CHAPTER VIII MISTY MARSHES “DON’T LEAVE ME”
He was not entirely sure how long it took to get to Bree. He didn’t really care though. He was for the most part, fading in and out…and he was having a pleasant dream…
***
It was a calm evening in Rivendell and he had been up and about for a while, Strider was not back yet and he was restless. He was wandering the hallway chewing on a cinnamon stick when he heard Arwen’s voice. She was talking to her brother Elladan.
“I realize his appeal, Arwen. Believe me, I do.” Elladan reached over to his sister and took her hand gently. “But you can’t seriously be considering giving up your immortality for him?”
“Not just him, Elladan.” Arwen said softly, “Them. Who better deserves it than Frodo Baggins? He has done so much already, and will bear the scars of that wound forever. “
Elladan nodded, “I understand, but think of father. Has he not lost enough already?”
“Elladan, I have been considering the consequences.” Arwen said with a soft smile. “He really is very unique, my brother. Both of them are. Besides, Frodo needs me. He needs Estel, and he needs me. He lost his parents when he was very young, you know…and he needs love. I have never met a person in my life before who needed love as much as he. I know I have to speak to father about it, but I’ve made up my mind. My heart is mine to give to whom I please, and I have chosen them.”
“How can you love two people?”
“They are not two people. If you look very closely, they are one person, Elladan. You cannot love one and not the other. I -have- made my choice.” Arwen said firmly.
“Allright…but please…please speak with Father.” With that, Elladan leant over and gave his sister a kiss and then he left her sitting on the window seat and taking a deep breath.
Frodo approached her then and smiled tentatively, “I heard what you said….” He admitted sheepishly, a little embarrassed to be caught eavesdropping and a bit red behind the ears.
She patted the cushion rest next to her and he sat down. The elven princess then wrapped her arm around the small hobbit and he snuggled against her gratefully. He didn’t really care that people glanced at them on the way by. He’d been feeling awfully out of place lately anyway.
“I don’t want you to go away…” Frodo said quietly, curling up bedside her, resting his head in her lap. “I’ve heard talk that the elves are going to leave Middle Earth…”
“I am not going anywhere, Frodo. As I told Elladan, I made my choice.”
Frodo smiled as she leant down to give him a kiss. “Do you promise?” he asked shyly, returning it. He was feeling a bit self-conscious to be kissing the Lord of Rivendell’s daughter out in the open in the middle of the day where anyone would see them. But…this wasn’t the Shire. This was Rivendell…and the kiss was making him heat up despite the chill he’d felt earlier that day.
“I promise.” she said finally, releasing his lips. “Were you looking for me?”
“I was…” he admitted breathlessly, lashes cast downwards. “But really…I was just feeling lonely…”
“I miss him too, Frodo. He’ll be back soon.”
“I hope so. Arwen…Also…” he bit his lip and blushed, “I’m feeling quite sore…” he ventured hopefully.
“Mmmmhmmm. I think you are asking for another massage, Master Baggins.” Arwen touched his nose fondly.
“If its not too much trouble…” Frodo murmured, still blushing.
“You’re never any trouble, Frodo.” Arwen chuckled softly as she rose, hobbit in her arms. Frodo made weak noises of protest.
“I’m not an invalid anymore…I can walk…” He protested with a giggle, but he leant his head between her breasts and felt far too comfortable to attempt to struggle out of this particular position, even when Pippin and Merry rounded the corner and their mouths opened. Merry nudged Pippin and his cousin giggled and the two devils gave Frodo a thumbs up and skittered away to cause trouble elsewhere. Frodo laughed and buried his face in Arwen’s soft hair avoiding the various looks they received from people who knew them.
Arwen carried him through the halls of Rivendell as though it was the most natural thing in the world and finally came to Frodo’s bedroom. It had been freshly cleaned and she laid the hobbit down on the huge soft bed. He always felt rather lost in that bed….but it was fluffly and comfortable…and he missed it…but there were muffled voices…and his surroundings began to become a bit hazy…
* * *
He murmured in his sleep as Aragorn laid him gently down on the bed in the room they had achieved at The Prancing Pony in Bree. Frodo stirred, gazing around himself in a bit of confusion, “Where…where am I?” he asked fretfully. Arwen was preparing a bath for him while the ranger was settling him down in bed and brushing his forehead and cheeks with a cool cloth, calming down his fever. His throat was dry and his voice hoarse.
“You’re safe, Frodo.” Aragorn said softly, his voice filled with reassurance. Frodo’s gaze held his for a moment before they traveled across the room.
“Arwen?” Frodo reached out to clasp Aragorn’s hand, “Strider…I’m thirsty…please…may I have something to drink?” He huddled in the blankets gazing about feverishly.
“Here Frodo…” Arwen brought him a warm mug of tea and settled up on the bed nearby. “We’re just preparing a nice hot bath. It will help calm your fever.”
“Why am I so cold?” he shivered…he was shaking so much he couldn’t hold the mug and she helped him drink as Aragorn held him steady.
“You’re sick, love. Shh…just try and relax. We’re here and we’ll take care of you.” She coaxed him gently. “Drink…”
He obeyed, looking from Aragorn to Arwen and then holding the Queen’ gaze. They were here…they really were. “A bath…alright…I...I’m tired though…” He yawned after taking a couple of mouthfuls of the tea. Shaking his head he pushed the mug away. “No--no more…Applejuice nextime…please?’
“Sure Frodo…whatever you want.” Arwen nodded gently. “Sleep, love. Its okay…we’re here now.”
“Don’t…” he reached up to grab Aragorn’s hand as the ranger was about to go and check the bathwater again and pulled himself up to cling to the ranger. “Please don’t leave me…don’t let me go…” he shivered and cried into the ranger’s tunic, tears flooding out suddenly. “Oh…Strider…I thought…th-th-thought you didn’t w-w-want me…anymore…” he whimpered miserably his small body wracked with sobs and shivering from the fever. Arwen made as if to rise as well…but he reached out and grabbed her hand. “But…you’re here now. Right? This isn’t a dream…I dreamt so much…” he closed his eyes and clung. “Don’t go away…don’t leave…” he whimpered until once again he lapsed into an unconscious state while Aragorn and Arwen attempted to sooth him.
“He thinks he’s dreaming.” Arwen sighed softly her hand reaching up to thread through the hobbit’s thick curls.
“I knew we should never have let him go back to the Shire.” he lifted up the hobbit blankets and all and moved towards the bathtub. “I’m not going to let him go…help me get undressed?”
* * *
TBC…