Aragorn and Arwen, who with Faramir had been taking a tour of their new residence, dashed into the hall when they heard Elara's frantic cry and were horrified to see Merry dragging his unconscious cousin out of the smoked filled kitchen. Arwen opened the windows in the kitchen while Aragorn pulled Frodo away from the entrance and checked his breathing and pulse. Merry tried to rush to Frodo's side, but Faramir held him back.

“Let the King take care of Frodo,” he told him, “and while he does, maybe you could tell us what happened?”

“Frodo and I were making our second breakfasts,” Merry began, trying to keep his voice from quavering. “ and I got a frying pan for the other things I wanted, but the frying pan turned out to be heavier than I expected and then I... dropped it and... “ Merry's voice failed him at that point.

“The pan knocked a bag of sugar and started a fire,” Elara told them, still visibly upset herself. “It was my fault; I should have put the sugar in a safer place and I most certainly should have assisted Master Meriadoc.”

“I should have asked for your help!” Merry countered. “It was all my fault for thinking I could do it myself!”

“Nobody expects an accident,” Faramir wisely pointed out, taking advantage of Merry's distraction to check him for injuries. “And from what I can see no one was entirely at fault so please don't blame yourselves.”

Others who were gathering in the hall, concerned about the Ring-bearer's welfare, also offered reassured to Merry and Elara. Aragorn, momentarily distracted glanced at Merry, then Elara. Both were clearly shaken but apparentally unharmed. When he looked back at Frodo, however, he gasped and all colour drained from his face. He said nothing out loud, but everyone in the hall knew at once what happened. Frodo had stopped breathing!

Aragorn forcing himself to stay calm, clapped his mouth over Frodo's and gave him two slow breaths. The sense of dread in atmosphere was intense, and growing heavier every second.

Time seemed to stand still for the next few heartbeats, but Frodo sputtered and began to cough when Aragorn gave him a third breath. There was collective sigh of relief from everyone in the hall as Aragorn turned Frodo on his side. “Frodo, it's Strider,” he said softly. ”Are you all right?”

Frodo's eyes, which had been had been wandering around unfocused, looked up
anxiously. “What happened?” he whispered, still too dazed to think clearly, but becoming aware of an increasingly painful throat.

“You breathed in some smoke it seems,” Aragorn told him, “not enough to hurt most people, but I expected your lungs may have been weakened at Mount Doom.”

Smoke! Of course, there had been a fire in kitchen! Now Frodo remembered. “Where's Merry?” he cried. “Is he all right? And what happened to Elara?”

“Right over here, Frodo,” Merry called. “Don't worry, we're both all right. You put the fire out before anything happened to me and Elara was already out.” Frodo nodded; he seemed to remember seeing Elara rush out as the pan caught fire.

Aragorn picked Frodo up and carried him over to a table that had been brought out at Arwen's direction. “Please, take care of Merry and Elara first,” Frodo objected.

“Don't argue with the King,” Merry admonished as Aragorn nodded firmly in agreement. Any further protest on Frodo's part was cut off by an uncontrollable urge to cough.

Aragorn laid Frodo carefully on the table while Arwen supported his back and shoulders, making sure Frodo could see Merry and Elara and they could see him. “No burns or other injuries that I can see,” Aragorn said after he loosened Frodo's clothes and examined him. “Are you hurting anywhere? ” Frodo nodded and placed his hand on his neck. His throat now felt like it was on fire, and he feared that speaking would make it worse.

“Your throat?” Aragorn inquired. Frodo nodded again. “All right, let me look at it.” Frodo opened his mouth obediently, feeling too sick to even consider objecting. After a careful visual inspection, Aragorn gently felt around the side Frodo's neck and concluded, "No damage as far I can tell, but it looks painful.

Frodo nodded again, his eyes watering slightly.Aragorn smiled sympathetically. “It should feel better in a day or two,” he said reassuringly and bent his head down to Frodo's chest. “Take a deep breath.” Frodo tried to, but it only made him cough again.

Aragorn's alarm was less apparent this time, but it was there nevertheless as he realized Frodo's condition might be more serious than he had initially thought. While Arwen comforted Frodo to the best her abilities, Aragorn went to confirm that Merry and Elara were all right physically and emotionally. When satisfied on that account, he spoke briefly to the bystanders who on his instructions, took off in two different directions looking relieved to be able to do something. Elara could have been excused from these responsibilities, having been through what she did, but she would have none of that. She had to spend her time doing something until it was known whether Ring-bearer would be all right.

Aragorn let Merry and Faramir talk to Frodo for a minute. Frodo seemed cheered a bit by this, but resisted when Aragorn picked him up again. “It's all right, Frodo. You're going to come with me now,” Aragorn told him soothingly, “and you, Lord Faramir, are going to take my place at the council meeting this afternoon using the royal seal”. Faramir looked up in alarm. “While Queen Arwen tends to Master Meriadoc,” he added with a smile.

“As you wish, my King,” Faramir replied, visibly relieved as Arwen took his place by Merry's side.

Arwen led Merry into a more comfortable room to recover from his shock. Faramir bowed and went back through the doors they had come in, and Aragorn and Frodo disappeared into a utility tunnel. It was going to be a long afternoon for all concerned.