AVALANCHE

Chapter 9 --- The Calm Before the Storm

"Pippin." Pippin pulled the fur cloak up over his head. Aragorn pulled it down for a second time. "Pippin, wake up."

Pippin opened his eyes to find Aragorn sitting next to him. Wide-eyed, he sat up and looked around. Had something else happened?

"It's all right," said Aragorn softly. "Nothing's wrong. It's morning, and I need you to help me today. Frodo needs you."

Pippin's gaze flew to where Frodo lay.

"He's still asleep, but he'll be waking soon," said Aragorn. "You're the only one who can help, Pippin. Get your jacket and your cloak, and bring a blanket." Without another word he got up and walked away. If Merry was awake and listening, he made no sign.

Aragorn returned to where he had been sitting with an assortment of bags and pots in front of him. He watched out of the corner of his eye as the young hobbit pulled on his jacket and fastened his cloak, then wrapped a blanket around himself. He made sure to tuck Boromir's cloak snugly around Merry before he came to join Aragorn. Pippin stayed close to the rock wall, never venturing more than a foot from it except when he had to veer around Bill.

Aragorn had deliberately seated himself a dozen feet out from the wall. It took Pippin nearly a minute to reach him, and when he sat down he was breathing hard.

The Ranger had been thinking long and hard about Pippin. Boromir's careful handling yesterday had no doubt kept the youngster from hysterics and more serious emotional trauma, but there was little time to spare to ease Pippin back from the frightened, hesitant state into which he had retreated. As soon as Frodo was well enough to be moved, either by being carried or perhaps riding on Bill, they had to press on. Pippin's world had tumbled out of his control. Something had to be done, and Aragorn knew that one way to get someone to feel calm and in control was to focus them on someone else -- someone who needed them.

"Pippin, do you remember lunchtime yesterday?"

The young hobbit nodded.

"That's the last time Frodo had anything to eat. He's going to be in a lot of pain when he awakes and won't feel like eating, but he has to. We have to get him to eat somehow or he won't have the energy to stay warm and get better."

Aragorn could see that Pippin was dismayed by how long it had been since Frodo had eaten anything. It had probably never occurred to him that a hobbit could even live a whole day without food.

"Whatever we give him today has to be very simple, very easy to swallow. Chewing anything hard may make his headache worse. I've been soaking in water some of these dried apples and pears and other fruits. Now that the fruit is nice and soft, it has to be torn up into little bits, as tiny as possible." Aragorn took Pippin's hands and held his gaze. "You have to be my helper today, Pippin, because Frodo asked about you so many times last night. He needs to see you, to know that you're not injured. He has a lot of healing to do, and maybe we can take this one worry away from him. All right?"

Pippin nodded again, then looked anxiously up at the sky and back to Aragorn.

"Yes," said Aragorn, "we're in for some snow." He squeezed the hobbit's hands reassuringly. "No one will be taking any more tumbles, no matter how much snow we get." He got to his feet and Pippin reached for one of the softened apple slices.

"Oh, and Pippin?" Pippin looked up to see Aragorn smiling at him. "Don't forget to leave some fruit for Frodo." Pippin bent his head and began his task, but not before Aragorn saw him smile. The Ranger looked up to see Boromir, who was talking with Gimli a short distance away, give him an approving nod.

wandering... lost... "S. . Sam..."

"Easy now, Mr. Frodo."

With relief, Frodo heard Sam's voice through the fog. His head hurt... his wrist... "Sam?"

"I'm right here, just lie still. Strider, he's waking up. Do you think..."

The fog wanted to keep him. Frodo started to drift back into the darkness, but a familiar voice was urging him to wake, to open his eyes. The fog cleared. Someone was touching his face, saying his name. With an effort, Frodo opened his eyes.

"That's it," said Aragorn with a smile. "That's it, stay with us." He waited until Frodo's eyes slowly focused on him. "Can you see me clearly?"

Aragorn's face wasn't as blurred as Legolas's had been, but it was still hazy, wavering. "It's... better... than it was."

"Good. Do you still feel sick?"

"A little bit." Frodo tried to look around without moving his head. "Is it morning? The sun isn't---"

"We're in for a bit of bad weather, I'm afraid." Aragorn picked up a water bottle and slid his hand behind Frodo's head. "And you're going to spend the day right here, getting as much rest as you can." He supported Frodo's head and shoulders while the hobbit drank thirstily, then lowered him back down.

"Aragorn, I have to..." Frodo stirred restlessly. "I need to get up."

Aragorn showed him an empty cup that he had brought over. "Whatever you need to do, Frodo, you're doing right here. Sam, would you leave us alone for a minute?"

Frodo gasped as Sam smiled and walked away, then he stared at Aragorn in disbelief. "I, I can't..."

"Yes, you can." Aragorn breathed on his hands to warm them, then reached under the blankets and gently pushed Frodo's breeches down. It took a little maneuvering to position the cup, and when Aragorn's hand slid under his bottom to lift it slightly, Frodo truly thought he would die of embarrassment.

"Relax," said Aragorn softly. "Just relax, Frodo. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. I've been a healer for a long time." His calm voice finally helped Frodo relax enough to relieve himself into the cup. Aragorn set it aside and reached back under the blankets to pull Frodo's breeches back up. Frodo breathed a sigh of relief. Aragorn left to empty the cup and soon returned.

"Frodo," said Aragorn, as he sat back down. "You need to drink as much water as possible today. So when you need the cup again, just tell me. Yes?"

"Yes," Frodo sighed. "I don't like being so helpless."

"I know, but it won't be for long."

"Aragorn, we can't stay here. You know we can't. We have to keep going."

Aragorn looked into the Ring-bearer's worried eyes. "We will, Frodo. But not just now." He bent over Frodo and carefully examined the swelling on his head. Frodo winced at the gentle touch.

"The swelling's down a little, but I know it still hurts. You were thrown against that boulder rather hard."

"If I hadn't..." Frodo's voice trailed off. If not for that boulder, he thought, Pip and I would both be dead.

"Yes," agreed Aragorn quietly. "How does your headache compare to yesterday?"

"I'm not sure," said Frodo, closing his eyes for a moment. "My whole head throbs so." He touched his left hand very carefully with his right, feeling the bandages. "My wrist hurts a lot. And I feel so weak, still terribly dizzy."

Aragorn nodded. He folded the blankets aside and eased Frodo's wrist out of the sling. "Some of that weakness is because you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. I have just the thing for you."

"Oh," groaned Frodo, "I'm not sure I can..."

Aragorn delicately ran his fingers along Frodo's left arm and hand, avoiding the area of the broken bone for the moment. He wanted to check the swelling and adjust the wrappings, but decided to wait until Frodo had fallen back to sleep. He readjusted the sling and smiled, tucking the blankets back over Frodo.

"I know you don't feel hungry, but I want you to try what my helper prepared for you." Aragorn motioned to someone out of Frodo's sight and Pippin came over, carefully holding a cup in his hand.

"Pip!" Frodo held out his right hand and Pippin sat, put the cup down, then grabbed Frodo's hand with both of his and beamed at him.

"Oh Pip, I'm so glad you're all right," said Frodo. Then he frowned. Could Pippin still not be talking? "Everything's all right, Pip," he murmured. "Everything's all right."

"Here now, let's try this." Aragorn raised Frodo slightly and held the cup to his lips. Frodo smelled apples... fruit.

"Try to drink as much as you can. Pippin put tiny bits of soft fruit in the water which should give you some nourishment. Later on, we'll try something more substantial."

Frodo drank slowly, finding the soft fruit easy to swallow. He was halfway through when an intense wave of dizziness made him close his eyes.

"No more," he whispered. Aragorn settled Frodo back down, glad he had managed even that much of the fruit mixture.

Frodo lay with his eyes closed, exhausted by the slight effort. Everything was spinning. As if from a distance he heard Aragorn's voice. "... hear me, little one?" He wanted to answer, but thick tendrils of fog were wrapping around him once again. He felt fingers pressed to his right wrist, heard Aragorn talking quietly to someone. "...sleep again...have to expect..." He couldn't open his eyes... couldn't move... The fog held him in a heavy, relentless embrace, drawing him down deeper and deeper, until everything faded away and he knew no more.

Aragorn laid his hand on Frodo's brow. There was still a slight fever, but nothing alarming as long as they didn't let him get chilled.

"Pippin, every time he wakes we need to---" A sudden gust of cold air blew past them, stirring Frodo's curls, and Aragorn felt a shiver run through Frodo's body. Something cold and wet landed on his hand. Even as he looked up, the wind started to blow harder and snow began to swirl about them. The storm had begun.

** TBC **