Happy Anniversary? ;)
Oct. 23rd, 2008 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
febobeTomorrow is the anniversary of Frodo's waking in Rivendell, and as such, I've written a little something for the occasion. . . .
This is based on a Shirebunny *waviesnugs Shirebound* that I started work on positively years ago, but if I ever finished and posted the darned thing, I don't remember where I put it, as the version I have in my files was incomplete, and I don't recall finishing it. ;D So. . .whether I have or not, here's this edition of "Welcome to Rivendell." Enjoy!
Rated PG for nekkid hobbit. Nothing graphic, mind, just. . .y'know. He gets a sponge-bath, 'k? No sex, slash, or profanity, as usual.
F35. Movie-bunny: The scene where Frodo awakens in Rivendell ends with Elrond saying, “Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins.” Continue this scene. What happens next? Who speaks? Does anyone enter (or leave) the room? Is Frodo well enough to get out of bed yet? It’s 10:00 in the morning -- is it time for second breakfast?
"Welcome to Rivendell. . .Frodo Baggins."
Kind words, but Frodo found himself feeling stiff and achy, and rather anxious either to return to sleep or find some relief from the increasing discomfort he was growing to recognise: his back ached from lying on it, pillows notwithstanding; his shoulder still throbbed a little; he felt miserably damp, as if after a high fever. . .and, strangely enough, he felt not only very thirsty, but a bit hungry.
Well, perhaps not all that strangely. Their rations had been scarce toward the end, and he had begun refusing as much of his share as he could get away with, finding it difficult to swallow, his appetite all but gone.
Such was not, however, the case now. . .and he began to wonder what they did with invalids here. Would he be expected to stay on a starvation diet until he was better? The thought made him shudder. Perhaps they would at least allow him a few sips of plain broth or warm milk. Surely that would not do any harm. . . .
"Good morning again, Frodo."
The soft, warm voice startled him. Looking up, the young hobbit discovered that Lord Elrond had returned, closing the door silently behind him as he re-entered the room, a sweeping figure of elegance in simple silken healer's garments. Carefully he approached the bed, all the care in his step that one might use in approaching an injured child or woodland creature.
"I realise that all must still seem very new to you here, and very strange."
At once Frodo nodded. "Yes - I mean, it is pleasant - but - it is new, and - I am only a hobbit of the Shire; Bilbo has spoken often of Rivendell, but - it is not the same as being here."
Elrond smiled gently, nodding. "Indeed. I hope you will not mind being patient with us while you grow accustomed to your surroundings. . .particularly at the beginning, for just now I must ask you to rely on some of us. Will you trust me?"
Frodo nodded, though he found himself watching curiously as the elven lord took a seat upon the bed beside him, light weight hardly disturbing the mattress. It was as if no one had even touched the bed.
"I did not wish to disturb you with this earlier, while Gandalf and Sam were here, or while you were sleeping soundly, but I do need to undress and examine you. Then I will need to bathe the wound and change your bandages. . .and if you will permit me, I will give you a bath and change your bed as well before you have a fresh gown and we tuck you back in."
Obediently Frodo nodded, lying still as Elrond folded the covers back gingerly, allowing the elven lord to begin unfastening tiny buttons upon his night-shirt.
"Do you have any questions so far? I cannot permit you to speak a great deal today, for you must not tire yourself, but if there is anything which presses at your mind so that you cannot rest. . ."
Frodo considered for a moment, but shook his head shyly. . .however, a sudden soft rumble posed the query for him, causing him to blush. Elrond merely laughed, continuing to unfasten night-shirt buttons, laying one slender hand on Frodo's stomach.
"There is a good sign, at least - may I take it that the owner of the stomach agrees? Would you like something to eat?"
Eagerly Frodo nodded, sighing inwardly with relief. "Yes, please. . .if. . .if it's all right."
"A tray has already been ordered for your meal. It should be ready as soon as we finish with your care. In the meantime, there is a little punch for you - slowly now." Pouring a ruby-coloured liquid into a feeding-cup, Elrond lifted Frodo's head on his arm, then put the spout - smoothed with some sort of sweet, refreshing lip-balm, it seemed - to the hobbit's lips, waiting patiently, as if he had all the time in the world. Elves did, didn't they? mused Frodo as he drank thirstily. The punch seemed to be not unlike the fruit shrubs he was accustomed to in the Shire, only infinitely more delicious, as if made with a precision that drew the finest flavour from the fruit, put only the right mixture of tart and sweet into each vial of syrup and each mixed cup. This tasted of summer raspberries, and reminded him of Pippin, bringing a smile to his lips.
"I am sure that you will be eager to rise and join your companions, and to explore the Valley. Regardless, I must insist that you rest for now. This afternoon, perhaps, you may get up and dress for a brief walk in Sam's care, on the condition that you not spend all your time standing, but instead take advantage of the stone benches about the gardens and walkways while you are out."
Frodo nodded, somewhat disappointed as the empty cup was removed. . .but the return of gentle hands almost made up for this, the healer's touch in undressing him soothing away aches and pains he had not realised were troubling him. Large, slender hands eased him out of the night-shirt, then turned him onto the his right side, this time leaving him there for a little, rubbing his back soothingly. He felt so comfortable that he almost thought he would fall asleep once more. . .until the hands turned him gently onto his back again, taking his wrist between long, perfectly tapered fingers. It felt so good that Frodo lay perfectly still, allowing the elven lord's fingers to rest there for a long moment before they left, returning to ease Frodo onto thick, fluffy towels. Moments later, a warm, damp cloth brushed Frodo's skin gently, its fragrance deliciously redolent with the scent of peppermint.
"We will wash the wound and change your bandages when we finish," explained Elrond quietly as he worked, "lest we dirty them in bathing you now. I have athelas and hot water to ease your pain."
"Thank you." Frodo managed a smile as the elven lord continued to bathe him, gently sponging him down with the peppermint-soaped cloth, then rinsing away the residue with a fresh cloth. It felt so good to lie in bed and be cared for, to be clean again. . . . The light sponging began to ease away some of the feverish feeling; he felt cooler, but not chilled. By the time Elrond readied himself to bathe the shoulder wound, Frodo found that he was much less apprehensive than he had anticipated.
And sure enough: Elrond peeled away bandages carefully, using a cloth dipped in hot athelas-water to loosen them where necessary, never pulling hard or forcing. It was almost relaxing.
"Your wound is healing well."
Frodo stretched gingerly. "It does not hurt as it did. It only feels a little painful now."
"That will ease. You will feel better with rest and nourishment."
Nodding, Frodo quieted and lay still as his caregiver finished tending the wound and rebandaged it securely but tenderly, then set aside the supplies used and rose to wash his hands. Carefully the elven lord dressed him in a soft, clean night-shirt still warm from the warming-rack by the hearth. It all felt deliciously cosy, and Frodo snuggled down into his covers comfortably, allowing Elrond to fluff pillows and counterpane to their fullest, most comfortable girths.
Just as Frodo began to feel the stirrings of his stomach again, there came a light knock at the door. "Come in!" called Elrond without turning, continuing to smooth covers and pillows carefully, propping Frodo up into a reclining position. In came another elf. . .one carrying a sizable silver tray covered with a polished matching lid. This he set upon the bed where Elrond indicated before departing, leaving the two alone once more. Elrond smiled warmly.
"Well, young Master Baggins, shall we see what we have here?"
Frodo studied the tray curiously as Elrond lifted the cover to reveal a host of soothing, soft foods and liquids: coddled eggs in a little silver dish, surrounded by toast-points. . .fluffy scrambled eggs. . .cool apple juice. . .hot buttered toast cut into small shapes, sun and moon, stars and circles, even little mushrooms. . .soothing, smoothly prepared porridge with golden honey swirled on top. . .heated apple cider. . .fresh milk. . .honey-custard. . .mulled pear cider. . .egg-toast with syrup. . .milk-punch. . .piping-hot pancakes, silver-coin size, in assorted varieties: plain golden buttermilk, spiced gingerbread, fresh apple cinnamon, with a host of heated syrups to pour over them. . .creamy mushroom soup. . .delicate chicken broth. . .strengthening beef-tea. . .rich potato soup. . .smooth chicken and mushroom soup. . .vegetable soup, hot and nourishing. . .soft mashed potatoes. . .creamed mushrooms on toast. . .sweet milk soup, like that made for children in the Shire. . .gentle milk-toast. . .ginger tea. . .hot chocolate in a little mug. . .plain tea, with a choice of honey or sugar and milk for sweetening it. . .and warm applesauce lightly dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg, surrounded by lightly buttered toast-points.
"We were not certain whether you would prefer breakfast food or luncheon; I know this time of day is near your second breakfast, but you still need food more suitable to your condition than the muffins and such I understand are common choices in the Shire for this meal. Is there anything here you feel you could eat?"
For a moment, Frodo considered. . .and began to worry, but Elrond seemed to guess his thoughts.
"You need not consider whether you can lift the cups. I will feed you; you are not yet strong enough to manage alone. It has been some days without any significant nourishment getting into you, and Sam and your other companions tell me that you were taking very little on the road before that."
"Yes." Frodo studied the tray with interest. "It all looks delicious."
"I understand. Travelling rations are ill suited to an invalid's needs." Elrond gestured encouragingly toward the tray. "Which would you prefer to try first? You may have whatever you wish."
Frodo considered for a moment. "The chicken and mushroom soup looks wonderful."
"Then let us begin with that." Elrond lifted the little feeding-cup to Frodo's lips, touching the spout gently to his mouth so that he could sip. Nursing hungrily at the cup, Frodo found that it did indeed taste every bit as good as it looked and smelled. He sipped for some minutes before Elrond set the cup aside.
"Rest for a moment. Would you like a little more, or would you like to try something else?"
Frodo considered. "The milk soup would be nice. I used to have that when I was a child and I was ill. It was my favourite."
"Then we must remember that." Elrond smiled as he lifted this cup in turn to Frodo's lips, offering the sweet liquid patiently. Again Frodo sipped hungrily. It was absolutely delicious, so much like Primula's that Frodo could have sworn someone in the kitchens had stolen her receipt.
"The pancakes next, please. . .and some scrambled egg? I love pancakes with scrambled egg." Frodo looked up at Elrond hopefully, but the elven lord was already preparing the requested bite, delicately dipping the mouthful of buttermilk pancake into a bit of blueberry syrup. This Frodo nipped up eagerly, relieved to find that something more solid went down easily enough as well, and did not seem inclined to come back up.
Elrond continued to feed Frodo, who continued to eat, trying small mouthfuls of each dish, until at last he had worked his way around the tray quite thoroughly. When he was beginning to feel quite satisfied, Elrond offered him another sip of tea with milk and sugar.
"You should rest. Ordinarily I do not advise lying down after a meal, but this has been a soothing selection, not likely to cause any upset, and you are still too weak to sit up for very long. Let me tuck you back in, and you can sleep for a while."
Nodding, Frodo waited quietly as the elven lord set the tray aside and rearranged his pillows, lowering him back into a more comfortable position, tucking him into bed cosily before fetching warmers from the hearth and tucking the wrapped smooth stones in around him. He felt better at once, and closed his eyes.
"Sleep, Frodo. I will stay with you."
Do elves ever sleep? wondered Frodo idly. But almost at once, he fell into a deep and delicious slumber.
-the end-
This is based on a Shirebunny *waviesnugs Shirebound* that I started work on positively years ago, but if I ever finished and posted the darned thing, I don't remember where I put it, as the version I have in my files was incomplete, and I don't recall finishing it. ;D So. . .whether I have or not, here's this edition of "Welcome to Rivendell." Enjoy!
Rated PG for nekkid hobbit. Nothing graphic, mind, just. . .y'know. He gets a sponge-bath, 'k? No sex, slash, or profanity, as usual.
F35. Movie-bunny: The scene where Frodo awakens in Rivendell ends with Elrond saying, “Welcome to Rivendell, Frodo Baggins.” Continue this scene. What happens next? Who speaks? Does anyone enter (or leave) the room? Is Frodo well enough to get out of bed yet? It’s 10:00 in the morning -- is it time for second breakfast?
"Welcome to Rivendell. . .Frodo Baggins."
Kind words, but Frodo found himself feeling stiff and achy, and rather anxious either to return to sleep or find some relief from the increasing discomfort he was growing to recognise: his back ached from lying on it, pillows notwithstanding; his shoulder still throbbed a little; he felt miserably damp, as if after a high fever. . .and, strangely enough, he felt not only very thirsty, but a bit hungry.
Well, perhaps not all that strangely. Their rations had been scarce toward the end, and he had begun refusing as much of his share as he could get away with, finding it difficult to swallow, his appetite all but gone.
Such was not, however, the case now. . .and he began to wonder what they did with invalids here. Would he be expected to stay on a starvation diet until he was better? The thought made him shudder. Perhaps they would at least allow him a few sips of plain broth or warm milk. Surely that would not do any harm. . . .
"Good morning again, Frodo."
The soft, warm voice startled him. Looking up, the young hobbit discovered that Lord Elrond had returned, closing the door silently behind him as he re-entered the room, a sweeping figure of elegance in simple silken healer's garments. Carefully he approached the bed, all the care in his step that one might use in approaching an injured child or woodland creature.
"I realise that all must still seem very new to you here, and very strange."
At once Frodo nodded. "Yes - I mean, it is pleasant - but - it is new, and - I am only a hobbit of the Shire; Bilbo has spoken often of Rivendell, but - it is not the same as being here."
Elrond smiled gently, nodding. "Indeed. I hope you will not mind being patient with us while you grow accustomed to your surroundings. . .particularly at the beginning, for just now I must ask you to rely on some of us. Will you trust me?"
Frodo nodded, though he found himself watching curiously as the elven lord took a seat upon the bed beside him, light weight hardly disturbing the mattress. It was as if no one had even touched the bed.
"I did not wish to disturb you with this earlier, while Gandalf and Sam were here, or while you were sleeping soundly, but I do need to undress and examine you. Then I will need to bathe the wound and change your bandages. . .and if you will permit me, I will give you a bath and change your bed as well before you have a fresh gown and we tuck you back in."
Obediently Frodo nodded, lying still as Elrond folded the covers back gingerly, allowing the elven lord to begin unfastening tiny buttons upon his night-shirt.
"Do you have any questions so far? I cannot permit you to speak a great deal today, for you must not tire yourself, but if there is anything which presses at your mind so that you cannot rest. . ."
Frodo considered for a moment, but shook his head shyly. . .however, a sudden soft rumble posed the query for him, causing him to blush. Elrond merely laughed, continuing to unfasten night-shirt buttons, laying one slender hand on Frodo's stomach.
"There is a good sign, at least - may I take it that the owner of the stomach agrees? Would you like something to eat?"
Eagerly Frodo nodded, sighing inwardly with relief. "Yes, please. . .if. . .if it's all right."
"A tray has already been ordered for your meal. It should be ready as soon as we finish with your care. In the meantime, there is a little punch for you - slowly now." Pouring a ruby-coloured liquid into a feeding-cup, Elrond lifted Frodo's head on his arm, then put the spout - smoothed with some sort of sweet, refreshing lip-balm, it seemed - to the hobbit's lips, waiting patiently, as if he had all the time in the world. Elves did, didn't they? mused Frodo as he drank thirstily. The punch seemed to be not unlike the fruit shrubs he was accustomed to in the Shire, only infinitely more delicious, as if made with a precision that drew the finest flavour from the fruit, put only the right mixture of tart and sweet into each vial of syrup and each mixed cup. This tasted of summer raspberries, and reminded him of Pippin, bringing a smile to his lips.
"I am sure that you will be eager to rise and join your companions, and to explore the Valley. Regardless, I must insist that you rest for now. This afternoon, perhaps, you may get up and dress for a brief walk in Sam's care, on the condition that you not spend all your time standing, but instead take advantage of the stone benches about the gardens and walkways while you are out."
Frodo nodded, somewhat disappointed as the empty cup was removed. . .but the return of gentle hands almost made up for this, the healer's touch in undressing him soothing away aches and pains he had not realised were troubling him. Large, slender hands eased him out of the night-shirt, then turned him onto the his right side, this time leaving him there for a little, rubbing his back soothingly. He felt so comfortable that he almost thought he would fall asleep once more. . .until the hands turned him gently onto his back again, taking his wrist between long, perfectly tapered fingers. It felt so good that Frodo lay perfectly still, allowing the elven lord's fingers to rest there for a long moment before they left, returning to ease Frodo onto thick, fluffy towels. Moments later, a warm, damp cloth brushed Frodo's skin gently, its fragrance deliciously redolent with the scent of peppermint.
"We will wash the wound and change your bandages when we finish," explained Elrond quietly as he worked, "lest we dirty them in bathing you now. I have athelas and hot water to ease your pain."
"Thank you." Frodo managed a smile as the elven lord continued to bathe him, gently sponging him down with the peppermint-soaped cloth, then rinsing away the residue with a fresh cloth. It felt so good to lie in bed and be cared for, to be clean again. . . . The light sponging began to ease away some of the feverish feeling; he felt cooler, but not chilled. By the time Elrond readied himself to bathe the shoulder wound, Frodo found that he was much less apprehensive than he had anticipated.
And sure enough: Elrond peeled away bandages carefully, using a cloth dipped in hot athelas-water to loosen them where necessary, never pulling hard or forcing. It was almost relaxing.
"Your wound is healing well."
Frodo stretched gingerly. "It does not hurt as it did. It only feels a little painful now."
"That will ease. You will feel better with rest and nourishment."
Nodding, Frodo quieted and lay still as his caregiver finished tending the wound and rebandaged it securely but tenderly, then set aside the supplies used and rose to wash his hands. Carefully the elven lord dressed him in a soft, clean night-shirt still warm from the warming-rack by the hearth. It all felt deliciously cosy, and Frodo snuggled down into his covers comfortably, allowing Elrond to fluff pillows and counterpane to their fullest, most comfortable girths.
Just as Frodo began to feel the stirrings of his stomach again, there came a light knock at the door. "Come in!" called Elrond without turning, continuing to smooth covers and pillows carefully, propping Frodo up into a reclining position. In came another elf. . .one carrying a sizable silver tray covered with a polished matching lid. This he set upon the bed where Elrond indicated before departing, leaving the two alone once more. Elrond smiled warmly.
"Well, young Master Baggins, shall we see what we have here?"
Frodo studied the tray curiously as Elrond lifted the cover to reveal a host of soothing, soft foods and liquids: coddled eggs in a little silver dish, surrounded by toast-points. . .fluffy scrambled eggs. . .cool apple juice. . .hot buttered toast cut into small shapes, sun and moon, stars and circles, even little mushrooms. . .soothing, smoothly prepared porridge with golden honey swirled on top. . .heated apple cider. . .fresh milk. . .honey-custard. . .mulled pear cider. . .egg-toast with syrup. . .milk-punch. . .piping-hot pancakes, silver-coin size, in assorted varieties: plain golden buttermilk, spiced gingerbread, fresh apple cinnamon, with a host of heated syrups to pour over them. . .creamy mushroom soup. . .delicate chicken broth. . .strengthening beef-tea. . .rich potato soup. . .smooth chicken and mushroom soup. . .vegetable soup, hot and nourishing. . .soft mashed potatoes. . .creamed mushrooms on toast. . .sweet milk soup, like that made for children in the Shire. . .gentle milk-toast. . .ginger tea. . .hot chocolate in a little mug. . .plain tea, with a choice of honey or sugar and milk for sweetening it. . .and warm applesauce lightly dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg, surrounded by lightly buttered toast-points.
"We were not certain whether you would prefer breakfast food or luncheon; I know this time of day is near your second breakfast, but you still need food more suitable to your condition than the muffins and such I understand are common choices in the Shire for this meal. Is there anything here you feel you could eat?"
For a moment, Frodo considered. . .and began to worry, but Elrond seemed to guess his thoughts.
"You need not consider whether you can lift the cups. I will feed you; you are not yet strong enough to manage alone. It has been some days without any significant nourishment getting into you, and Sam and your other companions tell me that you were taking very little on the road before that."
"Yes." Frodo studied the tray with interest. "It all looks delicious."
"I understand. Travelling rations are ill suited to an invalid's needs." Elrond gestured encouragingly toward the tray. "Which would you prefer to try first? You may have whatever you wish."
Frodo considered for a moment. "The chicken and mushroom soup looks wonderful."
"Then let us begin with that." Elrond lifted the little feeding-cup to Frodo's lips, touching the spout gently to his mouth so that he could sip. Nursing hungrily at the cup, Frodo found that it did indeed taste every bit as good as it looked and smelled. He sipped for some minutes before Elrond set the cup aside.
"Rest for a moment. Would you like a little more, or would you like to try something else?"
Frodo considered. "The milk soup would be nice. I used to have that when I was a child and I was ill. It was my favourite."
"Then we must remember that." Elrond smiled as he lifted this cup in turn to Frodo's lips, offering the sweet liquid patiently. Again Frodo sipped hungrily. It was absolutely delicious, so much like Primula's that Frodo could have sworn someone in the kitchens had stolen her receipt.
"The pancakes next, please. . .and some scrambled egg? I love pancakes with scrambled egg." Frodo looked up at Elrond hopefully, but the elven lord was already preparing the requested bite, delicately dipping the mouthful of buttermilk pancake into a bit of blueberry syrup. This Frodo nipped up eagerly, relieved to find that something more solid went down easily enough as well, and did not seem inclined to come back up.
Elrond continued to feed Frodo, who continued to eat, trying small mouthfuls of each dish, until at last he had worked his way around the tray quite thoroughly. When he was beginning to feel quite satisfied, Elrond offered him another sip of tea with milk and sugar.
"You should rest. Ordinarily I do not advise lying down after a meal, but this has been a soothing selection, not likely to cause any upset, and you are still too weak to sit up for very long. Let me tuck you back in, and you can sleep for a while."
Nodding, Frodo waited quietly as the elven lord set the tray aside and rearranged his pillows, lowering him back into a more comfortable position, tucking him into bed cosily before fetching warmers from the hearth and tucking the wrapped smooth stones in around him. He felt better at once, and closed his eyes.
"Sleep, Frodo. I will stay with you."
Do elves ever sleep? wondered Frodo idly. But almost at once, he fell into a deep and delicious slumber.
-the end-
