There was a hesitant knock on the door, and a whispered, “Mr. Frodo?”

“Hmm? Yes, Sam?” Frodo asked, turning his head slightly.

Sam poked his head into the room. “Mr. Gandalf’s just arrived, sir. Might I send him in, or will you see him? I’ll wait with Mr. Pippin here, if you want.”

Frodo massaged his temples for a moment and glanced at his cousin, who appeared to be dozing at the moment. “Thank you, Sam. Let me know if he grows worse.”

“Very good, sir,” Sam replied, taking Frodo’s seat beside the bed. Standing by the door, Frodo watched for a moment as Sam checked Pippin’s fever, frowned, and began to bathe the younger hobbit’s face and neck with cool cloths.

Wearily, Frodo went to the kitchen, where he found Gandalf sitting before a cold supper that Sam had undoubtedly prepared. The wizard glanced up when Frodo entered the room, but aside from a kind smile he made no move to speak.

“Hullo, Gandalf,” Frodo said, sinking into a chair with a sigh.

“I suppose I have arrived at a bad time,” Gandalf replied. “What is this I hear of young Peregrin? Samwise seems to think he is at death’s door.”

“Sam worries too much,” Frodo responded, pouring tea for Gandalf and himself. “Pippin is ill, but it is not too serious. His fever has been up and down for the past two days, but the healer says it is nothing more than a bad cough and a slight chest cold, and that he will be better by the end of the week.” He sighed tiredly, “We were lucky to catch it early. I don’t think Pippin will be very sick this time.”

Gandalf glanced at Frodo sharply. “Is he often ill?”

“It seems that way. Either that, or I have grown so old that I don't remember how often young ones come down with something.” Frodo yawned sleepily and propped up his chin with his hand.

Gandalf nodded and began to fill his pipe. “Tell me Frodo, are you well? I am afraid I have seen you better.”

Frodo laughed and began to prepare some tea with extra honey for Pippin. “I am just tired, I suppose. Sam has been a wonderful help as usual, but I’m afraid I am not used to caring for sick hobbit-lads on my own. I do not envy Pippin’s parents at all.” With another sigh, he stood and said, “I should get back to Pippin now. It is raining again, and I want to send Sam home before the storm grows worse. But please stay – I’ll return as soon as I settle Pippin for the night.”

When he returned to his cousin’s room, Pippin was awake. After sending a reluctant Sam on his way home, Frodo asked his cousin how he was feeling.

“Good. Better.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth Pippin began to cough violently, his small body trembling under the force of his coughing.  Frodo pulled his cousin into a sitting position and rubbed his back soothingly until the fit passed and Pippin flopped limply against the pillows, weak and exhausted.

“This calls for some more tonic,” Frodo remarked, reaching for the bottle.

Pippin made a face.

“It is helping you,” Frodo reminded him as he measured out a spoonful. “You’re breathing a little easier.”

With a sigh, Pippin swallowed the hateful tonic and gratefully accepted the tea Frodo gave him next to wash away the bitter taste.

“Are you hungry?” Frodo asked. “Sam made some chicken soup this afternoon.”

“Maybe later,” Pippin whispered.

“You should try to have the broth, at least,” Frodo persisted.

 Pippin shook his head. “Is Gandalf really here? I thought I heard Sam say so before.”

“Yes, he is,” Frodo replied, tucking the blankets closer around his cousin.

“I haven’t seen him since Cousin Bilbo’s party so long ago.” Pippin smiled sleepily, thinking of fireworks and cake. “Where has he been?”

“Oh, you know Gandalf. He wanders in and out of the Shire when he has the time. He will most likely leave by the morning.”

“May I see him?” Pippin coughed again, not as badly as before, but enough for his stomach to hurt. “Please?”

“Maybe later,” Frodo said. “But for now, get some rest.”

“I don’t want to,” Pippin whispered, even though his eyes were slipping shut.

“Ssh,” Frodo replied. “Time for sleep.” He watched as Pippin began to doze lightly and then leaned back in his chair. It was going to be another long night.