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febobeThis part ended up being about half the length of Part I, and I'd rather have had them about equally matched, but Serinde and Frodo were having none of that. . . . Sorry for the mismatch!!!!
*snugs*
Disclaimer for Readers: Serinde is (still) the OC property/creation of SurgicalSteel. If you like her, applaud Surg. If you think she's badly drawn, blame my handling of a great character.
The little hobbit slept.
Watching him, Serinde was reminded of her children when they were small, and had to resist the urge to tuck a toy in beside him. His colour was getting better, though, and she noted with some pride as she checked his feet and legs that the swelling appeared to be improving surely, if slowly. But he still had such a long way to go. She was glad she had begun commandeering as much of the kitchen's fruit as she could get her hands on, caling for strange drinks no one had made out of the receipt-books in years - a watermelon and strawberry slushy (which Frodo had loved so much it had become a repeating item on the menu), blueberry crush, orange and ginger tea cooler, strawberry lemonade, blueberry lemonade, lemon barley-water, pear-melon-and-peppermint juice. The liquid did much to help ease his fever, while the fresh fruit helped his body fight the infection still raging. Serinde approved altogether. And by now he was improving enough to take more than invalid fare, dishes to pique his interest and appeal to his palate so as to keep him cleaning the plates, or as near it as possible: white peaches in sweet, sparkling dessert wine. . .chocolate foam with raspberries. . .pears with warm chocolate sauce. . .honeydew in mint syrup. . .berries with lemon and sugar. . .cherries in red wine. . .strawberries with balsamic vinegar. . .creamy mushroom soup. . .bluefish with lemon and mint. . .lemon chicken salad. . .hunter's chicken. . .chicken with mushrooms. . .chicken with lemon and white wine. . .creamed mushrooms. . .asparagus timbales. . .chicken timbales. . . . He needs more than soup and custard to recover his strength, Serinde thought, tucking him in more closely before turning away to mix up a fresh dose of tinctures for his next dose. Almost time to wake him. Such a shame when he was sleeping so peacefully, but miss one dose and that infection would get a foothold that no surgeon could cut out of that little body.
At last she bent over his bed, rousing him gently.
"Frodo. . .Frodo, it is time for your medicine."
"Again already?" Blinking sleepily, he looked up at her, opening his mouth dutifully nonetheless.
"Mmm-hmm." Serinde nodded, raising his head to offer the cup. "Your supper-tray should be here soon. Then perhaps we could get your bath before bed."
"I'd like that." He drank willingly, making only a slight face at the concotion's taste. "I wonder what they will send tonight."
"I don't know. But I'm sure it will be nice." Serinde set the cup aside and eased the little one back down. "What would you like most to eat before bed, if they do not bring it with your supper?"
Frodo thought for a moment. "Something with berries, please. That is always so refreshing. . .it makes me feel less thirsty when I wake during the night."
"We shall see what they bring, then." Serinde smiled kindly, though pain twisted at her heart as she watched the little one. He likely would never get better. . .oh, he would be able to walk, and no doubt even to return to his beloved Shire, but he would not be the same as before. . .in so many different ways. His finger would always pain him. He would require regular meals out of absolutely necessity for the rest of his life. In truth, he would be better off staying here than he would attempting to make the long journey back to the Shire.
Well.
That was his decision to make, wasn't it? She and Aragorn could only advise him.
"Serinde?"
"Yes, love?" She stroked a dark curl back from his tiny face.
"Aragorn said that I could stay here in Minas Tirith if I wished. What would happen to me if I did?"
Blast, is he reading my mind? "You would be well taken care of, of course. We would let you stay in your room and you could come down as you felt up to it."
"I would not be a bother?"
Oh, my little one, who put that notion in your head? Remind me to find them so I can clean their clock properly, muttered Serinde inwardly, though aloud she only said, "Of course not. Never."
"Then I should like to stay here. With you." Frodo snuggled up against her, and not for the first time, Serinde sighed at the realisation that she had lost a piece of her heart to a hobbit.
Perhaps it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
-the end-
*snugs*
Disclaimer for Readers: Serinde is (still) the OC property/creation of SurgicalSteel. If you like her, applaud Surg. If you think she's badly drawn, blame my handling of a great character.
The little hobbit slept.
Watching him, Serinde was reminded of her children when they were small, and had to resist the urge to tuck a toy in beside him. His colour was getting better, though, and she noted with some pride as she checked his feet and legs that the swelling appeared to be improving surely, if slowly. But he still had such a long way to go. She was glad she had begun commandeering as much of the kitchen's fruit as she could get her hands on, caling for strange drinks no one had made out of the receipt-books in years - a watermelon and strawberry slushy (which Frodo had loved so much it had become a repeating item on the menu), blueberry crush, orange and ginger tea cooler, strawberry lemonade, blueberry lemonade, lemon barley-water, pear-melon-and-peppermint juice. The liquid did much to help ease his fever, while the fresh fruit helped his body fight the infection still raging. Serinde approved altogether. And by now he was improving enough to take more than invalid fare, dishes to pique his interest and appeal to his palate so as to keep him cleaning the plates, or as near it as possible: white peaches in sweet, sparkling dessert wine. . .chocolate foam with raspberries. . .pears with warm chocolate sauce. . .honeydew in mint syrup. . .berries with lemon and sugar. . .cherries in red wine. . .strawberries with balsamic vinegar. . .creamy mushroom soup. . .bluefish with lemon and mint. . .lemon chicken salad. . .hunter's chicken. . .chicken with mushrooms. . .chicken with lemon and white wine. . .creamed mushrooms. . .asparagus timbales. . .chicken timbales. . . . He needs more than soup and custard to recover his strength, Serinde thought, tucking him in more closely before turning away to mix up a fresh dose of tinctures for his next dose. Almost time to wake him. Such a shame when he was sleeping so peacefully, but miss one dose and that infection would get a foothold that no surgeon could cut out of that little body.
At last she bent over his bed, rousing him gently.
"Frodo. . .Frodo, it is time for your medicine."
"Again already?" Blinking sleepily, he looked up at her, opening his mouth dutifully nonetheless.
"Mmm-hmm." Serinde nodded, raising his head to offer the cup. "Your supper-tray should be here soon. Then perhaps we could get your bath before bed."
"I'd like that." He drank willingly, making only a slight face at the concotion's taste. "I wonder what they will send tonight."
"I don't know. But I'm sure it will be nice." Serinde set the cup aside and eased the little one back down. "What would you like most to eat before bed, if they do not bring it with your supper?"
Frodo thought for a moment. "Something with berries, please. That is always so refreshing. . .it makes me feel less thirsty when I wake during the night."
"We shall see what they bring, then." Serinde smiled kindly, though pain twisted at her heart as she watched the little one. He likely would never get better. . .oh, he would be able to walk, and no doubt even to return to his beloved Shire, but he would not be the same as before. . .in so many different ways. His finger would always pain him. He would require regular meals out of absolutely necessity for the rest of his life. In truth, he would be better off staying here than he would attempting to make the long journey back to the Shire.
Well.
That was his decision to make, wasn't it? She and Aragorn could only advise him.
"Serinde?"
"Yes, love?" She stroked a dark curl back from his tiny face.
"Aragorn said that I could stay here in Minas Tirith if I wished. What would happen to me if I did?"
Blast, is he reading my mind? "You would be well taken care of, of course. We would let you stay in your room and you could come down as you felt up to it."
"I would not be a bother?"
Oh, my little one, who put that notion in your head? Remind me to find them so I can clean their clock properly, muttered Serinde inwardly, though aloud she only said, "Of course not. Never."
"Then I should like to stay here. With you." Frodo snuggled up against her, and not for the first time, Serinde sighed at the realisation that she had lost a piece of her heart to a hobbit.
Perhaps it wasn't the worst thing that could happen.
-the end-
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Date: 2008-03-23 01:03 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-03-23 02:34 pm (UTC)So warm and comforting. This is just pure perfection!
*wibble*
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Date: 2008-03-23 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2008-04-06 05:19 am (UTC)