Umm... Sorry?

Chapter Two

Bag End West erupted like a bee hive when Mel, Elenya and Ariel returned, traveling as fast as they dared with an unconscious Frodo draped over Strider’s back. Stormyday took over care of their stricken master, but not before Pearl managed to pull him from the pony and crush his body to her bosom.

“Oh, my beloved!!!” she cried dramatically. “My dearest is wounded and I am distraught beyond consoling! Oh woe is me! Stormy, you MUST save him!”

“He’d probably fare better if he could breathe,” Erendis’ dry wit broke through Pearl’s lamentations and the buxom lass looked down at Frodo in shock. He was turning blue.

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “Sorry!” She eased her grip and she and Ele, being strong and capable, carried him bodily into the smial. The other ladies followed holding Frodo’s feet raised till the poor hobbit was almost upside down. Now his face was turning red. Stormy lingered behind and touched the shoulders of the Bethel and Anais.

“I think this wound is more serious than it looks, and I am worried.” Stormy’s voice was low and urgent and the two sisters leaned closer to hear it. “I can treat it, but I think he will need elvish medicine. Could one of you ride into Avallone and fetch a healer? I think we will need one and quickly.”

“I think we’d be better served by sending Juliebeth, Stromy, oh,…er… Stormy! She is the fastest rider we have.” Anais nodded towards the smial. “I’ll fetch her instead – there is no time to lose!”

Juliebeth was fetched from her post by the side of Frodo’s bed and agreed to ride off for aid. The mission would be something only she could do for her beloved, while every haremite in the place was standing about in the VERY crowded bedroom. “I’ll be back as swiftly as I can!” she called. “And I will have a healer here if I have to drag him back!” She leapt onto Strider’s back and dashed off towards the capital.

Meanwhile, in Frodo’s bedroom, the hobbit had been laid out and Elda was busily divesting him of his clothing. Several others volunteered to help, but the slender lass fairly growled at anyone who dared to touch the fabrics. Chica and Niph huddled at the foot of the bed and watched as Frodo’s trousers were removed by Elda’s expert touch.

“Wow…,” murmured Chica. “That was WAY too close for comfort! Look there! An inch to the left and.…!” She shuddered, not even wanting to imagine such dire consequences.

Niph nodded and peered closer. “You are right!” she whispered. “Oh, dear! It’s so close! Do you think there are nerves there that might have been affected? I mean, do you think…, “ her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “That he will suffer any lasting ‘effects’?”

The look of terror on Chica’s face indicated she had not thought of that possibility. “Well that’s something I’m going to find out at the soonest opportunity!” The two nodded vigorously in agreement and then bit their respective lips in horrified contemplation.

“We need to keep pressure on the wound,” reminded Stormy. “Who wants to hold this dressing in place?” Every hand in the room shot up eagerly. Meryl, who wasted no time raising her hand, promptly plopped down on the bed beside Frodo, tossing Elda and the pile of clothes right to the floor. Ele bent to help her irate sister to her feet because it was quite clear that while Elda might have been forced to give up her place on the bed, she wasn’t losing her grip on the tweedy coat! Though Ele did manage to pry the one shirt away from her.


Meanwhile, on the streets of Avallone, a flushed and frantic Juliebeth almost ran down Goldenberry who was out doing some shopping. Goldenberry was the finest healer in the smial and it seemed more of the day’s bad luck that she had been away when Frodo returned. Juliebeth pulled the pony up short before her sister and motioned for her urgently.

“You must come back at once!!!” she gasped. “Frodo’s been hurt and I’ve been sent to find a healer! You are a healer yourself and have worked with the elves, haven’t you? Do you know someone you could get to come?”

Goldenberry was shocked and dismayed and quickly pried as many details from Juliebeth as the breathless lass could relate.

“This sounds like it might have hit an artery… oh, dear! Time is of the essence. I know of one elven healer who is well versed in hobbit medicine. Could you take me to him?”

Juliebeth pulled her sister onto the back of the pony and followed her direction down the elegant city streets. At a lovely garden gate, Goldenberry asked her to stop and slid down the pony’s side. A tall elf lord (with curiously green skin?) greeted her and bowed low as he asked her what the matter was. Goldenberry deferred to Juliebeth’s explanation and the elf lord thought carefully.

“I will come, of course, but I must prepare a few things. My dear Goldenberry, I believe you may have purchased something from me today that will be of great use in this case! The phial of miru-yohimbe. It is a wonderful tonic for the blood and will cure almost any ills a hobbit might encounter, including injuries to the circulatory system. Entirely vegetarian too! But you must be very careful and use only as much as I indicated. If you dose him too much, he may have some surprising side effects!”

“I will remember, my lord.” Goldenberry curtsied. “But please follow as soon as you are able. I may be a healer but there is no equal to elvish medicine. My lord Frodo deserves the best we can give him.”

“I will be to your dwelling as soon as I am able, but I am sure with that tonic and your skills, your lord will recover most swiftly.”

Goldenberry was helped back onto the pony’s back and Juliebeth spurred him down the streets and on, as fast as the poor beast could run, to Bag End West.


To Be Continued
 

Go to Chapter Three