THE HEART OF A HEALER
By Tangelian Proudfoot



***

Authors Note:

I dont own any of the characters or places, they are all property of the Tolkien Estate, except for Tari, her horse Trifas and some minor characters over at the Prancing Pony, who were not mentioned in The Lord of the Rings. I dont make any money or profit whatsoever from my writing, I write simply because of my love of storytelling and the Lord of the Rings.


*Lots* of thanks and hugs to all of my proof readers!



***



5. Confessions and Complications

Frodo awoke slowly, and for a moment, he almost thought he was lying in a bed. He was so tired... and yet it felt like he had been sleeping longer and deeper than he had in a very long time. As the memories from the night before came back to him he groaned, turning onto the other side. He had tried to avoid that half elf... but still. He wished that he would have been able to hate her, but instead... her presence was always soothing, and somehow... there was something about her that filled him with the strangest desire... to let himself be held in her arms and get comforted in a way he hadn't been since he was a small child...

No! Where did those thoughts come from?! He was not supposed to think that way. He did not deserve her pity. He did not deserve anyone's pity. So why couldn't she simply understand that and just leave him alone?

Sighing, he slowly sat up, finding that his body felt like lead, and that he was a little light-headed. Tari was no longer there, and though his sleeping spot was somewhat hidden from view, he was rather certain of that none of the others were awake yet. It was still very early, and the sun was barely over the horizon.

All of a sudden a sharp spear of pain shot through his stomach, leaving a throbbing ache behind. He shifted a little, hoping it would pass, but it was soon followed by another, and this time the pain was so intense that he had to suppress a gasp. Slowly he laid himself down again, curling up, carefully rubbing his stomach, but the pain only seemed to spread on to his back. He sighed, closing his eyes, clenching his fists. Ever since the anniversary of his wounding at Weathertop he had not regained his appetite, and during the last days he had only been able to eat very little of the food that was offered. It appeared that he now was about to face the consequences....

He tried to relax and fall asleep again, but even though he was so tired that he could barely keep his eyes open, the pain just appeared to intensify, making it impossible to get comfortable. Suddenly he felt his intestines twisting, and he knew that he'd better pay a visit to the depths of the forest... preferably before the others woke up. Taking a deep breath he cautiously rose, trying to gain control of his trembling legs. Thankfully the others were still asleep---even Tari, it appeared.

After finishing his errand he found that the pain had still not eased, and he felt cold and weak. Maybe this was more than just a reaction to his poor eating after all. However, he knew he had to brace himself and join the others for breakfast... though the thought of food was very unappealing at the moment. But if Tari suspected that he was unwell, she would most likely confront him about it, and he didn't think he would be able to handle such a direct confrontation right now... which meant that the others would find out as well...

By nightfall they would make it to Bree. If he was able to hide the pain and avoid Tari for a few more hours, she would never get the opportunity to talk to him alone, and most likely, she was going to leave very early the next morning, so they would never ever meet again. Never, ever again... but then, why did the thought fill him with nothing but sadness, when he was supposed to feel relieved?

***

When Frodo returned to the glade the others were already awake and breakfast was being prepared. Tari had cursed herself for falling asleep when she awoke again, a few minutes before the others, and found that Frodo was gone. She drew a sigh of relief when his silhouette suddenly became visible against the trees. Within a few moments though, her concern was awoken anew. His face was so pale that it appeared to be almost ashen, and his steps were heavy, as if he had to command his body to move. It was obvious that he was trying to hide any signs of weakness.

But as Frodo finally sat down beside the other hobbits with a polite, brief "Good morning," Tari was surprised to notice that he appeared to be ignoring her, even avoiding looking at her. She couldn't help but feel a sting of disappointment. Why was he still acting as if he didn't trust her?

As the breakfast proceeded Tari became more and more certain that there was something wrong with Frodo. He seemed to be having difficulties finding a comfortable way to sit, frequently changing position and rearranging the blanket he had wrapped around himself. He nibbled from the food on the plate in front of him, but every bite seemed to be followed by multiple, cautious sips of tea, and he had already refilled his cup twice. However, his face revealed nothing, and he remained silent. Was he in pain? Tari tried to meet his eyes for a brief moment in an attempt to find out, but he appeared to be predicting her intentions, and to her frustration, there was no way she could make him look at her, not even for a split second. Suddenly he pushed his plate aside, and when he lifted his teacup again, she noticed that his hand was trembling a little.

As soon as the meal was finished the company prepared for departure; putting out the fire and arranging the packs. Frodo still treated Tari as if she was made of air, and she grew more and more concerned about his behaviour and could no longer hold back a sense of annoyance. Why was he acting this way? He turned his back on her as they put the saddles on the horses and appeared to be very caught up in his task, though his movements were still slow and he was fumbling with the leather straps, breathing rather heavily. Merry and Pippin were the first to finish, and as they left for the camp site to fetch their packs, Tari saw her chance. "Frodo?" she asked in a careful tone. "Is something the matter?"

Frodo spun around quickly and looked at her, but avoided meeting her eyes. "Oh," he said firmly, shaking his head. "No... no. I'm quite fine, thank you. But if you'll excuse me for a moment..."

With that, he fastened the last strap of the saddle girth, patted his pony lightly on the neck and headed off toward the forest again with swift feet. He had obviously decided to act as if he didn't remember anything at all from last night.Tari watched him in silence for a few moments, feeling her fists clench and a knot of worry forming in her chest. "I'll be right back, my boy," she said to Trifas and followed Frodo with light steps.

She caught up with him just as the trees hid the camp from view. She had almost forgotten how quick the hobbits could move, and Frodo was no exception, despite the fact that he obviously wasn't feeling too well. "Frodo!" she called out, sounding more determined now. "Frodo, we need to talk."

Frodo winced and turned around, and for a moment Tari was nearly startled at the anger in his eyes. Yet she could see that there was something else behind it... he reminded her of a small animal trapped in a corner....

"Now, look here, my lady" he hissed. "I don't know about your people, but *my* people consider it quite impolite to follow someone who obviously seeks some privacy, just because you happen to feel like talking!"

"Well," Tari heard herself nearly yelling back at him, "so *you* are the one to accuse *me* of being impolite? Do your people really consider treating someone who only wants to help you as if she didn't even exist---and then pretend that you had no idea you were acting that way---as an acceptable behaviour?!

Frodo lowered his eyes, and for a moment Tari wondered if she had been too hard on him. "Yes..." he said after a moment of silence, nodding slowly, remorse in his voice. "You're quite right and I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I've treated you this way... after what you've done to me... there are no excuses."

"Dont worry, Frodo," Tari said in a softer, but yet persistent voice. "And I am sorry too. I know it was impolite to follow you, but I think we'd better have a little talk, you and I."

"All right..." Frodo agreed, still a bit skeptical it appeared. "But if you'll excuse me... I have to- I have to take care of something first... I'll come back..."

"Of course," Tari said. "Take your time, I'll be right here."

She slowly sat down on a large rock, watching him disappear behind the trees with quick feet.

***

Frodo fastened his breeches and straightened his shirt and cloak, sighing. The pain was just growing more and more intense. He knew what he was in for... a whole day of monotone rocking back and forth on horseback... and most likely he would need to stop several times along the way. The others would find out, if they didn't know about it already... and Tari... Tari...

A wave of dizziness suddenly struck him, and he felt he had to sit down for a moment. There was no way he could escape her now, and she was right---he had been awful to her, after all that she had done for him. As usual, he had only been thinking of protecting himself, and yet, she still cared about him.

Doubling over slightly, wrapping his arms around his middle and closing his eyes, he managed to fight off the rising sense of nausea. No, there was nothing he could do now but face the situation and talk to her... Maybe, if he did, just for a bit, she would finally leave him alone.

***

Tari had been so lost in her own thoughts that she nearly winced when Frodo suddenly appeared from behind the trees. She tried to hide her concern a little, knowing that she once again had to act very carefully, but it was rather obvious that there was something wrong with him.

Frodo tried to put on an emotionless face. "Yes?" he asked in a formal voice, giving Tari a questioning look, as if he had no clue to what she wanted.

"Come, Frodo," Tari asked in a soft, yet determined voice, putting her hand on the rock beside her. "Please, sit down."

Frodo felt as if someone else was controlling his body when he sat down beside her without even questioning her request. Looking down, he pulled his cloak a little more tightly around himself and put his hands in his lap between his knees.

"Look, Frodo..." Tari began, hesitating for a moment. No, she had to ask him. Acting as if she hadn't noticed anything wrong with him at all would probably make him even more suspicious. "Are you all right?" she asked in a careful tone.

"Well... yes," Frodo heard himself answer, "it's just... I've got a bit of a stomachache, but it's nothing really, it's just because of the cold, I'm sure..." To his surprise he didn't feel any anger directed toward himself for admitting this, merely just relief... and he suddenly realised he was longing for her touch. He didn't have to wait long; at the same moment he could feel her thin, delicate hand stroking against his arm, finding its way down to his lap, where it was put to rest on his own hand. He had to restrain a wish to clasp it, but still, he didn't move away with the attempt to control himself.

Was this really the right opportunity to bring up the subject? Tari was pretty certain that Frodo suffered from more than a *bit* of a stomachache and pressing him would perhaps make matters worse. But on the other hand... this might be her only chance to talk to him, ever, and she knew she had to take it. "Frodo..." she continued after a few moments of silence. "The memories of the darkness still lie heavy on you... I never wanted to force you, in any way, but if you keep locking them up like this, trying to pretend that everything is all right, they will slowly eat you from inside."

Frodo said nothing, but slowly lifted his eyes, appearing to focus on something far away, a blank expression on his face. "Gandalf has told you, hasn't he?" he heard himself ask in an almost accusing voice.

"About your quest, yes, and the consequences of what you did," Tari admitted, "but the question is, how much did you actually tell *him*, save the mayor events?"

Frodo felt himself unable to respond. It was clear to him what Tari wanted with this conversation. And she was right, of course. As much as he enjoyed talking to Gandalf, he was not the right person to talk to about personal matters. Not that Gandalf wouldn't understand, but neither magic nor wisdom would help him now. He shook his head. "Not a lot. But what happened to me is not important... he has other concerns... they all have."

"What happened to you *is* important," Tari said in a soft but reassuring voice. "It is important for *you* and for those who care about you. And you need to talk about it... you need to let it out, even if it will be a painful process.'Your friends all love you... so much that they risked their lives helping you. Why cant you talk to them?"

Frodo sighed, shifting position a little as his stomach twisted with a new spasm of pain. "They have already done too much for me," he said. "And they have moved on with their lives.There are still many obstacles to overcome for them, I'm sure, and they need their strength. I could never let them know about... some things... even though they just have to... listen..." He shook his head again, shuddering.

"What about Sam then?" Tari tried to meet Frodo's eyes, but they were still distant. "He followed you all the way to Mordor. He knows what it was like... he must have some memories of his own?"

Frodo nodded slowly. "He is the closest, dearest friend I've ever had," he admitted in a voice that quivered with emotion. "But... there were some things he didn't see... he didn't carry the Ring for a long time, and we were separated for a while. His own memories are bad enough, and if I talk to him about mine... it would almost be the same as asking him to go through everything again... and there is no way I could *ever* ask him to do that."

He paused for a moment, shifting a little again, straightening his cloak with his free hand. "Sam has a different life awaiting him when he comes back, I think," he continued, smiling slightly. "He left this sweet, adorable hobbit lass behind, and the closer we get to home the more he misses her. I have no doubts they will marry within as short time, and that he will make a wonderful father."

Tari nodded, returning his smile. "I'm sure he would." After a few moments of silence, she continued, still smiling softly. "And you didn't leave anyone behind?"

Once again, Frodo shook his head. "No... I've always lived alone."

Tari was silent again for a moment, feeling her heart wrench with compassion. Loneliness. Yes, she had seen a great deal of it herself, but this hobbit... The image of the tree from her vision suddenly came back to her, and she had to restrain herself from shuddering. "But isn't there *anyone* you can talk to, Frodo? Your parents... they are...?"

Frodo nodded. "They died when I was twelve,and Bilbo..." Without warning he suddenly felt the tears rising in his eyes, and his voice cracked.

Bilbo. Even on occasions when Frodo had felt reluctant to talk about personal matters, Bilbo had always known how to address it. He had never forced Frodo to talk, but the way he brought up the subject had always made Frodo hint about what was bothering him. And most often, without even pushing the matter further or questioning him in any way, Bilbo had put the pieces together by himself and wordlessly shown that he understood cared about him... in a way that never made Frodo feel uncomfortable. Somehow, Frodo had expected that talking about the quest with him would have given him back this old, familiar sense of comfort.

Naturally he had been aware that Bilbo was aging more rapidly than a normal hobbit, since he had possessed the Ring for such a long time. But nothing in the world could have prepared him for their reunification in Rivendell. Bilbo... who had always been there... How could anyone possibly change so much in such a short time? His once so active mind was slowing, and his body was getting weary.

Frodo remembered Elrond's words from his departure; that he should look for Bilbo in the woods of the Shire when the leaves were gold before they fell. No doubt, Elrond would keep his word, but he had no power over the mortality of hobbits. Was Bilbo going to last that long? And if he did... would he still remember?

Shuddering, Frodo closed his eyes, trying to regain control of himself. "Bilbo's getting old now..." he managed in a voice that wasn't much more than a whisper. "I don't know if I'll ever see him again."

At the same moment he felt Tari's arm carefully finding its way around his back, encouraging him to lean himself against her... and though he knew that he'd better pull away, he seemed to have lost control over his body. He let himself be drawn into her embrace, feeling her warmth through the thick layer of clothes.

"It's all right, Frodo," she said in a soothing voice, gently rubbing his left arm before her hand found his. This time Frodo clasped it without a word. "You remember the promise I gave you last night?" Tari continued. "Everything you've told me stays between us, I would never ever tell anyone about it."

She pulled the shivering hobbit closer, feeling him relax a little when she tried to pour some comfort into him. But in the process she also became aware that he was experiencing far more physical pain than he had let on. She had to use a fair amount of her energy just to make it ease a little... and at the same time try to restrain her own emotions, since the waves of compassion threatened to overwhelm her, throwing her off her feet.

"I-I'm having these h-horrible nightmares..." Frodo whispered in a quivering voice. "And I've t-tried to stay away from the others, not to d-disturb their sleep, but... it's kind of unavoidable w-when you're traveling like this... s-sometimes it means I can't allow myself to s-sleep at all... and I hate myself for making them w-worry about me."

For a moment Tari let her chin lightly rest on the top of his head, rocking him slowly. "It's all right, Frodo," she repeated. "They care so much about you, you know, and caring about someone always means a great deal of worry."

"But I don't deserve it," Frodo replied in a grim voice. "They wouldn't care about me at all if they knew what I have done, and neither would you!"

For a moment he stiffened, and Tari was afraid that he was going to pull himself out of her embrace, but when she didn't appear appalled at his words, as he probably had expected her to be, he seemed to relax again.

"Are you accusing yourself for what happened? Is that part of the reason why you don't think it;s worth talking about?" Tari asked, knowing that she took a great risk: he would either give her a honest ansver, or lock himself up again.

But she was never to find out. Suddenly the air was broken by a clear, high hobbit voice calling their names. "Frooodo, Taaari!!! Are you there?!!" It was followed by the sound of light feet, quickly closing in on them.

Tari closed her eyes, clenching her teeth. No, naturally, it couldn't be helped, there was no point in being angry with Pippin... such was the nature of hobbits... And they had been wondering, of course. Several minutes must have passed since she and Frodo disappeared, despite all the talk about a hasty departure. But all the same, the only chance to make Frodo open up was lost now. There would never be another opportunity.

Sighing, she softly loosened her embrace, gingerly ruffling Frodo's curls before standing up again... but to her surprise, she suddenly felt Frodos arms closing around her again, for a brief, but grateful hug. Before Pippin came into sight, Frodo quickly wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeves and walked away a few steps from Tari.

Pippin approached them with a curious and somewhat concerned look. "Oh, *there* you are," he said in a cheerful voice. "We were almost gettin' worried, ya know. Is something the matter?"

"Oh no," Tari answered. "Sorry you had to wait, but we had some errands to run, in different directions... and the terrain gets rather rough after a couple of feet you see... so it took some time. We just met right now, on our way back."

She was a bad liar, and she was aware that Pippin would probably suspect that she wasn't telling the whole truth, but then again, she hoped that he wasn't going to question either her or Frodo, respecting his friend's privacy. She was also aware that the mere hinting of the nature of the errands had caused Frodo to blush, confirming what she had already suspected: that he was very modest when it came to such things.

"Ah, I see," Pippin said with a slight smile, but without trying to take the matter further. "So, are you ready to get going now? We don't want to be late for the Bree dinner, do we, Frodo?"

Frodo just nodded briefly, and Tari noticed with concern that the colour was escaping his face at the mentioning of food. She hoped and prayed that he at least trusted her enough now to tell her if he was getting worse.

"Very well, then," she said, trying her best to hide her frustration. "Let's not delay ourselves any further."

***

They rode in their usual formation: Tari in the lead with Gandalf, and the hobbits slightly behind them. Today, however, they rode mostly in silence. The wizard seemed to be aware of her concern for Frodo, and although he didn't say anything aloud, it soon became clear that he, along with the other hobbits, had noticed that there was something wrong.

Frodo had not said a word during the entire ride. It was obvious that he was trying to hide his discomfort, putting on a neutral face when he thought the others were watching him. But he looked paler than ever, and Tari, trying to glance behind as often as she could without making it too obvious, noticed that on several occasions he had to struggle to keep himself from falling asleep, and that his left hand often found its way to his belly, slowly rubbing it under his cloak. Sometimes he also fingered the white gem on the chain around his neck.

As elevensies drew nearer, Sam, Merry and Pippin once again engaged themselves in a discussion about their favourite dishes at the Prancing Pony. Frodo immediately started to lag behind, apparently unwilling to take part in the conversation. Sam was the first to notice, and after a few moments, Tari could see him breaking up from the group, waiting for Frodo to ride up alongside him. She forced herself to look straight ahead again, just trying to focus on their voices.

"Mister Frodo, sir," she could hear him saying in a voice that was somewhat hoarse from the cold, "I beg yer pardon... but are you all right?"

"My dear Sam," Frodo answered in a soft voice, "it really should be me asking *you* that question, and I apologize for not doing so! How are you feeling today?"

"I'm much better now, thank you," Sam replied in an instant, "and this cold's nothin' a night in a warm, nice bed won't cure. But pardon me for sayin' so, but you don't look well at all today, master."

"Well, I appreciate your concern," Tari heard Frodo answer in a formal voice, obviously feeling a bit annoyed over the question, "but I'm just a little tired. As with your case, nothing a night in a warm, nice bed won't cure. However, I'm afraid I won't be enjoyable company today, Sam... so don't mind me! Go and ride with the others."

"Very well," Sam replied. "Just tell me if you need anything." He slowly made his way back to the others, but even though they continued the conversation, Tari could see that he sent several glances behind in Frodo's direction on a regular basis, and the others soon did too.

***

"How about taking the elevensies on the road," Merry suggested. "That way we'd be finishing off that dry meat and fruit before Bree. And if we stop for lunch later, we can make a nice soup with the last bits, that would fill us up enough for the feast dinner at the Pony!"

"Yes," Pippin agreed. "And how 'out doing it right now? I'm hungry!"

Sam, Merry and Pippin dismounted their ponies and started searching through their packs, dividing the remaining food in half, saving one for later and making six equal portions of the other, despite the fact that Tari insisted she could eat from her own storage.

But when Frodo rode up to the others, he didn't even glance at the food. "Excuse me..." he said with a grim expression on his face, unable to hide the fact that his teeth were chattering a little, "could someone please hold my horse for a minute?"

Sam was with him in an instant, taking the pony's reins, and as soon as Frodo had dismounted he set off for the forest with hurried steps. Tari had to restrain herself from running after him, well aware of the nature of his problem, but also that there was no way she could help him now... she would never do anything that could make him feel embarrassed in front of his friends.

The others exchanged a number of concerned looks, but no one said anything until the silence was broken by a violent bout of coughing from Sam. Tari quickly dismounted and offered him a water bottle. After a few sips the coughing subsided and he sighed in relief. "Thank you," he whispered in a hoarse voice.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" Tari asked in a concerned voice. "That cough sounds pretty bad."

"'Tis not that bad," Sam answered, once again dismissing the matter. "T'will pass in a matter of days... and some rest in Bree. Never been sick for long... However..." he added, pausing for a short moment, glancing in the direction where Frodo had disappeared, "I'm... I'm terribly worried about Mister Frodo... He's not at all well today."

His eyes met Tari's and they were full of concern. For a moment, a sequence of images were flashing by her inner eye, images so touching that they almost brought tears to her eyes. Yes... she had always known that the friendship between Frodo and Sam was strong... but what she felt when she entered Sam's mind was overwhelming. Pure love, totally unconditional in its nature, but yet more powerful than blood ties. No matter what awaited them, Sam had followed his master everywhere, ready to sacrifice himself for his protection, and he would do it again if he had to. And there was no doubt Frodo's love for Sam was just as deep... he only had different ways of showing it.

But they had one thing in common. They both appeared to be more concerned about the other's well being than their own.

And suddenly, Tari got an idea. "Look, Sam," she began. "I have a suggestion."

***

Frodo sighed as he started to walk back. Every step caused new waves of pain to rush through his body. He barely had time to make it behind the trees this time... and there was no doubt that matters were getting worse. By now he was starting to feel downright nauseated, and judging by the chills and the weakness he felt, he was probably developing a fever.

What if he told anyone? Tari was probably already suspecting he was getting worse, and the thought of her touch and compassion was comforting. But he knew that she'd never try to approach him in front of the others... unless he showed her that he wanted her to. But no... they were never to see him in such a state. He had to hold on. They could not be very far from Bree now...

As he came back into the others' view again, he became aware that everyone was looking at him, their faces full of concern, asking the same question without words.

"I'm fine," he said in a firm voice before anyone had a chance to speak. "Let's just ride on."

But his words were not convincing. The gasp of pain that emerged from his lips as he mounted the pony again did not escape Tari's ears.

***

Once again, Frodo was lagging behind. He had accepted the food they were offering him, but slipped most of it into his own pack, just keeping a few bits of dried fruit and carefully nibbling from a piece of dried apple just to make it look like he was eating.

Tari halted for a moment and rode up alongside Frodo. He turned his head, looking up at her with a rather questioning but also somewhat grateful look, waiting for her to speak.

"Frodo..." she began. "I can see that you are tired and not feeling well. Why don't you come and ride with me for a while... on Trifas, so you can rest a little?"

In gratitude, Frodo smiled slightly, but shook his head. "Thank you, but no thank you," he answered. "It's not that bad. Sam is probably feeling far worse than I am... he should be given that offer instead."

"Well," Tari said, "to be honest, he already has. I and Gandalf suggested that he could ride with any of us, but he refuses unless you agree to do so as well."

Frodo shook his head again, and despite his misery he couldn't help smiling. "Good old Sam," he said. "Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice here. But I don't want to be the cause of another stop. It can wait until lunch time, since we're stopping anyway... and we have to re-arrange the packs."

"Can you manage until then?" Tari asked with a concerned look.

"I can," Frodo replied in a firm voice. "It's just a bit of a stomach ache, nothing serious..."

***

"Am I the only one in this company who *ever* thinks about food?" Pippin complained.

"No," Merry smiled, "you're quite right, isn't it about time that we break for lunch now?"

Tari drew a deep sigh of relief. During the last hour she'd had no doubts that Frodo was starting to feel even worse. He had visibly nodded off on several occasions, and as he woke up and tried to settle himself in the saddle he had gasped in pain. By now only his stubbornness kept him going: his teeth clenched and his eyes fixed on the road in front of him.

Thankfully no one had any objections to Merry's proposal, especially since the weather appeared to be turning for the worse once again; dark clouds were forming at the horizon, and there was no doubt that the rain would catch up with them again, sooner or later. As soon as they found a suitable place they halted, starting to dismount the horses and opening their packs.

When Frodo finally rode up to them, Tari knew at once that something was very wrong. He was deathly pale, his teeth were chattering loudly and he was breathing heavily. His eyes seemed to be half shut... as if he was almost unaware of what was happening around him. Tari quickly handed over Trifas' reins to Merry, who happened to be standing closest, and hurriedly approached him, tightly followed by Sam.

Frodo halted; an almost mechanical pull of the reins brought the pony to a full stop. There was no change in his facial expression--he didn't even lift his eyes. His pony also appeared to have noticed that something was bothering his master... and he was turning his head, looking at the others, uncertain of how to act.

"Frodo..." Tari began, and Sam continued. "Master, pardon me for saying so, but you are not well."

Frodo started moving to dismount. His teeth were clenched now, as he was
obviously fighting the pain. "No... really... it's... it's all right," he said in a voice that was nothing more than a cracked whisper. "I j-just need a little rest, that's all."

Carefully he swung his leg over the back of the pony, grimacing in pain, and slid down. But as his feet touched the ground his knees buckled, and he slumped forward with a moan. In an instant Tari was there, quickly folding her arms around his chest, preventing him from falling. Kneeling, she lowered him to rest in a semi reclined position against her lap, gently rubbing his chest, trying to take his hands. "Easy now... it's all right, Frodo... There now... you'll be able to rest in a moment..."

Frodo struggled a little, trying to sit up. "I'm j-just tired..." he whispered, his teeth now chattering so loud that it was almost inaudible.

"Shhh," Tari soothed. "Just relax..."

After a few moments Frodo gave in and allowed himself to rest against Tari's lap, his eyes tightly shut and his fingers clasped around her hands.

The others acted without a word. A double set of bedrolls were quickly unpacked and placed on the smoothest spot of ground they could find. While Sam was gathering as many blankets as could be spared, Tari helped Frodo to lie down on the bedrolls, placing him on his side, his head resting on another bedroll. At once he curled up, tightening his legs against his stomach, and a quiet moan escaped his lips.

After tucking Frodo in, with some help from Sam, Tari sat down beside him, gently stroking his hair. "Frodo, dear," she said, her voice filled with concern, "why didn't you tell us you were getting worse?"

"I-Im sorry..." Frodo whispered. "I'm so sorry about all this... that I..." He paused for a moment, swallowing hard. "I don't want to be a b-burden."

"It's all right, Frodo," Tari said, her voice filled with pity. "You would never be a burden to us... and you can't help being ill... it just happens."

She put a hand on his brow, letting it rest there for a moment. His skin felt clammy with perspiration, and his forehead was warm to the touch, though his hands still were cold as ice. "You have a slight fever," she said in a soft voice. "Have you been sick?"

Frodo shook his head. "No," he whispered, avoiding her eyes. "Just... well... you know..."

Tari nodded, quickly leaving the subject. "Do you hurt elsewhere?"

He shook his head again. "No. Just my stomach and my head... and I feel so c-cold..."

His teeth started chattering again before he even finished the sentence.

"It's all right." Tari said, gently rubbing his back through the blankets. "You will feel warmer within a few minutes. Just try to rest now."

She reached for the pack that lay beside her and took out a small piece of cloth. After wetting it with the last drops from her water bottle, she started stroking it over Frodo's face, closing her eyes for a moment. Images of pain and nausea filled her inner vision, but there were no real clues to what was causing the illness. She used all her strength to try and ease it a bit, and yet, it felt as if she was barely scratching the surface. But her touch seemed to relax him a bit, and though the pain still remained, he appeared to be more comfortable now, his breathing slowing a little.

Meanwhile, the others were preparing lunch in haste. They ate in silence, all sending concerned glances in Frodo's direction. Sam sat aside two bowls, filling one of them with soup and the other with broth from the top of the soup pot. Kneeling down slightly behind Tari, he tapped her lightly on her shoulder. "I've brought some soup for you, miss," he said in a quiet voice. He turned to Frodo, who appeared to be sleeping now. "How is he?"

At his words, Frodo reacted, opening his eyes for a moment. "Better, thanks," he said in a hoarse whisper.

"Thank you, Sam," Tari said in a grateful voice, "but it wasn't necessary, really."

"With all respect, miss, you've got to eat," Sam replied, offering her the bowl. "Mr. Frodo," he continued, hesitating a little before continuing. "If you feel up to it, I've brought you some broth... very light on the stomach..."

But at the thought of eating, Frodo moaned, curling up more tightly and swallowing hard. "Sorry, Sam..." he gasped, "but I don't think I can eat right now..." He swallowed again, trying to breathe deeply.

In an instant Tari was with him, once again stroking his face with the wet cloth, lifting his head a little from the bedroll and easing him over the edge. "There now... just let it come up, if you need," she soothed.

"I'm so sorry, Sir," Sam said, his voice filled with pity.

"It's all right Sam," Frodo whispered, swallowing once again, his breathing slowing a little as he obviously managed to fight off the nausea. "You were just trying to help. How-however I think I better try to sleep now, for a little... go ahead and eat, Tari... I'll be all right..."

Gently Tari put him down again, running her hand through his curls before tightening the blankets around him. "Sam," she said in a subdued voice. "Could you please get one of those smaller buckets for me... so we can place it beside him... just in case, so we don't have to move him if he has to..."

Sam nodded, and within an instant he appeared with a bucket. "I better go help them re-arrange the packs," he said. "Long process, I'm afraid."

Tari nodded, quietly placing the bucket beside her. "Thank you. Don't exhaust yourself, though."

"If you need me, just call for me and I'll be right here," Sam said, and after giving Frodo another pitiful look he returned to the others. Tari could hear them re-stow the gear, the sound of metal against metal and the rustling of cloth. Still, not many words were shared between them, and even Pippin appeared to be deeply concerned.

Eventually picking up her bowl of soup, Tari once again put her free hand to rest upon the ailing hobbit's brow. Finally he appeared to be drifting into sleep, his face relaxing and his breath becoming longer and deeper.

***

"Frodo..." Tari said in a soft voice, carefully rocking the sleeping hobbit a little. "I'm sorry, but you have to wake up now, for a moment... just so we can stow these bedrolls into the packs... then you'll join me on horseback and be able to sleep again..."

Frodo's eyelids slowly fluttered open, and he nodded softly as Tari eased him from the bedrolls, once again putting him to rest against her lap. "How are you feeling?"

"A little better," Frodo answered in a whisper. "Actually..." he added, "I'm a bit thirsty..."

"That's good," Tari smiled, once again taking out the water bottle that Sam had refilled for her, and putting it to his parched lips. Frodo drank carefully, but far from as much as she had hoped him to, before pulling away. Still, she was relieved that he at least had taken some liquid.

"Tari..." Frodo began, suddenly looking very uncomfortable. He hesitated for a few moments before continuing. "I'm... I'm afraid I need to pay... another visit to the forest before... before..."

Tari nodded. "Don't worry... we'll help you there. There's nothing to be embarrassed about... as I said before... you can't help being ill."

After carrying Frodo to a suitable place, accompanied by Sam and Merry, Tari left him in their care and didn't return until they called her back. Frodo was silent and his facial expressions were grim. No one said a word when Tari picked him up, and it appeared that every moment caused him pain.

"There now," Tari soothed as they approached Trifas. "Now, you'll just sit here in front of me, and-"

"Really Tari... I don't know..." Frodo interrupted in a hoarse voice.

"What's the matter?" Tari asked, looking at him questioningly.

"I don't know if it's such a good idea, really," Frodo continued, avoiding her eyes, as if embarrassed. "What if I... I still might h-have to... throw up... or... you know..."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," Tari said, her voice filled with compassion. "If you need to stop, for whatever reason, just tell me."

Frodo nodded. "Thank you so much, he whispered and allowed Tari to carefully lift him up on Trifas' broad back. Mounting behind him, Tari tightened the blankets around him and pulled him a closer, encouraging him to lean against her. Finally she drew her cloak around them both, fastening it with a pin a few inches under Frodo's chin. Touching his hands, she felt that they were still cold as ice. She tied a knot on the reins, (knowing that Trifas would be listening to every shifting of her weight in the saddle, and every spoken command), and took Frodo's small hands in hers. "There now..." she whispered. "Now, try to rest... tonight, you'll be sleeping in a nice, warm bed by the fire... after a long, hot bath... just a few hours to go now..."

***

Frodo allowed himself to lean against Tari's chest, gratefully accepting the warmth she was offering; drowsiness overcoming him almost at once. Yes, there was definitely something about her touch... though his stomach was still twisting in agony, her presence was somehow making it easier to fight it, as if her compassion was so strong, that it actually affected the sensation of pain.

Yes, he had been healed by elves before, and he knew about their abilities. Yet this was different. Tari always seemed to know just how to act, as if she knew just what he felt, even though he was trying to hide it, and didn't care that he was trying to do so. She just wanted him to get healed, no matter the cause of his pain. And though he normally would try to do anything to lock himself up, something about her made him feel different... as if it didn't matter. And though he had felt reluctant at first, he was now blessing Elbereth for her presence.

However, the nausea he had been feeling had still not eased, and the rocking, although more endurable than on the back of his pony, was only making matters worse. Despite his drowsiness he had felt it rising in his throat on several occasions now, his brow breaking out in a cold sweat as he had managed to fight it back. He felt another wave coming in now and tried to stifle it... no, perhaps he'd better tell her to stop the horse now... yes... he had to... the pain... but just a few more steps... just a few steps... so tired... so tired... he'd better tell her... he had to...

But feeling Tari's grip around his fingers tighten a little as she pulled him closer, sleep finally overtook him, and he fell into a deep, peaceful slumber...


To be continued....