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. A word about Kalil and the Haradrim: I intend absolutely no disrespect to any culture or language. But the people of Harad would look and seem strange to Sam, Shire hobbit that he is, and more so than the fair-skinned elves and Big Folk he knew well. As for Kalil's language, I realize some people are fluent in multiple languages, but Kalil isn't as fluent as some people. I think he does pretty well myself!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Toward the middle of the morning, Mr. Frodo opened his eyes again, but this time it were like he weren't seeing me, nor Eowyn, nor where we were.

"Sam?" he said.

"I'm here, sir."

"Sam, we must get there..how much farther is it, do you think? And no water left. It's so hot here."

"Sir, we ain't in Mordor no more. You're safe in your own bed."

"No - Sam, Sam, don't leave me - "

"I'm not leaving you, sir. I'm staying right here."

Well, that upset Eowyn so much she got up and said she was going to get Kalil, and I didn't buck her, 'cause I figured Mr. Frodo needed a doctor bad, with the fever driving him out o'his head like this, so I gave him some water and tried to get him to take little sips, and sort o'played along.

"There now, sir, there's water. I've got more. Just you drink up. There's plenty."

He drank up for me, thankfully, but he was burning up something awful; I could feel it. I didn't reckon I'd ever seen him this bad sick, though he'd been real bad with his wound, and he'd been right sick still when I woke up, after all of it, in bed with high fevers for days after I was up walking around.

But he hadn't never been this bad.

Kalil came running back in, followed by Eowyn, and felt o'Mr. Frodo's forehead. He tried to get Mr. Frodo to let him put the thermometer in his mouth, but Mr. Frodo weren't having none o'that, and wouldn't let him, kept trying to hit him like he thought the fellow was trying to hurt him. Kalil looked at me.

"Sam, can you hold him down for me? I have to check his temperature, but I cannot do it in the usual way."

Well, I'd seen Lord Elrond and Aragorn a time or two when Mr. Frodo was so sick he had to sleep all the time, or weren't in his head proper, so I had a notion what he was about. "Reckon I can, sir. I'll do my best."

He motioned Eowyn over and started fishing round in his bag. "Mistress, I need you to help hold him, too. Hold his legs. He will fight."

Knowing what was going to be done, I couldn't say as I blamed him, but I got up where I could hold his arms and body, while Eowyn got hold o'his legs. He didn't seem to mind it much till Kalil started poking that other kind o'thermometer up his backside, and then he fought like a wild animal, trying to jerk his arms free and kick his legs, and it took everything Eowyn and I had just to keep him from hitting Kalil, or kicking him, or us either, and I just kept talking to him real low and gentle, trying to calm him down, until finally he lay still and Kalil was able to get what he needed.

But he looked real worried.

"His fever is very high," he told us, "more than a hundred and five. I do not know what is going on in his chest, but I know it cannot be good. We must get him into a cool bath."

Eowyn ran off and got the servants to bring cool water while I got Mr. Frodo undressed, which weren't no easy task, and Kalil tested it when it got there, made sure it weren't too warm or too cold, and once the tub was filled up, he lifted Mr. Frodo in his arms and carried him to the tub, Mr. Frodo fighting him all the way. But he was so weak and small next to Kalil that none o'his fighting did much to slow things down.

Well, Kalil set him down in the water, and he started crying, and I hurried over there and started talking to try and calm him down.

"Mr. Frodo, sir, it's all right. You're safe. You're real sick, but we're going to take care o'you. It's me, Sam, your Sam, and that's Lady Eowyn over there; she loves you, remember? And this is just your doctor here, and he wants to help you. It'll be all right. Just you relax now."

He must've understood some o'that, 'cause he stopped fighting, though he was still sniffling a little, and coughing, great hollow coughs that seemed fit to rip the life out o'him, so bad you could hear how tore up his chest was, like with pneumonia, only worse. Kalil and Eowyn tried to give him a bath while I talked to him, and stroked his hair, which was soaked through with sweat, dripping wet.

Finally Kalil said we could take him back to bed, and Eowyn got a great big towel for Kalil to wrap him in, and I straightened up the bed a bit, and we took him back and put him to bed with cold cloths all over him and just a light sheet to cover him. He didn't shake none, which I reckoned was a good thing, but he was breathing real fast and ragged, and he still seemed pretty much out o'it.

And I was afraid.

Very afraid.

-to be continued-