The characters and main events of this story do not belong to me but to the imagination of JRR Tolkien. I am borrowing them and I apologise to him and to his heirs and executors for taking the liberty.

I am seeking to make no money from this and sincerely doubt that any would be forthcoming even if I did.

Although the story written here is not based on any specific role play,

the relationship illustrated between Frodo and Elrond has grown from a series of role-plays between

Elwen and Frodo Baggins of Bag End

And as such I gratefully acknowledge FEBOBE's input.

JOURNEY TO THE LAST HOMELY HOUSE

By the time the large entourage reached the borders of the Misty Mountains and set up camp Frodo was feeling very weary for the journey had been taken slowly but it had been long. For the latter part of that day, Frodo found his pony flanked by Elrond's sons, Elrohir and Elladan, and he suspected that they had been sent by their father for, on more than one occasion he saw the older elf turn in his saddle to glance back at them.

The hobbit felt a little cross at first that they should think he would need such coddling but Elrond's decision had proved to be correct. On at least two occasions during the afternoon Frodo found that he had nodded off, and awoke to find that Elrohir had wordlessly taken his pony's reigns and Elladan had placed a light hand on his back to steady him. As soon as they saw that he was alert enough to manage on his own the reins had been returned and the hand removed.

It was late into the evening by the time a halt was called. The large glen chosen was apparently well known to the elves for they organised and set up camp quickly. Frodo and his friends were led to a quiet corner by Elladan and instructed to rest while the elves organised food and tents.

Frodo felt relieved. He hoped Sam and the others had not noticed but when he had tried to dismount his legs had collapsed under him and Elladan had caught and held him up until he felt steady enough to manage on his own. Elladan and his horse had blocked everyone's view, as far as he could tell, for no one had said anything. As soon as he managed to regain control of his muscles Elrohir had led Frodo's pony away with the brother's horses and Elladan supported the little hobbit with a gentle hand on his back as he led him to the quiet corner allocated.

Beginning to feel cold, Frodo drew his elven cloak closer about him and was glad when the hobbits were led to a fire near the centre of the camp. There they found themselves seated with Galadriel, Celeborn and Gandalf and a little while later food was brought.

"Good evening, Frodo." The rich voice of the Lord of Imladris came soft to the hobbit's ear and Frodo turned, to find Elrond seated at his side.

Frodo blushed to find himself in such company, particularly when the elf set a plate of food in his lap and offered a small cup. "Err . . . Good evening, Lord Elrond. Thank you."

He found that his plate did not contain the same food as every one else, who seemed to be eating a stew, thick with meat and vegetables. Frodo's plate, however, contained a little skinned breast of roast fowl, some fresh soft bread and a few segments of apple. How Elrond had known that the thought of the stew had made the little hobbit's stomach churn he did not know but Frodo was grateful that he did.

"You should drink this first." Elrond whispered, as he placed the small cup of clear liquid in Frodo's hand. "It is miruvor. It will help to settle your stomach and strengthen you."

Frodo accepted it and took a sip. It worked almost instantly and he continued to drink slowly until the cup was drained. It combined with the warmth of the fire to still his shivering and made the thought of food a little more palatable.

Throughout the meal Elrond remained at his side, deftly steering aside any conversation that came Frodo's way so that the young hobbit could relax and eat his light meal undisturbed. And when Frodo finally set aside his plate he had left only a little of the bread and fowl and felt a lot better. Elrond rose without a word and, collecting Frodo's plate and cup along with his own, left the circle as silently as he had arrived.

When they were shown to their tents a little while later, Frodo discovered that he and Sam had been given one to themselves, Pippin and Merry having been found space with Gandalf. Once more Frodo was relieved. Whilst his recent experiences had calmed Pippin down a lot he was still a bit of a chatterbox and Frodo was not up to conversation tonight. Their saddlebags had been placed by their beds and here, too, Frodo found a change. Additional, light, blankets had been spread on his bedroll and a couple of feather filled cushions placed for his head.

Sam noticed and nodded approvingly. "Well, that's nice of them. I noticed you were shivering a bit last night, Mr Frodo."

Frodo looked at his friend in horror. "You didn't say something did you, Sam? I don't want everyone to think they have to coddle me all the time."

"Well, truth told, I had intended to ask for a couple of extra blankets. But it went clean out of my head. It looks like someone just guessed." His voice dropped. "You can never tell how much these elves know. After all this time I still can't look the Lord and Lady of the Wood or Master Elrond in the eyes. I feel like they're looking straight into my head all the time . . . like I didn't have no clothes on. I didn't rightly know where to look at supper." He blushed and Frodo had to laugh.

He suspected that he knew who had arranged the extra bedding and determined to thank Lord Elrond in the morning. At the moment, he was too tired to thank anyone and he crawled gratefully into the warm nest of soft covers and fell quickly asleep.

When he awoke next it was with a soft sob, escaping from some dark dream that lurked just short of his conscious mind. It was dark and he was cold, despite the extra covers, so that even pulling them closer did not warm his feet and back and he began to shiver again. Finally admitting defeat he decided to go outside. Perhaps one of the fires still burned. Gathering up a couple of covers and wrapping them about his shoulders, Frodo crept quietly from the tent, leaving Sam snoring softly.

Outside, he found several fires still burning and at one, some distance away, he could see Gandalf, Celeborn, Galadriel and Elrond seated. At least he assumed it was they for the figures were all hooded and cloaked in grey. They seemed to be talking but they must have been whispering for Frodo could hear no words. Perhaps they talked directly into each other's minds, he thought, remembering Sam's comments. He settled himself on a log by a fire nearer his tent and held his hands out to the cheery blaze, trying to coax some heat into his shivering frame. The flames flickered and danced but they did not warm him, even a little.

A movement across the glade made him glance up and he saw one of the seated figures at the other fire rise and glide towards him. Grey hooded it was difficult to tell who it was at first but as it drew closer, Frodo could see a long lock of raven black hair slipping out from the hood and knew that it must be Lord Elrond.

The elf hunkered down at Frodo's side and folded back his hood. Piercing grey eyes scanned his face and Frodo flinched when a hand reached out to lay fingers at the pulse pint at his wrist. "Are you having difficulty sleeping?" The lilt of the elven tongue still lingered; even when Elrond spoke Westron and the effect was one of gentle music.

"It's nothing. Just a bad dream and I'm a little cold. I'm probably just over tired," Frodo replied, but he did not pull away his wrist for he felt that a little warmth seeping into him from the elf's touch. As he looked at Elrond he noticed for the first time that there was a soft glow within him and, glancing down at his hand, he found that glow intensified at the point where Elrond touched his wrist. His eyes widened in surprise.

Elrond smiled, gently. "It would seem that the Ring has left one good legacy. You begin to see things more clearly."

"I see, but I do not understand what it is I am seeing," answered Frodo, breathlessly.

"You see the music within. It is clear to find in all, if you have the eyes to find it, but in elvenkind it is stronger than in mortals. Yet, I can see it within you, even now."

"In . . . me?" Frodo stared hard at his hand again but could see only Elrond's pale light, although the glow seemed to be moving up his chilled arm and the gentle warmth moved with it.

"Yes, Little Master. And what I see, concerns me. You are exhausted and you need to rest."

Frodo smiled, grimly. "I will not argue with that diagnosis but I cannot seem to get warm enough to sleep and when I do . . ." he swallowed, "there are dreams."

"If you will allow me, I can help," Elrond offered, finally releasing Frodo's wrist.

Frodo remembered waking in Rivendell to the warm welcome of the Last Homely House. Somewhere, deep inside there was a memory of the elven lord calling him gently from dark places, leading him back to sunlight.

"Yes, please. I think I would very much like your help."

Elrond rose. "Can you walk?"

Frodo stood, weaving a little as his body adjusted to the change in position. "I think so."

He turned and took a step but when he moved to take another his knees gave way and the world spun alarmingly. Strong hands caught him before he fell and lifted him up so that when the gyrations slowed Frodo found that he was cradled like a child in Elrond's arms. He wanted to protest that this was very undignified for a grown hobbit but a part of him was relieved that he no longer had to put a brave face on matters, and it was that part that won out as the healer carried the little hobbit back to his bed.

At Elrond's gentle touch on his shoulder Sam stirred.

"Your master needs you, Samwise."

The words were all Sam needed to bring him to full wakefulness. "What's wrong?" He rose quickly and knelt at Frodo's side, alarmed to find him pale and shivering despite the extra blankets and what appeared to be Lord Elrond's cloak covering him.

"I'm sorry, Sam . . . so cold," was all Frodo could manage around chattering teeth.

The elven lord touched Sam's shoulder again and the hobbit looked up at him, face filled with fear.

"He will be well, Samwise. I want you to place some large stones to heat in the fire and boil some water. I will need to make some tea for Frodo. When the stones are hot wrap them in cloths and we will set them around him. Elladan will help you." When Sam seemed reluctant to leave his friend's side he added, "As quickly as you may, please."

Common sense took over, as it was ever wont to do with Sam, and he left quickly to carry out Elrond's bidding.

The healer knelt at Frodo's side and laid his left hand upon his brow. His right rested on his knee and so it was that the hobbit first saw Vilya, the ring of sapphire, the ring of air and one of the three elven rings, upon the third finger. It glowed with an inner light that seemed to increase even as Frodo watched and with its waxing he felt warmth seeping into his body from Elrond's palm. Frodo took a deep breath as his body's trembling slowed and his heart stopped hammering in his chest. The pale blue glow of Vilya waned and Elrond's hand was lifted from his head.

Tucking the covers more closely about his charge's shoulders, the healer leaned close, his mellifluous voice seeming to float directly into Frodo's mind. "Better now?"

Frodo nodded. "Much better. Thank you."

"You will say nothing of what you have just seen." It was not a request but a statement.

The ex-Ringbearer looked into the deep grey eyes of the elven Ringbearer. "I thought that the three rings would lose their power with the destruction of the One."

Elrond's smile was small and wistful. "The rings were ever only a means of focussing the power of those who held them. There will be a time of fading now. I sense it already but I have strength enough to wield Vilya yet. Power enough to aid you tonight at least."

Having stopped shaking and feeling quite relaxed in the warmth of the blankets; Frodo was already beginning to feel drowsy and was stifling a yawn when the tent flap opened and Elladan entered, carrying a small wooden box, which he handed wordlessly to his father. With a small smile to Frodo he left on silent feet.

The healer opened the box and began to sort through various small packets within, his elven sight easily reading their labels in the dim light. Selecting one, he set it on his knee and laid the box aside.

Again the tent flap parted and Sam and Elladan returned with arms full of oddly shaped parcels. These were placed at Elrond's side and he supervised Sam in their placement beneath the covers and around Frodo, particularly at his left side. The warmth of the cloth wrapped stones surrounding him helped Frodo relax even further and he sighed with relief as he uncurled and luxuriated in the heat, feeling truly warm for the first time in days.

Elladan returned with a cup of hot water and Elrond emptied the contents of the sachet on his lap into it, swirling the dried herbs briefly before setting it aside to steep for a few minutes. Sam sat down on his bed once more, watching, and curiosity got the better of him.

"What's in the cup, sir? If I may be so bold as to ask."

Elrond smiled and Frodo could not help but echo it when he heard the elf reply.

"Only camomile tea, Master Samwise. No elven magic, I am afraid."

Sam looked a little disappointed.

"Would you be kind enough to go and ask Elladan to fetch my honey for it?" added Lord Elrond.

"Yes sir, right away." Sam fairly leapt from his bed and returned only moments later with a small, tightly stoppered earthenware jar and a silver spoon. Elrond held out the cup and Sam added two spoons of honey and stirred the tea.

Gently cradling Frodo's head on his arm, Elrond offered the warm camomile tea. It smelled wonderfully of toffee and Frodo swallowed it gratefully, unaware until then that his throat felt quite sore and dry. By the time the cup was empty he was having trouble staying awake to swallow and when Elrond finally lowered his head back into he soft cushions he slipped easily into sleep.

Settling himself cross-legged at Frodo's side, Elrond made himself comfortable and laid his hand lightly on his patient's breast.

"Begging your pardon, Master Elrond, but I can look after Mr Frodo now if you want to take some rest yourself," came Sam's hushed voice from behind him.

Elrond's lyrical whisper stole quietly across the distance between them. "I do not need to sleep, Samwise." The elf lord's eyes grew distant and Vilya flickered dimly. "You, however, do require rest. I suggest you lie down and sleep."

Sam yawned and suddenly found that he could hardly sit up. Perhaps he would sleep. Mr Frodo would be safe with Master Elrond and he lay down, falling instantly into a deep sleep. Elladan drew the blankets about him, tucking Frodo's friend in warmly before laying a hand briefly on his father's shoulder and leaving.

The Lord of Imladris nodded in satisfaction and then drew his mind back to the task in hand. His eyes grew hooded as he slipped into Frodo's dreamscape. Walking beside the little hobbit he gently pushed away any dark image that would seek to disturb Frodo's dreams and directed his steps through golden, sunlit valleys and silvered moon-washed meadows.