For Periantari, who wanted Frodo taking care of Sam.

The Benefits of Pepper

Summer 1402 SR

Sam is 22 and Frodo is 33

Frodo was reading on his garden bench when he heard the yelp. Setting the book quickly aside, he followed the source of the yelp, which he would describe more as a strangled scream if pushed to it, around the smial to the shed where Sam had been putting away his tools for the day. Whatever Frodo expected to see, it was not Sam cradling his left hand to his chest, a rag held there tight and growing redder by the second. A thin trail of blood escaped the rag to run down Sam’s arm. The offending garden shears lay on the floor where they had landed, a tell-tale drop of red on its sharp blade.

Frodo didn’t waste time asking what happened. He took Sam by the arm, hauled him inside to the kitchen and sat him at the table, ignoring the lad’s protests. “Daisy can see to it and Gaffer’ll be wondering why I’m late.”

Frodo spared a quick glance outside. The sun was at four o’clock and teatime. Sam had promised to be home early to meet Daisy’s suitor. He must have been rushing and not taking proper care of his tools when the accident happened.

“The Gaffer would rather have you in one piece. Five minutes won’t hurt none,” Frodo assured. 

He moved as he talked, grabbing some clean cloths, a cup of water and the jar of crushed black pepper. He lay a rag beneath Sam’s injured hand, dipped a cloth in the water and wiped clean the wound. He was relieved to see the damage had looked worse than it actually was. The cut was not deep enough to require stitches, though he would have run down to Miss Camellia’s if necessary. 

Unfortunately, Sam realized this at the same time Frodo did. He tried to stand up. “Really, Mr. Frodo, it’s not all that bad. I’ve had worse trimming the brambles.” 

Frodo placed a firm hand on Sam’s shoulder and pushed him back into his seat. He then poured a generous amount of pepper over Sam’s cut and pressed another cloth to it. “Hold this here.”

Sam complied and didn’t offer further protest as Frodo went into the pantry, emerging a few moments later with a piece of carrot cake. He dug a fork out of the drawer and set the cake in front of Sam. “Eat up. It’ll fortify you.” He then took over to tending Sam’s wound so Sam could eat. 

Frodo held the cloth gently over Sam’s cut, much more gently than Sam himself had been doing. Frodo’s hands were warm, a reassuring weight over the wound. Seeing Frodo’s calm and business-like demeanor, Sam allowed himself to relax and concentrate on his cake. And he did feel much better for having eaten, he had to admit.

Sam finished his cake and watched curiously as Frodo pulled back the cloth and wiped away the excess pepper. “Well, I’ll be!” he exclaimed. “It stopped the bleeding good, and it didn’t even burn none.”

Frodo grinned. “I read about this in the herbal but haven’t had opportunity to use it. Pepper cleans the wound so it doesn’t get infected and it coagulates the blood to stop it from flowing. The herbal promised the pepper wouldn’t burn, but I was worried about that. You don’t mind that I’ve used you as a test subject?”

“Not at all, sir. That’s a neat trick!”

Frodo took another cloth and wrapped this around Sam’s hand, patting it when he was done. “There you are then, lad. Keep this on for a day or so, especially while digging in the dirt. If it hurts you too much tomorrow, you are to stay home. I don’t want to catch you wincing and moaning in the flowerbeds. And do take care you don’t do this again. You should never rush with sharp tools in hand.”

“Yes, sir,” Sam said.

“Get on home then. I’ll clean up here and finish putting your tools away,” Frodo said. Seeing the protest about to spill out of Sam’s mouth, Frodo put on his stern Master face and pointed to the front door. “Go on.”

Sam didn’t dare argue then. He thanked Frodo sheepishly and apologized profusely, though what he was apologizing for Frodo didn’t even want to guess, and hurried out the door. 

Only then did Frodo sink back in his chair with a deep sigh, his heart finally allowed to pound and rush as relief flowed over him. He sat there for many minutes until he could trust himself to stand, then he went to the shed to put away Sam’s tools.

GF 12/19/11