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.

*Special note on chapter 6* As you probably will notice, some of the dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from Lord of the Rings; The Return of the King, chapter Homeward Bound. I feel somewhat guilty for lifting it out of its right context, but choose to do so to keep the characters as authentic as possible.

*Lots* of thanks and hugs for LilyBaggins, (my proof reader), and for all my dear reviewers!



***



6. Of Ginger Tea, Hot Baths, and Papers of Great Importance

A few hours later, the dark clouds caught up with the travelers, and within a short time the rain was pouring down, leaving them miserable and wet, save Frodo and Sam, who still rode with Tari and Gandalf, well protected under their cloaks. Frodo had slept quietly almost since they had started, and his hands felt a little warmer now, still clasped between Taris slender fingers. Even Sam appeared to be asleep now, knowing that his master was safe.

As expected, the gate-keeper of the South-gate of Bree greeted them with suspicion, reluctant to let them in without a closer inspection. Gandalf, Merry and Pippin appeared a bit surprised, and almost disappointed about his behavior, as if they had expected a much warmer welcome and to be recognised at once. But it was not until Gandalf had spoken that the gate-keeper appeared to remember and eventually opened up the gate for them, apologising for the delay. Tari quietly showed him her contract, gesturing at the sleeping hobbit in front of her, and the gate-keeper waved her through without a word.

Tari could hear Merry and Pippin sigh in relief as the sign of The Prancing Pony finally became visible in the dim lights of the city. Nothing seemed to have changed since her last visit; the lights behind the red curtains in the lower windows still burned with a welcoming light . . . whispering of warmth and shelter from the rain. But not until they had pulled the bell string several times did the door slowly open and a pair of suspicious eyes peep through the crack.

"Nob?" Tari asked in a soft voice, trying not to disturb the still-sleeping Frodo.

The door opened wider, and soon the small, chubby hobbit servant become visible, smiling in
recognition and relief. "Miss Tari! and... well, I never, Master *Gandalf*!!!"

Without any further words of welcome, Nob turned around, shouting into the hall. "Mr. Butterbur! Master! They've come back!"

"Oh have they? I'll learn them!" a voice was heard from afar, and within a few moments Barliman Butterbur himself appeared, causing the hobbits to gasp in surprise as he carried a club in his hand, ready to strike. But recognising the travelers at once, the look on his face changed to wonder and delight. "Nob, you woolly-pated ninny!" he cried, making the hobbit servant turn his head away in shame."Can't you give old friends their names? You shouldn't go scaring me like that, with times as they are. Well, well! And where have you come from? I never expected to see any of you folk again, and that's a fact: going off into the Wild with that Strider, and all those Black Men about. But I'm right glad to see you, and none more than Gandalf. And..."

He turned to Tari, studying her with concerned eyes. "You've found the Ellglade messenger too, I see," he added. "We have been expecting you for a while now, Miss Tari; they have been asking for you..."

He looked at her, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"Don't blame Nob, sir," Tari said. "He couldn't help it---we gave him quite a scare."

Nob gave Tari a grateful look and Gandalf took over. "This young lady has been riding with us for the last two days," he explained, "and the weather has delayed us..."

Tari nodded. "And one of the hobbits is sick..." she continued, gesturing at Frodo, who still slept, despite the commotion. "Can you please arrange so that he can lie down while you prepare rooms for us? It's not contagious," she quickly added as Butterbur had looked worried at the mentioning of illness.

"Of course," he said. "I'll see to that. But come in! Come in! And I'll see what can be done about supper, as soon as may be; but I'm shorthanded at present. Hey, Nob, you slowcoach! Tell Bob! Ah, but there I'm forgetting, Bob's gone: goes home to his folk at nightfall now. Well, take the guests' horses to the stables, Nob! And you'll be taking your horse to his stable yourself, Gandalf, I don't doubt. A fine beast, as I said when I first set eyes on him. Well, come in! Make yourselves at home!"

Merry and Pippin dismounted first, along with Gandalf, who slowly put Sam down on the ground and started walking his mighty steed toward the stable. After waiting for Nob to lead away one horse at the time, Tari carefully prepared herself for dismounting Trifas. She unfastened her cloak, and still keeping a firm grip on Frodos left leg, she slid down. Once again tightening the blankets around him, she carefully eased him from the horse, holding him close. He whimpered a little, but didn't wake up even now. How thin he was, Tari mused to herself. Despite his thick layer of clothes he was not much heavier than a small child... She sighed, softly rocking his tiny body while waiting for Nob to return. As he did, she quickly handed over Trifas reins to him. Usually it was Bob who took care of Trifas at her visits if she was not asked to do it herself.

"Nob, I'm sorry..." she said, looking at him apologetically, "I know he's a bit too high for you, and I'd be delighted to help you, but..." She looked down at the bundle in her arms, sighing in concern. "Im sure Gandalf will help you with the saddle, if you ask him."

Smiling gratefully, Nob shook his head. "You're most kind, but don't you worry about me, Miss Tari," he said. "I'll handle it. He's not the first high horse I've been takin' care of... I have my tricks. You just take care of Mr. Baggins now..." He slowly started walking toward the stable, and Trifas, obviously understanding the gravity of the situation, followed him, as gentle as a lamb.

Butterbur suddenly turned up in the doorway again, waving for them to come in, and Tari, along with Merry, Sam and Pippin, hurried inside, greeted by the warmth and all the scents of the inn. Butterbur lead them through the front hall and into a smaller parlour. The hobbits appeared surprised over how few guests were staying at the inn; only a few voices could be heard from the Common Room. It would make sense, Tari thought. One year ago, when they last passed through this town, there were still many travelers on the roads...

The innkeeper gestured toward a couch at the far end of the room. "You can put him down there," he said, and Tari complied, tenderly placing two cushions under Frodos head before sitting down beside him and stroking his damp curls out of his face.

"What's the matter with the little master?" Butterbur asked in a concerned voice.

"It's his stomach, Merry answered briefly, giving Frodo a pitiful look.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Butterbur said. "We can have some ginger tea prepared for him, and perhaps some broth later... if he feels up to it... after I've got those rooms prepared for you."

"Oh yes, some ginger tea would be the best thing to give him now, thank you," Sam agreed, his tone suggesting that this remedy had been successfully tried on his master before.

"Well see to it then, Butterbur nodded.

Tari put her hand to rest upon Frodos brow for a moment. He felt a bit warm... maybe a little bit warmer than before, but it was still nothing more than a slight fever, and his pain appeared to have eased a bit. But at her touch he suddenly stirred, his bright eyes slowly fluttering open.

"Shhh, Frodo," Tari whispered. "You don't need to wake up... its all right..."

But realising he was no longer on the horseback, Frodo could not allow himself to fall asleep again. At first he tried to sit up to look around, but gently restrained by Taris hand on his forehead, he became aware of how weak he felt and sank down on the cushions again. "Where am I?" he whispered.

"Were at the Pony now," Tari answered in a soothing voice. "Soon you'll be resting comfortably in a warm bed... how are you feeling?"

"Actually..." Frodo answered, so quiet that just those who were sitting closest to him could hear. "Very much better, thank you... far from well, but my stomach... its almost as if its... numb, somehow."

Tari nodded, and though she was relieved that he was feeling better, she was also aware that this numbness could be a reaction to her efforts to reduce his pain, and she hoped that the effects would last. "That's good," she said, smiling broadly. "And you're not feeling sick either?"

Frodo shook his head, smiling slightly in return. "No... it's much better..."

"That's good to hear," Tari answered in an encouraging voice. "You'll probably be completely recovered tomorrow."

Frodo nodded again, closing his eyes. "I hope so..."

Suddenly Gandalfs silhouette became visible in the doorway, and Butterbur nodded at him. "Oh, yes," he said in a voice that suggested that he almost had forgotten about it, "concerning the rooms... would you like to have the same rooms as - before? They're free. Indeed most rooms are empty these days, as I'll not hide from you, for you'll find it out soon enough."

"I am not going to need a bed tonight," Gandalf said, looking at the innkeeper. "I think we will have a lot of things to talk about, old friend." He smiled. "But my companions are all rather tired, Im afraid... perhaps you can put in an extra human-sized bed in the hobbit room you offered them last time?"

Tari gave the wizard a grateful look, but Butterbur shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said, but the doors of the hobbit rooms are too narrow for human-sized beds..."

"But Miss Tari better stay with Mr. Frodo," Sam said, looking at the innkeeper with grave eyes. "If she isn't a healer in disguise, shes the best natural healer I've ever seen, and my master needs her..."

"Sam, dear," Tari smiled. "It's all right. I can sleep on the floor---it would be no trouble at all. Just give me a couple of blankets and perhaps a thin mattress--"

"Oh, no you *don't,*" Frodo interrupted, his voice so unexpectedly loud that they all winced. "There is no way I would allow you to spend your only night within the warm walls of a house for weeks on a cold floor, just because I happen to have a bit of a stomachache!"

"Easy now, Frodo," Tari said, once again putting her hand on his forehead to make him lie down. "I'm certain we'll eventually find a solution that will satisfy us all." She looked at the innkeeper, who now appeared to be deep in thought.

"In fact..." he said after a few moments of silence, "I might have an alternative for you, but I'm not certain youll approve it, and it is not really according to the rules of this inn... but I'm willing to make an exception for you."

"Well, then, tell us about it," Tari said.

"You see," Butterbur started, a bit hesitantly at first, "at the same floor as the hobbit rooms, there are two spare human-sized family rooms that have been empty for months, if not longer.... Now, only problem is, there is just one bed in those... but all the same, it's meant to fit three people; two grown ups and a smaller child... so there'd be plenty of space...." He looked at Tari, who turned to meet Frodos eyes. "And that way," he added, also looking at Frodo now, "you won't wake everyone up if youre having problems with--"

"All right, all right," Tari interrupted, knowing that Butterbur could be rather clumsy with his explanations, and Frodo was obviously feeling humiliated enough by the situation. "We know about the conditions, and that would be perfectly all right with me... if it is all right with you, Frodo?"

Frodo was silent for a moment, looking away, but finally, he nodded briefly. "I thank you for your kind offer," he said. "Sam needs his sleep... he hasnt been feeling too well either, and the others need rest as well... and Butterbur is right, I might not sleep quietly through the night... however..." He looked at Tari with anxious eyes before continuing. "I don't want to disturb you either... there is no doubt that the best solution would be to place me in a single room, so you would all be left in peace."

"But there is no way we would allow that," Tari said.

"I know," Frodo said, once again looking away, "and therefore, I agree..."

"Good." Tari smiled, patting Frodos arm. She could hear the others sighing in relief. For a moment, the ailing hobbit's eyes met Taris again, and they were full of gratitude.

"I can show you to the rooms at once," Butterbur said, and carefully easing her small charge from the couch, Tari followed the innkeeper through the dark and empty hallways with Merry, Pippin and Sam slightly behind her. Gandalf chose to stay in the parlour, waiting for Butterbur to return.

"I reckon you want the rooms closest to each other," the innkeeper said, stopping outside a door that was about two times as broad as most doors on that floor. "Well, I guess you all remember where you slept last time... it must have been over there..." He gestured to a smaller door close by, and the hobbits nodded. "It's our biggest hobbit-sized room, with four beds," he continued. "And this is the closest family room..." He put a key in the lock and turned it, and the door slid open with a creaking sound. The two candles he was carrying cast dancing shadows on the walls as they entered, and what was revealed almost made Tari gasp in surprise.

The room was big, much larger than expected. Compared to the rooms she was normally offered at her stays, it was huge. And it even had a window, a large window, apparently facing some kind of overgrown backyard. The bed was so broad that Tari was certain it easily would have fit four fully grown humans. Rather close to the fireplace, which took up an entire corner, was a table with four chairs. Close to the bed stood a nightstand with a water pitcher and a basin and a dresser with several large drawers.

"I hope the room will be to your liking," Butterbur said. "Im afraid both rooms are rather cold at the moment, but as soon as that slowcoach Nob returns from the stables, I'll ask him to light the fires, starting with this room, and bring up your packs."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Butterbur," Tari said, gently putting Frodo down on the bed and once again elevating his head a little with help from the large, fluffy down pillows that lay under the counterpane. "It's perfect."

But the innkeeper once again appeared to be lost in thought. "Nob... stables..." he said to himself. "Now!" he suddenly exclaimed, slapping his forehead. "Now what does that remind me of?"

"Not another letter you've forgotten, I hope, Mr. Butterbur?" Merry said.

"Now, now, Mr. Brandybuck, don't go reminding me of that! But there, you've broken my thought. Now where was I? Ah! That was it. I've something that belongs to you. If you recollect Bill Ferny and the horse thieving: his pony as you bought, well, it's here. Come back all of itself, it did. But where it had been to you know better than me. It was as shaggy as an old dog and as lean as a clothes-rail, but it was alive. Nob's looked after it."

"What! My Bill?" Sam cried. "Well, I was born lucky, whatever my gaffer may say. There's another wish come true! Where is he?"

Butterbur laughed. "Hes safe and sound in the stable with the other ponies, and it didn't take him long to make up for all the food hed been neglected in his days, I'd say."

Sams eyes wandered between the hobbits, an apologetic and almost embarrassed look on his face.

"But of course, dear Sam," Frodo said. "You go ahead and visit him. Just make sure you don't miss that dinner now." He smiled at his servant, and Sam beamed in delight. "Thank you, sir," he replied. "Oh no, I wont. I'll be right back, master, I just need to see him, that's all..." With that, he disappeared out in the hallway, and Merry and Pippin chuckled, shaking their heads. Frodo merely smiled a little.

"Bill followed us all the way to the gates of Moria, where we had to let him go," Merry explained to Tari. "He and Sam were equally attached to each other... despite everything that has happened to us, I think he's been thinking of him every day."

"He has such a good heart," Tari said.

"He has indeed," Frodo agreed.

"Well," Butterbur interrupted, "certainly much better than my head, that's for sure! I almost forgot---dinner it was! It will be ready within half an hour, and we can serve it here in the parlour, if you like... unless you wish to take it in your rooms, that is. Then I'd very much appreciate if you came and picked it up in the kitchen by yourself... my apologies, but as I mentioned earlier, I'm a bit short handed at present. Nob will fetch the dishes later, and ah, I reckon you all want a nice, warm bath before going to sleep? We'll take care of that too... and if you want to wash up a bit before dinner, there is a washing room down the hall, but oh, why do I need to mention that, since you're all familiar with the place?"

"Now *that* is something we've all been looking forward to," Tari said. "Make that four baths in the hobbits' room and one here."

"Of course," the innkeeper said, and Frodo gave Tari a brief, but grateful look. "And if you still want that ginger tea, Mr... Underhill, no, Baggins, was it, wasnt it, you'll have it in a moment," Butterbur continued, looking at Frodo, who nodded.

"Frodo..." Tari said, "they said they could bring some broth for you as well. Do you feel up to it? You need some fluids, you know..."

Frodo closed his eyes again, obviously still not very comfortable with the thought of eating, but nodded anyway. "I suppose I can try," he whispered.

"That's good," Tari said, and her relief was mirrored in the eyes of the others. "I can get it from the kitchen myself within fifteen minutes or so."

Butterbur handed Merry the key to the hobbit room, and after lighting the lamp at the bedside table with one of his candles, he stepped out into the hallway. "Nob will be with you in a moment," he said before shutting the door. "And if you need anything before that, don't hesitate to call for me!"

Tari reached for the drawer and was happy to find some extra blankets inside. "As soon as the room is warm enough, and you've come back from your bath, we'll tuck you in more comfortably..." she promised, stripping the old, rather damp blankets from Frodo. "In the meantime... let me just remove your sword here, so it won't get in the way."

Frodo just nodded quietly and guided her slender fingers to the sword belt. She started to unfasten it, careful not to tighten it too much as she tried to get the pin out of the hole. But even the slightest pressure on his belly made him wince in pain.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Frodo..." Tari apologised as she put the sword down by the bed, reaching for the dry blanket.

"It's all right..." Frodo answered. "It's still a little tender to the touch, that's all..."

Tari once again put her hand on his brow, trying to pour some more comfort and calm into his ailing body, before she tucked him in with the dry blanket. "Now you just lie here and rest. Try to sleep again, if you can... I'll be right here...." She stroked his hair reassuringly.

"Yes, dear cousin," Merry said, finally able to make his lips to move. "We'll be right here for you... don't you worry about anything."

Frodo didn't answer; he just closed his eyes, swallowing slightly, and appeared to be relaxing anew.

***

It didn't take many minutes until a soft knock was heard on the door and Nob entered carrying a whole sack of firewood. Frodo was asleep again, and the other hobbits had gone to clean themselves up, so Tari just helped him in silence and soon a warm fire was burning on the hearth. She gestured toward the door, and they both stepped out into the hallway; Nob carefully closing the door behind them. "Now, Miss Tari, what can I do for you?"

Tari thought for a few moments. "I'd like to have... two extra buckets of water, one at least lukewarm and the other cold... perhaps some pots for heating water as well... and some ginger so we can prepare more tea ourselves, if Frodo needs it... along with a couple of hot-water bottles and some washing cloths, some large towels..." She hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I'm afraid I have some laundry to be done as well... practically all my clothes are in need of washing..."

"I'm sorry, miss," Nob replied, looking at her apologetically, "but we no longer offer laundry services, I'm afraid ... Mr. Butterbur had to let some people go because of the bad times. But I can do it for you, it'd be no trouble at all! As soon as my duties are over for the day."

"Oh no, I can do it myself then... if you perhaps could bring up two laundry basins, one for washing and the other for rinsing..."

"Anything for you, Miss Tari!" Nob smiled. "You'll have your laundry basins as soon as I'm able to prepare them, and Ill try to remember the rest of your list as well. And if you need anything else during the night, just pull the bell string and I'll be here in an instant!"
Tari thanked the servant and entered the room again, relieved to feel a wave of warmer air greeting her as she opened the door. It was warming up quickly, and she had no doubts that it would be really warm by bedtime. Putting a few more logs on the fire, she hung the damp blankets on the clothesline close by and wrote Frodo a short message; that she was in the kitchen and would be back shortly, in case he woke up while she was gone. After making sure he was still well tucked in, she quietly slipped out into the hallway again, carefully closing the door behind her.

When she entered the kitchen, Tari was relieved to see that the ginger tea and the warm broth had already been prepared. She only had to wait half a minute for her own dinner, and never before had she been offered such delicacies; the chicken stew looked absolutely fabulous, and there was even a slice of cake for dessert. There was hardly enough room on her tray for all the dishes.

She had just made it to the beginning of the hallway when something suddenly came dashing toward her out of the darkness, nestling itself around her legs. It only took her half a moment to realise what it was; Butterburs big, black furry cat, who always appreciated her visits; several times he had even insisted on sharing rooms with her. Now she had to stop short to avoid stumbling over or stepping on him, spilling some broth over her hand in the process. "You rascal!" she scolded with a laugh, kneeling and putting down the tray for a moment, knowing that he wouldn't give up until she had greeted him properly. "Don't you realise what you could have done?"

The cat had no regrets, however, demandingly stroking himself against her, purring loudly. Feeling the smell of the chicken broth, he eagerly started to lick her fingers; his green eyes glowing in the dim light.

"Hey!" Tari giggled. "Doesn't your master feed you enough? Oh, Ill tell him, as soon as you stop that! And scaring a poor girl like that... Mr. Butterbur clearly needs to teach you some manners!"

She buried her other hand in his fur, ruffling it affectionately... but suddenly she became aware of a shadow behind her, and the cat disappeared as quickly as he had come. Rising again, she turned around in alarm.

It was a man---a rather thin, slim-faced man with a stubbed beard, white streaks of gray running through it as well as his hair, which hung in filthy, tangled locks around his head. Even from a distance Tari could feel that he stank from sweat and old beer, and already before he opened his mouth, she knew what he was thinking about; she didn't even have to meet his gleaming eyes. "Just name yer price, miss," he said in a hissing voice, laughing mockingly, "and I'll lick ye in places far more pleasant..."

Tari turned around again, closing her eyes and clenching her teeth, trying not to gag. Yes, she should have expected this. Why would this stay at The Prancing Pony be different from her previous ones? Men were always the same... and would remain such. From experience, she knew that she'd better just ignored him, no matter how furious she felt.

Swiftly picking up the tray, she hurried toward the room again. Frodo needed her and nothing else mattered now... she could not allow herself to be distracted from being angry over some petty incident that concerned no one but herself.

To her relief, her charge was still asleep when she arrived, and the room was much warmer now. Noticing that Nob had already brought her a bucket of cold water and a pile of fluffy towels and washing cloths of different sizes, she put down the tray on the bedside table, removing her own plates and putting them on the dining table before sitting on the bed beside Frodo, carefully stroking his cheek. "Frodo, dear... your ginger tea and broth are here now."

Frodo whimpered softly, stirring uneasily before slowly opening his eyes, looking a bit bewildered at first. But as he met her eyes, he nodded softly.

"Some tea first, perhaps?" Tari started to pour the steaming drink from the pot into a large tea cup, and Frodo nodded again. "I can manage myself," he said, slowly starting to sit up, but at the sound of his laboured breathing, Tari slid up behind him, putting an arm around his chest. "Frodo..." she said in a concerned voice, "you can hold the cup if you're feeling up to it, but you're still not well... at least allow me to support you, all right?"

Resigning, Frodo nodded again. Leaning against her, he reached for the cup. His hands were shaking a little, but he could hold them stable enough to drink.

"Are you in pain again?" Tari asked as she felt a wave of discomfort rush through her body when she touched his arm.

Carefully sipping the tea, Frodo managed a weak smile. "Sometimes, I think you know the answers even before you ask me," he said.

Tari was silent, hoping he would leave the subject. Naturally, he must have suspected something about her abilities, considering his nature and his previous contact with the elves, but yet she didnt want to discuss it with him as yet, since she was well aware that there still was a risk he could shut her out if a situation was getting too uncomfortable, particularly if he knew about her limitations. But to her relief he chose to answer her question instead. "Well..." he said, hesitating for a moment and taking a new sip of the tea before continuing. "It kind of comes and goes, I guess... but it's much better than before, really... I think I can try some of that broth now..."

Tari helped him put the cup down on the bedside table and put the tray with the broth bowl on his lap. Rubbing his back lightly, she spoke to him in an encouraging voice. "I think our baths will be ready soon... that will do you good... and then you'll sleep more comfortably, no doubt, under these lovely down quilts... and tomorrow, I'm sure you'll feel so much better."

"Thank you," Frodo said in a whisper, lifting the bowl and taking a cautious sip.

"If you need a chamber pot, there is not only one, but three of them right here under the bed, and don't worry, I'll step out to give you privacy... and there will always be a basin nearby, in case you feel sick again.... Just promise to tell me if you're getting worse... it's nothing to be ashamed of... and I'll help you..."

Frodo said nothing in reply, but took her hand, squeezing it hard.

***

Tari was relieved that Frodo had actually been able to drink more than half of the broth, along with one large cup of ginger tea and some water, before announcing that he was full. She had hardly tucked him in again before he fell asleep, and as she finished her own dinner, Nob came in, carrying the promised laundry basins. "I'll bring some more water for you in a moment, miss," he said in a whisper, careful not to disturb Frodo. "And were heating the bath water as we speak."

"Good, Tari nodded with a smile. "You're the best, Nob... you better prepare the hobbits baths first... the sooner we can tuck this one in, the better."

"They'll be ready in an instant, miss," Nob promised as he slipped out again, taking the dirty plates and cups with him.

Tari opened her pack, taking out her clothes and arranging them in piles to prepare them for the washing. Everything was so worn and dirty... she hoped she would find some time to mend them properly during her stay at the inn....

"Time?" she heard a skeptical voice saying in the back of her head. "You're talking about time? You were supposed to be back in Ellglade two days ago already! A messenger is never late, no matter the circumstances!"

"Messenger or not, there is no way I'd *ever* leave him now," Tari heard herself saying aloud. "Not until hes well again... no matter the consequences..."

She reached down into her pack again and pulled out a small leather bundle from the bottom. Untying the leather straps that were bound around it, she carefully unfolded its contents: a white, long nightshirt that her foster mother had sewn for her during her last year... now saved for the rare opportunities when she was sleeping in a real bed.

Humming softly, she ran her hands over the soft fabric... still clean and white, but a bit damp. Gingerly hanging it on the clothesline in front of the fire, she sat down at the bed again, beside the sleeping hobbit, gently checking his temperature and finding it was about the same. She wished that Nob would hurry up a bit now... but she hadn't even finished the thought when she heard someone at the door.

Relieved, she quickly rose to greet him... but as the door slid open, her look of delight changed to fear. It was neither Nob, Merry nor someone else from the company... she was staring straight into the gleaming eyes of the man from her earlier encounter in the hallway.

At once she tried to slam the door shut, but she wasnt strong enough, and the man pushed himself into the room, once again laughing scornfully, his eyes locked at her body.

"What do you want?" Tari asked, trying not to look frightened, though she couldn't stop herself from backing away.

"Yeah, what could I possibly want from ye, girl?" the man said, making it sound as if he was talking to a retarded child.

"Get out!" Tari heard herself saying, too late realising how shrill her voice sounded.

Suddenly the man's expression changed; a dark shadow came over his face, and his eyes filled with wrath. "No one ignores me like that," he hissed. "I don't like it... 'specially when it comes from scanty lil' girls like you... who should know better than to turn down an offer from a wealthy man!"

Before Tari even had reacted, frozen with fear, the man leapt forward, grabbing her by the collar, and she felt his hideous breath against her face. "Ye should have known better, and now ye'd best give me some for free, or I'll take whats mine!"

Tari tried to wring herself loose and reached into her vest pocket. Suddenly a thump was heard, followed by a high pitched hobbit voice. "Don't you *dare* touch her!"

Maybe the man was actually a bit distracted by Frodo cry, or Taris despair had added to her strength, but finally she managed to free her right hand and slip the fingers down into her pocket, finding the wrinkled, well-worn piece of paper she always carried with her. "NO, Frodo!" she cried. "Don't you worry about me, I'll be all right, go back to bed!" Lifting her hand, she put the paper in front of the man's eyes. "Now, if you're such a wealthy man, I'm pretty sure you know what this means! I'm under protection of the council of Ellglade, Chetwood, and if you still choose to lay your hand on me, believe me, you will suffer the consequences. And trust me, they will find out!"

She could have wept with relief when the man slowly released his grip around her collar, actually appearing to read the text on the paper. Once again, he laughed mockingly at her, but this time, there was evidently a degree of insecurity behind the laughter. Finally turning his gaze from Tari, his eyes fell on Frodo, who was now standing by the bed, supporting himself with one hand resting on the edge of it; the other one holding his now unsheathed sword. His eyes were burning with rage. "You heard what she said. Get out. Now!"

The man laughed again. "A *halfling*?! And a rather poor excuse for a one at that, I see..."

"Get out," Tari repeated.

"You heard her!" Frodo said, and Tari gave the hobbit a pleading look... the hand that held the sword was swaying a little--he had better lie down again, and that soon.

"All right, all right..." the man said, lifting his hands and starting to back off. "I'll go, and leave ye two alone..."

As soon as he had backed out into the hallway, Tari slammed the door shut, locking it from inside. She could hear the man laughing once again. "Oh, dear me... a halfling!" Then everything was silent.

Tari turned around, hurrying toward the bed. Frodo had put the sword back into its hilt now, letting it sink to the floor. He looked unsteady and didn't object when Tari swept him up, once again helping him to lie down on the bed. "Oh Frodo," she said, fighting hard against the tears, "you shouldn't have interfered... I'm so... I'm so sorry... I should have been more careful... but it's never been *this* bad before... are you all right?"

Suddenly struggling to sit up again, Frodos eyes met hers, and they were still burning with rage. "No! I'm *not* all right, I'm furious! No one should be treating you like that! Not even the most loathsome creatures of Middle-earth deserve to be spoken to in that manner! And you... after all youve done..."

"But it's all right now, Frodo... he wont disturb us again... try to relax now..."

"It's not all right until that man has been thrown out from this inn, and if you don't pull that string and call for Butterbur to see to it right now, I'll call for him myself. There is no way I will allow anyone to treat you that way!"

Carefully Frodo lifted his arms to embrace her, and Tari put her arms around him, gently rubbing his back, feeling his hands rubbing hers. "Thank you..." she whispered. "I'll see to it, I promise... as soon as Nob comes back, I'll let him know... but dont you worry about that now... just try to relax ..."

A few moments later, a loud knock was heard on the door, and they both winced.

"Who's there?!" Tari shouted, feeling her heart beating hard.

"It's just us, miss," she heard Nob's voice from outside. "Me and Mr. Brandybuck... are you all right, miss? We heard some kind of commotion."

Tari opened the door for them, and before she had even opened her mouth, Frodo told them the whole story. Nob visibly paled, and promising to notify his master at once, he hurried away down the hall. Merry clenched his fists in wrath, speaking in the same manner that Frodo just had.

"All right," Tari said, once again managing to suppress her feelings. "What has happened has happened... and we can't change that, but it won't happen again, and we have far more important matters to tend to now."

Merry nodded. "You're right. I was just going to tell you that your bath is ready now, Frodo..."

"Thank you," Frodo said. To Taris concern, his voice sounded much weaker than it had a few moments ago.

"I'll help you there, then," she said, preparing to lift him, but suddenly paling, he rose a hand to prevent her.

"Frodo! What's the matter?" she nearly shouted when her small charge curled up, clutching his stomach, his eyes tightly shut.

"It- it will pass..." Frodo gasped. "It- it's j-just a cramp... It will b-be over in a m-moment..."

Tari put her hand on his sweaty brow... and thankfully, just a few moments later, she felt him relax again. "There now..." she soothed. "Now, how about that bath?"

Frodo nodded weakly in response and let her lift him, resting his head against her chest as they started walking down the hall. "Don't blame yourself for this, Tari," he whispered. "I felt it coming already when I woke... perhaps I shouldn't have eaten that broth..." He paused a moment, swallowing hard before continuing. "Youve been wonderful to me... though I don't deserve it at all..."

Tari had no chance to reply, since they now had reached the hobbits room. She couldn't help but smile as they entered... this room must be one of the most cosy rooms she had ever seen. A bright, warm fire was burning on the hearth, and along the longest wall there were four hobbit beds with fluffy pillows and thick covers. In the middle of the floor, four hobbit-sized tubs were waiting; the steam rising from the water making them look very inviting. Sam was kneeling beside a fifth, smaller tub, apparently preparing the hobbits clothes for washing as well.

Pippin was sitting on a chair close to the fire, wearing nothing but a towel wrapped around his middle, obviously impatiently waiting for his bath. But as Tari entered, they both rose to greet her.

"Hullo, Frodo!" Pippin said, sounding as cheerful as ever, but Tari saw that he was frowning in concern as he continued. "How are you?"

Sam did not speak, but his eyes were asking the same question, waiting for his master to reply.

"It's not that bad," Frodo said as Tari lowered him down on one of the beds. "Im very tired though..." It looked indeed as if he had to use all his strength to keep his eyes open.

"I'll come back in a little while," Tari promised, "and then you'll sleep... under those soft, warm down quilts, and perhaps with some hot-water bottles as well, and some extra blankets if you still feel cold..."

Frodo nodded, smiling slightly and closing his eyes. But suddenly, they flung open again, and he looked at Sam. "I'm sorry, Sam..." he said apologetically, "I totally forgot to ask... how was old Bill?"

While Sam delightedly started to tell his master about his happy reunification with the pony, not leaving out a single detail, he carefully began to remove Frodos cloak and outer clothing. Tari stroked Frodo's hair and patted his shoulder lightly before she headed for the door again. Before opening it, she quietly gestured to Merry, indicating that she would like to have a word with him. "One last thing," she said in a quiet voice. "I'm afraid Frodos developing a slight fever... you better not make that bath water too hot... just warm enough so he'll feel comfortable..."

Merry nodded. "I'll see to that. And I'll come and get you in about half an hour... I guess we'll all be ready then... and he can rest here meanwhile."

"Half an hour sounds fine... Later then!"

Smiling, Tari shut the door behind her, casting a last look at her ailing hobbit charge, once again deeply moved by the affection his ever loyal servant was showing him.

***

As Tari came back to her room, she was surprised to find that Butterbur and Gandalf were waiting for her, both looking rather upset. "Miss Tari," the innkeeper said, "I am truly sorry to hear about what happened to you---never has such a thing happened in my time, what are we coming to? I've found the man who did this to you, and take my word for it, he'll never, ever set foot in this inn again!"

"Are you all right?" the wizard asked, his gray eyes full of concern and pity.

"Yes, I am perfectly all right, thank you," Tari answered, but felt unable to hold his eyes, looking down, hoping that they would leave the subject as quickly as possible. "I'm worried about Frodo though... he's still not well..."

"Your concern for the hobbit is touching, and we are all *very* grateful for your presence," the wizard said in his deep voice. "But you had better not neglect yourself."

Tari remained silent, still looking down.

"If there is anything we can do for you, miss, to compensate for this discomfort... anything at all... just name it, and we will do it for you," Butterbur promised, and Tari noticed that his brow was breaking out into a sweat. "Thank you, Mr. Butterbur," she said. "I need nothing more at present than what Nob has already promised to bring me, but if there is anything else, I promise I will let you know."

"I hope you do," Butterbur said. "Once again, let me say how terribly sorry I am..."

At the same moment Nob suddenly appeared again, carrying two buckets of water. "Well, Miss Tari..." he said, wiping his forehead, "that were the last two buckets, I think... now you'll have enough for both bath and washing... and if you need anything else, just call for me... I can come back to take out the tubs within an hour or so, if you wish..."

"Thank you Nob," Tari said, "but you've done enough already; you had better get some rest now. The tubs can wait until tomorrow."

Nob thanked her and wished her a good night before he hurried out in the hallway again.

"You have a good servant, Mr. Butterbur," Tari said, and the innkeeper smiled. "And you certainly have a way with hobbits, I'd say, Miss Tari!"

Tari had to stifle a laugh, and Gandalf chuckled. "So we have noticed..."

"Well, Miss Tari, we won't disturb you no more," Butterbur said, "But I say this once again---if there's anything we can do for you, don't hesitate to call for us! And tell Mr. Baggins that we all hope he'll be feeling better tomorrow. Good night and sleep well!"

"Yes," Gandalf filled in, "please tell him that we do, and should he grow worse, or ask for me, I will sit in the parlour with Butterbur."

Tari nodded. "Good night to you too. I'll let him know."

Closing the door behind them, Tari put her hands over her face, sighing deeply. If it had not been for the treaty...

Slowly starting to undress, she tried to wipe out the memories of the mans gleaming eyes. Why was she born a woman, and an orphan at that? As soon as she parted with this company, everything would be just as it was before... no one would care about her at all, their only concern would be if she delivered her messages in time, and she wouldnt have anyone to care for either...

She sank down into the tub, feeling the warm, soapy water against her skin, like the touch of soothing hands gently stroking her limbs. Unable to hold back any longer, she allowed her tears to run freely.

The treaty was the only thing that she would have left---the only thing that made her different from an outlaw. Without it, she would be free for anyone to rob and abuse, or kill, for that matter, if they felt like it. Yet, she was risking it all to help Frodo... and despite her healing skills, she knew she was failing miserably. She could have been more careful and observant. She could have locked the door behind her, as she usually did... and she could at least have tried to keep her voice down. No matter what Frodo said, his recent relapse had undoubtedly been provoked by his attempt to defend her from the attacker. What if his condition was worsening now, just because of the incident?

She should have known better than to get emotionally involved with anyone or anything. During her years as a messenger, she had only been severely delayed on two occasions, both due to the weather, but nevertheless, she had not been pardoned. Once, she had not even been given half the promised payment for her task, which had made her next message delivery far more difficult, since she had not been able to afford any provisions for the road, but had to live on what the forest could provide her... which always meant more detours for hunting trips and to gather berries or herbs. The second time, she had not been offered a new delivery for several weeks... which had essentially put her in the same situation. And yet, on those occasions she had not been delayed for more than a day. Now, they had already been expecting her for three days.

She had heard rumours about messengers who got their horses taken away from them as a consequence for disobedience against the council. And there was no doubt she would be in for a grave penalty this time, even though none of the messages she carried were particularly urgent; mostly concerning the exchange of goods between the villages that had business with Ellglade, for next years crop. The news she had been given about the return of the King and that better times would follow ahead would be appreciated, no doubt, but they would hardly matter in the long run.

So what would she ultimately gain from this? Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Poor Frodo would suffer for her naivete, and she was risking the only safety that ever would be offered to her as a woman in a man's world... she had to leave. First thing in the morning. Frodos cousins and servant had been taking care of him all the way to Mount Doom and back... and were perfectly able to do so even now... it was only her feelings for him that had made her believe that she actually would be able to make a difference... she must break free from this illusion. Besides, no one would expect her to stay longer than necessary... even Frodo would understand the importance of her duties.

With the decision made, she suddenly felt much better... once again able to take control over her emotions. No, there was no time for self pity now... tomorrow, she would be a messenger again, but until then, she had promised to take care of Frodo, and she couldnt neglect him. But only until then... after that she had to cut off all emotional ties to him, no matter if he was well or not.

After carefully rubbing every part of her body and washing her hair, so thoroughly that her scalp was burning, Tari finished her bath and turned her attention to the laundry. Nob had been very generous with the soap, and it was very satisfying to see the dirt escaping from the clothes. Suddenly she realised that she was once again humming softly... a simple but beautiful melancholic tune mingled with the sound of the water.

***

Just as Tari had finished the laundry and put the clothes to dry on the clotheslines (along with the quilts from the bed that also were a bit damp) and put a water pot on the stand over the fire for heating, there was another knock at the door, and Merry, his hair still wet from the bath, entered the room. Tari immediately noticed that something was bothering him. "How is Frodo?" she asked, even before greeting him.

"Well... as soon as he can get to bed, the better, I think..." Merry was frowning in concern. "I'm afraid hes getting worse... right after you left he had to use the chamber pot... and the pain appears to be returning; he couldn't even get comfortable in the bath, though he said it felt soothing when we lowered him down. He asked us to hurry... and now hes falling asleep again, thankfully... he was clutching his belly again, as he did before..."

"We had better hurry then." Tari quickly followed Merry out into the hallway, wasting no further time on conversation.

Entering the hobbits room, Tari found Frodo asleep on the bed closest to the fire, wrapped in several blankets. Sam was at his side, and Pippin sat on the closest bed, legs pulled up, his nightshirt several inches too short, exposing his furry feet. Tari noticed that Sam was keeping a basin close to the bed. "He's not feeling too well, Im afraid..." he whispered as Tari knelt down, once again checking Frodo's temperature. He felt much warmer to the touch now, though she could not yet be certain if it was due to the bath or if his fever was increasing. He whimpered softly, curling up more tightly.

"Frodo, dear..." Tari sat down on the edge of the bed, carefully easing the ailing hobbit up onto her lap, preparing to lift him. Moaning softly, she felt his body go limp again. "There now," she soothed. "We'll get you all comfortable now... so much better..."

Moving carefully, holding Frodo as still as possible, Tari made it back to her own room, the other hobbits anxiously following her. Cautiously she put Frodo down on the bed, covering him with one of the quilts and placing his head on one of the soft pillows. At once he curled up, facing the wall, a soft sigh escaping his trembling lips. The other hobbits each crept up on the bed in turns, wishing him good night, gently kissing his brow. "T-thank you..." he managed to say in a weak whisper.

Sam put a small bundle on the top of the drawer. "I brought a spare nightshirt in case Mr. Frodo needs it," he said in a quiet voice. Tari thanked him for his concern and followed the hobbits to the door. "Don't let your worry keep you from sleeping," she said. "You all need rest... and Frodo will probably feel much better tomorrow---if he does not, we will send for a healer, who perhaps can offer him some other medicines to settle his stomach."

The other hobbits nodded. Tari embraced them all, one by one, wishing them a good night and using the opportunity to pour some comfort and calm into each of them.

Closing the door again, Tari quickly returned to her ailing charge. "Frodo..." She gently stroked his damp curls. "I'm sorry, but I have to keep you from sleeping for a little while longer... how are you feeling?"

"Have been better..." Frodo whispered in reply. "But I'll manage... just need some sleep, I think... and I hope that my stomach will give up this knotting,..." He grimaced in pain, curling up more tightly.

"There now..." Tari put both her hands on his forehead, once again concentrating hard. "Do you think you can manage a few more sips of that ginger tea? Perhaps it will help a little..."

Frodo sighed, swallowing hard, but to Taris relief, he agreed to try. This time he was unable to hold the cup by himself, and she had to support him. He had not taken many sips, though, when he pushed away her hand holding the cup. "N-no more, please..." he said, pleadingly looking at her with bright eyes glassy from the fever.

"Are you feeling sick again?" Tari slowly eased him down, gently rubbing his back.

Frodo nodded slowly. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I-I'll be ill if I try to drink something more at the moment..."

"Poor dear... Yes, you'd better sleep then... I'll keep a basin here, right between us, and the chamber pot is under the bed... If you need anything, I'll be here... lying right next to you..."

Frodo nodded, and Tari rose once again. Quickly changing into her night gown, she poured the remaining water she had warmed for the ginger tea into a hot-water bottle. Carefully lifting Frodos quilt, she placed the bottle against his stomach, and he drew a deep sigh of relief, nestling it close. After tucking him in more properly and placing an extra blanket above the quilt, she rose once more to fetch one of the smaller washing cloths, pouring some cold water over it before folding it and returning to the small bundle of hobbit. Stroking away his damp curls, she placed the compress on his forehead. "There now... much better, isn't it? Do you think you can sleep now?"

Frodo nodded. "Thank you..." he managed in a weak whisper.

Tari took her own quilt from the clothesline, and after putting another few logs on the fire, she sank down on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. She reached out for the lamp on the bedside table and started to turn it down... but was interrupted by a sudden whimper from Frodo. "Tari... please..."

"What is it?" Tari asked in alarm.

"Could you please... leave it?" Frodo pleaded, his voice trailing off.

"Naturally..."

Turning up the light again, her heart burning with pity, she leaned over to Frodos side of the bed, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead right under the compress and tucking him in more tightly, rubbing his back through the blankets. Putting her hands on his cheek, she used all her force available as she tried to ease his pain.

As soon as his breathing slowed, indicating that he was asleep, she withdrew her hands and returned to her own pillow. At first she had planned to stay awake and watch him... but as she lay down, she realised how exhausted she felt---there was no way she would be able to stay awake...

Drawing in the wonderful scents of a warm, clean bed and listening to Frodos sleeping breaths, she felt the world fading around her, and despite everything that had happened, turning into a serene dream, far from all the troubles of the waking world.


To be continued....