FIC: "Into the East" (PG, 2/?) by Febobe
Sep. 7th, 2011 09:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
febobeThank you all so very much for the lovely comments, and a special thanks to Mewsie for the link! :D Here is the next chapter of "Into the East".... :)
Cheers,
Febobe :)
Title: Into the East
Author: Febobe (Frodo Baggins of Bag End)
Rating/Warnings: PG (graphic food descriptions, some occasionally graphic medical angst - NO CANON CHARACTER DEATH. I promise! It may seem at first that I'm headed that direction, but I absolutely guarantee, NO canon characters will be killed off in this fic!)
Summary: After the Quest, Frodo comes down with a serious illness, and journeys to Harad in search of better health.
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Elrond, Eowyn, Faramir, Merry, Pippin, an OC named Kalil (partly in tribute to Claudia's own Khalil), other supporting OCs, appearances by Aragorn and possibly Arwen. Others TBA, if any.
Disclaimer: I do not own and have not created any of J.R.R. Tolkien's work, neither characters nor world nor any of his concepts. I'm just playing in the sandbox, with no ill intent. Original characters, including (but not limited to) Kalil are my own creation, and I would appreciate it if they weren't used without asking. (Unlike Tolkien, I'm not dead!) This fic meets FrodoHealers standards and is free from profanity, sex, and slash.
Notes: Sam lovers, I think this is a fic you'll enjoy, as it strongly features his voice and viewpoint. Frodo lovers, this is definitely a fic you'll enjoy, especially if you're an old-school FrodoHealers fan. Faramir and Eowyn, Merry and Pippin will all have significant roles to play throughout this fic, though it takes a few chapters to get there. Also, please note that I have chosen Indian food for the predominant culinary culture of Harad. I realize that it may well be closer to Middle Eastern cookery, but I wanted to give it a distinctive tie and recognizable flavor, and I chose Indian. No ill will intended if you prefer a different interpretation; just know that this is my interpretation only and I realize it isn't the only potential take on Haradraic food out there.
CHAPTER TWO
"Can you cough for me?"
I didn't know as Lord Elrond could have asked a stranger question, but Mr. Frodo didn't even buck, he was feeling that poorly, just leaned forward like Lord Elrond wanted, pressing a pocket-handkerchief to his mouth while he coughed and coughed, his poor shoulders fair shaking. Lord Elrond looked worried if you asked me, and he was so careful rubbing Mr. Frodo's back after he listened that I was more worried, if that was possible. After the fit passed on, he helped Mr. Frodo lie back down in his nice clean bed and tucked him up all gentle and easy, and pushed his curls back from where they were sticking to his brow.
And then he looked at me, and motioned me closer.
"Frodo, I will not hide the truth from you," he said, looking at Mr. Frodo, "but I do not wish you to fret. Let Sam and I and the others look after your needs. You have what is called 'consumption' - have you heard of it at all?"
Consumption! Why, who hadn't? We called it that back in Hobbiton, too, and not real common, but a few times a year we'd hear of somebody being taken off by it, or bad sick with it, and of course everybody shook their heads and sighed and sent over big pots o'soup or dishes cooked up to fatten the person up, but it never worked, and they usually passed on within a year or so.
Not Mr. Frodo.
Not after all he went through.
But Lord Elrond didn't look like he was teasing, nor was he the sort to joke about much, and sure not this kind of thing.
"Yes," Frodo said at last (and of course he did, being from Hobbiton so many years himself), "I remember that from the Shire. But I don't know a great deal about it, except that it took one of my aunts, and a neighbor across the way."
"Yes. It is a very grave sickness." Elrond slipped one hand around Frodo's, like he wanted to comfort him, and I was glad. "But we have caught it not very long after you started to show symptoms, which is a good thing, and we have means available to us that are not always available in the Shire...including a better climate. Minas Tirith is good, being a southern clime, though later we may find something even more dry and warm, if you continue to be unwell. But for now my orders are that you rest in bed - you may get up and sit in a chair for an hour or two every day, and if the weather is fine you may let someone carry you to the garden, bundled up, to enjoy the sunshine. And you must eat for us...I know you do not likely feel very much like eating, but let Sam and the others feed you up with fattening foods, and good nourishing soups...and if there is anything you have a particular taste for, do tell us, so that we may fetch it for you. You must take plenty of nourishment and liquids, and I shall make up some medicines for you - which I will try to sweeten as much as possible whenever I can - to help the cough and bring your fever down a little, perhaps something to improve your appetite. But the rest and nourishment are of vital importance. Do both of you understand?"
We both nodded.
Lord Elrond stood up. "Frodo, try to rest. Sam, will you come with me?"
Mr. Frodo closed his eyes and curled up, and I trotted right along out the door with Lord Elrond, who pulled me aside in the hall just a little ways from Mr. Frodo's room.
"I do not wish to alarm Frodo, but do you understand the severity of his illness?"
I gave a nod. "He might die."
"Yes. If he does not recover, he will die, and I believe the best we can hope for is a partial recovery...he will likely never be as strong as he once was. We must protect and care for him."
"O'course, sir."
Lord Elrond leaned close. "Will you help me in this? I have not your skill at coaxing him to eat, and if he will not take sufficient food, there is no hope left. May I count on you to keep me informed, and to try all means necessary to get him to eat? Elessar and I will gladly place the kitchens and their staff at your disposal."
Well, now, that was something I knew how to do. "You know you can, sir. I'll get food down him, or my name ain't Samwise Gamgee."
"Thank you. I am most grateful for you, Master Gamgee." Lord Elrond kind of smiled then, but it was a sad smile. "I will return shortly to take your orders for Frodo's breakfast. But now I must go and tell Elessar what is the matter with Frodo, and we must arrange for one of us to sit with him, for the whole burden should not fall upon your shoulders. You too must rest and eat."
"I don't mind. I can manage fine."
"Nay, Sam...'tis not healthful for you to take it on alone. Let us help you."
"Only if you promise to have someone come wherever I am and get me if he takes a bad turn or wants me there."
"I promise." He straightened up then, and turned. "Thank you, my friend."
And then he was gone.
Cheers,
Febobe :)
Title: Into the East
Author: Febobe (Frodo Baggins of Bag End)
Rating/Warnings: PG (graphic food descriptions, some occasionally graphic medical angst - NO CANON CHARACTER DEATH. I promise! It may seem at first that I'm headed that direction, but I absolutely guarantee, NO canon characters will be killed off in this fic!)
Summary: After the Quest, Frodo comes down with a serious illness, and journeys to Harad in search of better health.
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Elrond, Eowyn, Faramir, Merry, Pippin, an OC named Kalil (partly in tribute to Claudia's own Khalil), other supporting OCs, appearances by Aragorn and possibly Arwen. Others TBA, if any.
Disclaimer: I do not own and have not created any of J.R.R. Tolkien's work, neither characters nor world nor any of his concepts. I'm just playing in the sandbox, with no ill intent. Original characters, including (but not limited to) Kalil are my own creation, and I would appreciate it if they weren't used without asking. (Unlike Tolkien, I'm not dead!) This fic meets FrodoHealers standards and is free from profanity, sex, and slash.
Notes: Sam lovers, I think this is a fic you'll enjoy, as it strongly features his voice and viewpoint. Frodo lovers, this is definitely a fic you'll enjoy, especially if you're an old-school FrodoHealers fan. Faramir and Eowyn, Merry and Pippin will all have significant roles to play throughout this fic, though it takes a few chapters to get there. Also, please note that I have chosen Indian food for the predominant culinary culture of Harad. I realize that it may well be closer to Middle Eastern cookery, but I wanted to give it a distinctive tie and recognizable flavor, and I chose Indian. No ill will intended if you prefer a different interpretation; just know that this is my interpretation only and I realize it isn't the only potential take on Haradraic food out there.
CHAPTER TWO
"Can you cough for me?"
I didn't know as Lord Elrond could have asked a stranger question, but Mr. Frodo didn't even buck, he was feeling that poorly, just leaned forward like Lord Elrond wanted, pressing a pocket-handkerchief to his mouth while he coughed and coughed, his poor shoulders fair shaking. Lord Elrond looked worried if you asked me, and he was so careful rubbing Mr. Frodo's back after he listened that I was more worried, if that was possible. After the fit passed on, he helped Mr. Frodo lie back down in his nice clean bed and tucked him up all gentle and easy, and pushed his curls back from where they were sticking to his brow.
And then he looked at me, and motioned me closer.
"Frodo, I will not hide the truth from you," he said, looking at Mr. Frodo, "but I do not wish you to fret. Let Sam and I and the others look after your needs. You have what is called 'consumption' - have you heard of it at all?"
Consumption! Why, who hadn't? We called it that back in Hobbiton, too, and not real common, but a few times a year we'd hear of somebody being taken off by it, or bad sick with it, and of course everybody shook their heads and sighed and sent over big pots o'soup or dishes cooked up to fatten the person up, but it never worked, and they usually passed on within a year or so.
Not Mr. Frodo.
Not after all he went through.
But Lord Elrond didn't look like he was teasing, nor was he the sort to joke about much, and sure not this kind of thing.
"Yes," Frodo said at last (and of course he did, being from Hobbiton so many years himself), "I remember that from the Shire. But I don't know a great deal about it, except that it took one of my aunts, and a neighbor across the way."
"Yes. It is a very grave sickness." Elrond slipped one hand around Frodo's, like he wanted to comfort him, and I was glad. "But we have caught it not very long after you started to show symptoms, which is a good thing, and we have means available to us that are not always available in the Shire...including a better climate. Minas Tirith is good, being a southern clime, though later we may find something even more dry and warm, if you continue to be unwell. But for now my orders are that you rest in bed - you may get up and sit in a chair for an hour or two every day, and if the weather is fine you may let someone carry you to the garden, bundled up, to enjoy the sunshine. And you must eat for us...I know you do not likely feel very much like eating, but let Sam and the others feed you up with fattening foods, and good nourishing soups...and if there is anything you have a particular taste for, do tell us, so that we may fetch it for you. You must take plenty of nourishment and liquids, and I shall make up some medicines for you - which I will try to sweeten as much as possible whenever I can - to help the cough and bring your fever down a little, perhaps something to improve your appetite. But the rest and nourishment are of vital importance. Do both of you understand?"
We both nodded.
Lord Elrond stood up. "Frodo, try to rest. Sam, will you come with me?"
Mr. Frodo closed his eyes and curled up, and I trotted right along out the door with Lord Elrond, who pulled me aside in the hall just a little ways from Mr. Frodo's room.
"I do not wish to alarm Frodo, but do you understand the severity of his illness?"
I gave a nod. "He might die."
"Yes. If he does not recover, he will die, and I believe the best we can hope for is a partial recovery...he will likely never be as strong as he once was. We must protect and care for him."
"O'course, sir."
Lord Elrond leaned close. "Will you help me in this? I have not your skill at coaxing him to eat, and if he will not take sufficient food, there is no hope left. May I count on you to keep me informed, and to try all means necessary to get him to eat? Elessar and I will gladly place the kitchens and their staff at your disposal."
Well, now, that was something I knew how to do. "You know you can, sir. I'll get food down him, or my name ain't Samwise Gamgee."
"Thank you. I am most grateful for you, Master Gamgee." Lord Elrond kind of smiled then, but it was a sad smile. "I will return shortly to take your orders for Frodo's breakfast. But now I must go and tell Elessar what is the matter with Frodo, and we must arrange for one of us to sit with him, for the whole burden should not fall upon your shoulders. You too must rest and eat."
"I don't mind. I can manage fine."
"Nay, Sam...'tis not healthful for you to take it on alone. Let us help you."
"Only if you promise to have someone come wherever I am and get me if he takes a bad turn or wants me there."
"I promise." He straightened up then, and turned. "Thank you, my friend."
And then he was gone.
