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First published in Marigold's Challenge 16 Title: Heat Heat It was hot; the sort of heat that withered growing things and caused the waters to dry up, the kind of heat that baked bones, burnt skin, and made one shiver all at once. Frodo despaired, yet he crawled forward, the sun a fiery torment, ever before him, sometimes resembling a flaming wheel, turning before his eyes until his head spun. ‘Water,’ he whispered through lips so dry and cracked he could scarcely form the words. He felt himself lifted, turned over, a cup held to his lips. ‘Drink, lad,’ whispered Bilbo’s worried-loving tone, ‘the fever ought to break soon.’ |
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