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febobeA snippet of febobefic. . .yes, inspired by present conditions, but hey. ;)
Enjoy! :)
Special credit to frodobaggins252 for planting the "germ" of this story in my brain!
-Febobe ;)
"The Steward, Lord Faramir, says you can help me."
The young healer studied his charge anxiously. Could this really be? Hobbits were the stuff of fairy-tales, children's stories! Yet there were now four in Minas Tirith, and of all the four, it was the Ringbearer himself who had been taken ill, causing the Steward to call for a healer.
Lomendil knew he was in deep water. Usually King Elessar tended the Ringbearer personally. But he had gone to Ithilien with the Steward's men to see matters settled there. He could not return for at least a few days. And the Ringbearer had taken a fever; Lord Faramir said he was quite miserable. And his stomach was unsettled, which might well prove dangerous in one so weakened in body.
But at least the problem was fairly obvious.
"My lord - "
"Frodo, please. Just Frodo will do."
The young healer bowed and continued. "Frodo, I believe you have an illness common among our children. Those new to the city are often seized with it during outbreaks, if they have not caught it before."
Frodo blinked, curiousity in his fevered blue eyes.
"It is called slap-cheek, for the appearance given to the face. Have a look." Taking up the small mirror on the bedside table, he held it up for his patient, who stared into the mirror, apparently startled by the apple-red cheeks that greeted him.
"Is it serious?"
"Rarely. Most often it is uncomfortable, but limited, requiring only proper nursing." Thank heavens. Lomendil had been terrified the Ringbearer would be gravely ill, and the sight of flushed, "slapped" cheeks was a welcome relief indeed. This ailment he could treat.
He knelt by the bed, touching the small hand gently. "Frodo. . .you should recover well. I will attend you until you are better. Could you take some nourishment for me? Lord Faramir tells me you have not eaten today."
The little hobbit pulled his knees up to his chest nervously. "My stomach isn't agreeing with me."
"Still, you must take liquids, else you shall be very ill. Liquids will help make you comfortable and ease that fever. Perhaps we can even find some to settle your stomach."
At this, Frodo looked interested.
"Broth, perhaps?" Lomendil coaxed soothingly. "And some ginger tea for your upset stomach?"
Frodo nodded. "I could try."
"Good." Lomendil tucked the blankets close about him and rose. "Rest. I shall give orders for your tray."
~to be continued!~
Enjoy! :)
Special credit to frodobaggins252 for planting the "germ" of this story in my brain!
-Febobe ;)
"The Steward, Lord Faramir, says you can help me."
The young healer studied his charge anxiously. Could this really be? Hobbits were the stuff of fairy-tales, children's stories! Yet there were now four in Minas Tirith, and of all the four, it was the Ringbearer himself who had been taken ill, causing the Steward to call for a healer.
Lomendil knew he was in deep water. Usually King Elessar tended the Ringbearer personally. But he had gone to Ithilien with the Steward's men to see matters settled there. He could not return for at least a few days. And the Ringbearer had taken a fever; Lord Faramir said he was quite miserable. And his stomach was unsettled, which might well prove dangerous in one so weakened in body.
But at least the problem was fairly obvious.
"My lord - "
"Frodo, please. Just Frodo will do."
The young healer bowed and continued. "Frodo, I believe you have an illness common among our children. Those new to the city are often seized with it during outbreaks, if they have not caught it before."
Frodo blinked, curiousity in his fevered blue eyes.
"It is called slap-cheek, for the appearance given to the face. Have a look." Taking up the small mirror on the bedside table, he held it up for his patient, who stared into the mirror, apparently startled by the apple-red cheeks that greeted him.
"Is it serious?"
"Rarely. Most often it is uncomfortable, but limited, requiring only proper nursing." Thank heavens. Lomendil had been terrified the Ringbearer would be gravely ill, and the sight of flushed, "slapped" cheeks was a welcome relief indeed. This ailment he could treat.
He knelt by the bed, touching the small hand gently. "Frodo. . .you should recover well. I will attend you until you are better. Could you take some nourishment for me? Lord Faramir tells me you have not eaten today."
The little hobbit pulled his knees up to his chest nervously. "My stomach isn't agreeing with me."
"Still, you must take liquids, else you shall be very ill. Liquids will help make you comfortable and ease that fever. Perhaps we can even find some to settle your stomach."
At this, Frodo looked interested.
"Broth, perhaps?" Lomendil coaxed soothingly. "And some ginger tea for your upset stomach?"
Frodo nodded. "I could try."
"Good." Lomendil tucked the blankets close about him and rose. "Rest. I shall give orders for your tray."
~to be continued!~
