willing, and we’d ‘a had to tie Pippin in a sack to keep him home.”
Gandalf raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had words with Gildor Inglorion?”
“Yes, sir. And Tom Bombadil and his pretty lady, we met them too. And that innkeeper in Bree what had your letter for Mr. Frodo. And Strider, o’course, but you knew about him.” Sam paused to cup water in his hands and pour it over his dirty curls. “But the last proper bath we had was in Crickhollow, before we left the Shire, and that’s a long time to go without.”
“Pass me your clothes, then, and bathe properly,” Gandalf advised. “Elrond will be in trance for some time yet. And I daresay I brought enough blankets to wrap two hobbits and not just one.”
“Well I’m warm enough in here, and that’s a fact,” Sam said, doing as he was told. It was a relief to be clean, even if the soap irritated the places where riding behind the saddle of a full sized horse had rubbed him raw. He took special care of his feet, reflecting that the soft paths of the Shire were a far different matter than the rocks and rough terrain of the Wild. Still, there was no damage done, except for a small cut on his left heel and assorted bruises on his shins from stumbling along in the dark. It could be worse.
He looked at Frodo floating in Elrond’s arms, and sighed. No good cataloging his own hurts when his master had yet to even open his eyes.
“When did he eat last?” Sam jumped. He’d almost forgotten Gandalf was there.
“Lunchtime,” he figured out, after a moment. “We stopped and finished the last of the dried apples just before noon. And he had a sip o’ that stuff Glorfindel give us the other morning, too, which no doubt helped. But we’ve had to ration our food out, not meaning to take so long coming from Bree. Mr. Frodo’s a good bit thinner than he was in Bag End – or Crickhollow for that matter.” He shivered, remembering Frodo’s joke about turning into a wraith and Strider’s quick answer. “Seems to me like the light shows right through him,” he thought.
“See if you can get some of this into him,” Gandalf said, pouring out a cup of red liquid. “Elrond, bring Frodo a little closer to Sam.”
Elrond turned like a sleepwalker, and brought Frodo closer. Sam carefully poured a little of Gandalf’s potion into his master at a time. “There now, Mr. Frodo,” he said as he went. “Gandalf’s here and he’s brought you a nice cup of medicine. It’ll make you feel much better, I’m sure.” He handed the cup back to Gandalf and took Frodo’s cold hand into his, chafing it as if that might help. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Elrond opened his eyes, looking down at the small gardener and then up at the Istari who crouched by the waterside. *How long has the Ringbearer known this one, Mithrandir?*
**Since Sam was a few months old, and Frodo a lad of thirteen.**
*Ah. That would explain why Frodo hears his voice through the cold and does not listen to mine. We must keep him talking, Gandalf.* He looked again at Samwise, with a healer’s eye. *If he can stay awake.*
**He’ll stay awake,** Gandalf’s eyes were grim, but he let nothing of his thoughts reach his voice as he poured a second cup of the elixir. “Here, Sam, you should drink something too. It will help.”
“Oh, no, Mr. Gandalf, I’m that tired. A drop of wine and I’d be of no use to Mr. Frodo,” Sam protested.
“This isn’t wine,” Gandalf said. “Drink.”
“Yes, sir,” Sam said, taking the drink. It wasn’t wine – although there was something of elderberries in it, and it sent a warm flush of strength into his blood and bones. “That is better,” he said, passing back the cup. “Thank you.”
“Sam,” Gandalf said, “I need you to talk to Frodo. It doesn’t matter what you say, only that you keep talking.”
“And hold his hand, as you were,” said Elrond. “Remind him of your presence, that he may not become absent.”
“Why would he become absent?” Sam asked, taking Frodo’s hand as he was bid.
“Because he was struck with a Morgul blade, Sam,” Gandalf said. “And if we do not prevent it, he will become like the Nazgul, and under their command. So do not speak of cold, or death, or dying to him. Speak of warmth and life and good growing things and turn him toward the light.”
“Right.” Sam took a deep breath, and made himself not grip Frodo’s hand too tightly. “Right. Well. Now. Mr. Frodo. Did I ever… Did I ever tell you what my old Gaffer said when he found that there Dandy Bracegirdle was a-boasting on those potatoes he brought over from Tookland? Well, it was in the Green Dragon, not three months since…”
The sky above the mountains was making its slow way from night to dawn when Aragorn and Glorfindel came across the bridge and up the path, to find Elrond still in the water with Frodo, and Gandalf drying small hobbitclothes over a brazier. Sam was laying on a blanket at the edge of the water, with only one hand stretched out to meet Frodo’s. He’d gotten too hot, and had to climb out now and then to cool off, and he was hoarse again, but he’d found a steady mine to dig in tales of the Cotton brothers and their sister Rosie.
“Arwen said you were here,” Aragorn said, with eyes only for Frodo. “How is he?”
“Warm, for the moment,” Elrond said. “When the sun is up, we will take him to a proper bed and see how he fares. Glorfindel, will you take him for a moment?” Glorfindel waded into the pool, like Elrond, disregarding the effect of the waters on his robes.
“Strider?” Sam asked, twisting to look. “Where are the others?”
“They were asleep when we got here, so Arwen had them taken to the beds that had been prepared,” Aragorn said. “What about you, Sam? Haven’t you slept?”
“Not yet,” Sam said. “But I’m all right. Except I could use a bit more of that stuff to wet my throat, Mr. Gandalf. It’s dry work, talking.”
Rather to Aragorn’s surprise, Gandalf passed Sam a half-filled cup, and the hobbit downed it quickly and turned back to Frodo, talking as if his master could hear him. The scent of it was strong in the air, “The elixir of endurance is not kind to mortals, Mithrandir,” he told the wizard in Elvish, wondering at the risk Gandalf was taking with the small servant.
“He’s not a child, Estel,” Gandalf said, not impatiently. “And the Ringbearer needs his voice. He’s anchoring him, as neither I nor Elrond can,” he added, knowing that Elrond’s foster son was too exhausted by the long climb from the Ford to think things through. "He cannot fall farther into shadow while Sam reminds him of the reasons he would stay in the light."
Aragorn considered this, swaying a little as he closed his eyes to think. "Would he hear me, do you think? "
"He might, as you too are mortal." Elrond said, "But I would have you sleep the day and regain your strength for nightfall. It will be needed. "
"Yes, Ada," Aragorn said and made an unsteady bow. He caught Sam's look of puzzlement, but the thought of sleep was overwhelming and it was all he could manage to walk back down to the bridge, where Arwen was waiting for him.
Timeline (fiction only, most recent version, includes AU) first previous next last
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(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-04 10:34 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-04 11:45 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 03:45 am (UTC)thingsstories come ! :-)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-04 10:39 pm (UTC)(One short remark: It's Gildor Inglorion, not Inglorian.)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-04 11:49 pm (UTC)Yes, I did mean for the exchange to be in thought, although I suspect they use Elvish over Sam's head quite often. In this instance though, Elrond has very little idea of just how much Sam might understand.
I loved Out of All Knowledge: it's one of the reasons this story has sat on a back burner. That one scratched so much of the itch! But I went back through my draft and found enough "original" notions that I thought it wouldn't hurt to have another Rivendell story out there.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 12:15 am (UTC)I loved it too; Budgielover has a tendency for cliffhangers that nearly killed me at the end of each posted chapter. But your style is completely different, and I'm sure, the story will be different, too.I can't wait to see more...
...though I must admit, a persnickety part of my translating self still murmurs something about a certain "Ringbearer" and a certain "Rose" under his breath - ssshh!
*blushes*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:40 am (UTC)Dear, I didn't forget the move, and I don't forget the asthma. Please don't feel under pressure!
Again... I wished I could carry some book boxes for you.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:51 am (UTC)And wouldn't it be fun to have you here carrying books. Although I'm afraid you, like I, would be terribly tempted to stop, drop and read! (and that would be fun too.)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:06 am (UTC)Exactly. That's the way I drive my husband mad.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 02:58 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:30 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 03:47 am (UTC)(How did Gandalf know that "all of them" meant Pippin and Merry?)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:34 am (UTC)And Gandalf had stopped in Bree and talked to Barliman before he came to Rivendell, which is how he knew about the other two. You'll remember when you have a chance to wake up! (Three thirty a.m. is too early to think...)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:41 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 04:57 am (UTC)I can't tell you how much I love this part. It's so...Sam!
And this one...
Frodo relaxed, and Elrond and Gandalf exchanged glances. Frodo might resist the power of the ring, but already he was soothed by its presence and irritated by its absence, even in unconsciousness. It was not a good sign.
Ouch!
When are you going to post the next part? Sam isn't going to be ill, is he? And will we meet the other hobbits too? Including Bilbo?
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:21 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:42 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-06 12:59 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:01 am (UTC)*ready for more, when you are settled enough to proceed*
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:18 am (UTC)I have more written, which I shall probably post tonight when I can't stand working anymore. It may not be connected together straight away, but at least it already exists, so I can share it without guilt.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 05:22 am (UTC)Thank you for the drabble, too- I'll print it off and put your name at the top.
Good luck with the move and don't overdo it! You cannot damage those precious writing fingers.
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-06 01:00 pm (UTC)Story
Date: 2004-05-05 04:38 pm (UTC)*worries*
Will Sam be alright? KEEP WRITING!!
Re: Story
Date: 2004-05-05 05:57 pm (UTC)And I think your icon is absolutely hilarious. "schnooky wookums"!
*snorgle!*
Re: Story
Date: 2004-05-05 07:09 pm (UTC):)
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-11 07:41 pm (UTC)“And the Ringbearer needs his voice. He’s anchoring him, as neither I nor Elrond can,” he added, knowing that Elrond’s foster son was too exhausted by the long climb from the Ford to think things through. "He cannot fall farther into shadow while Sam reminds him of the reasons he would stay in the light."
very important to note and i'm glad that you enhanced the role of Sam in this truly angsty time... truly injured people need a familiar voice to be there in order to be on the road to recovery...
::off to read the subsequent posts:: =)
good job, rabidsamfan~! =)