Title: The Visit

Author: Frodo Baggins of Bag End (FrodoAtBagEnd/FBoBE/"Febobe")

E-mail: febobe at yahoo dot com

Characters: Frodo, Radagast, various others in cameos or secondary roles, including Samwise, Gandalf, Legolas, Thranduil, OC female elven healer (Aduial).

Rating: T for painful and vivid PTSD symptoms as well as memories of violence. Follows FrodoHealers standards - no sexual content, no slashiness, no profanity.

Warnings: Some angst and medical detail. No profanity or sexual content, slash or het. May include memories of violence. No character death or suicidal ideation.

Summary: Following the Quest, Frodo reluctantly consents to visit Legolas's home...but the planned excursion goes horribly wrong when Frodo becomes ill along the way. Appearances by Radagast, Thranduil, and others, including an OC female elven healer (who is NOT Tauriel).

Feedback: Reviews are welcome, but (a) no flaming, please – flames will be used to warm Frodo's chilled body, and (b) I do this as a hobby, for pleasure, so before you take me to task about whether something "isn't canon" or "doesn't feel thematic" or how I left out a comma in paragraph 7 or made a typo in paragraph 3, please ask yourself whether that's really helpful. I'm not interested in being a canon purist or perfect – if I were, I wouldn't write this kind of thing; I'd just leave Frodo alone. In short – if you want to tell me you liked it, by all means, tell me, but if you just want to tell me how much better you would write Frodo, then go write your own stories with Frodo. (And if they're Frodo h/c, and suitable, by all means submit them to FrodoHealers. 😉 We could use some activity over there!)

Story Notes: If you didn't like Radagast in the Peter Jackson Hobbit films, you probably won't like him here. You have been warned! ;)

For permission to reproduce any part of this fanfic, please contact Febobe.

DISCLAIMER: The characters, places, and story of The Lord of the Rings are the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and consequently of the Tolkien Estate, with select rights by Tolkien Enterprises. This piece appears purely as fanfiction and is not intended to claim ownership of Tolkien's work in any way. Please e-mail me if you have concerns. Original characters, such as (but not limited to) Lossmeril, are my own work; please do not use my creations in your work. Please respect my original contributions. Furthermore, please do NOT consider any treatments or remedies within this story safe or effective for use: these are included as fictitious hobbit care, not real human medical practice, and while some can indeed be traced to actual therapeutic practices, could be dangerous. Please consult your health care professional before treating yourself or others for any condition or symptom. No slash is intended or implied in this story.

THE VISIT

Chapter 3: The Hedgehog

"Frodo. Frodo, wake up."

Frodo stirred drowsily. Gandalf was at his bedside, gently patting his arm. For all Frodo's nose was so stuffy, he could vaguely smell mushrooms cooking.

"Is it late?" he asked, yawning and bursting into a cough.

"Not very," said Gandalf, "but late for someone who is very ill. You need to eat, and Radagast has cooked a fine supper, one I think will suit you well."

Sam came over, carrying a plate, which he handed up to Gandalf. "Did you have a nice sleep, sir?" he asked.

Frodo thought for a moment. He had slept uneasily and did not feel at all refreshed. Everything ached, muscles and joints, and he felt shaky with chilliness, but at the same time feverish. His nose was stuffier than ever, and his chest felt sore. His throat hurt even more.

"It's a comfortable bed," he said hoarsely. "But I feel even worse."

"You have pneumonia," said Radagast, coming to the bed. "It is natural. Give it time." He waved a hand of long fingers at the others. "Go on. Eat! I shall feed Frodo."

The others protested, but Radagast insisted, and soon enough Frodo found himself cradled in the crook of Radagast's arm, resting against his chest, as the wizard fed him with a spoon. It was, in fact, rather a good meal even to Frodo, who desperately wished that his nose had not been so stuffy nor his throat so sore. Even swallowing soft foods was painful. But Radagast coaxed scrambled eggs cooked in butter down him, and creamed mushrooms over toast, offering sips of a sharp yet sweet raspberry drink to wash the meal down.

"Raspberries are good for fevers in little ones," Radagast said, "and you are too thin."

Frodo felt painfully aware that he was still too thin. He had been reasonably well-fed and gaining in weight when they left Minas Tirith and Rohan, but along the way he had begun to feel less and less like eating the food of travel. He had been spoiled in Minas Tirith, where they had had a proper little house with a kitchen, and where cooking seemed to bring Sam more joy than anything else. Travel no longer seemed as pleasant as it once had, for every step once weariness set in seemed to call forth old shadows and old memories, and the last two hours of every day seemed to be taken up by fighting off old pains, painful memories. But he did not dare speak of it to anyone. Legolas had been so excited to introduce Bilbo's heir to his father.

"There is much pain in your eyes," said Radagast, lowering his voice kindly, "and I deem it comes not only from your sore throat or aching body, but from deep within you."

Frodo glanced away to make sure Sam and Gandalf were busy with supper, then nodded.

"When you feel a little better, I will see what can be done about that," said Radagast. "But for now, you need only rest. This is not the Road of your past year. There is no urgency."

"I need to get back to Rivendell before winter comes," said Frodo, "and I cannot begin to think how I will manage it."

"There are ways," said Radagast, "and while I cannot take your whole party thus, I would be happy to take you myself, on my sled. You are quite a little fellow, and I imagine you would fit quite nicely, all tucked up with furs and warm blankets to keep you cosy. We could be there within a few days."

"I could not leave my friends behind," said Frodo longingly. The thought of actually travelling with Radagast and his Rhosgobel rabbits was exciting, but he did not wish to be rude.

Radagast smiled. "I think they will love the idea of getting you to Lord Elrond's house more quickly," he said. "First we must nurse you through the pneumonia, and get you through your visit to Thranduil's realm. Then I shall tuck you up and take you to the finest healer that can be found, in Rivendell. You must get well enough to travel, but I will help you, and I know Thranduil's folk will have much of healing to offer you. They *are* elves, after all, my little friend."

Frodo could not help smiling. Radagast had such a calming way about him. He did his best to swallow what the wizard fed him, though gradually he began to feel too full to continue. He did not have to tell Radagast, however - the wizard seemed to discern that much, and slowed his pace.

"Have you had all you can manage?" he asked gently. "If you wish for more later, I will be happy to make you something. And perhaps tomorrow we can make a soup for you. Hot broth will do you good."

Frodo coughed weakly. Radagast set the dish aside and rose, returning with cloths and a basin. Setting it down, he wrung out a compress and laid it across Frodo's brow. It was pleasantly warm and damp, cool enough to be soothing but warm enough to avoid chilling him further.

"I will make you a cup of chamomile tea with a bit of catnip," said Radagast. "And I will sit by you tonight, and watch over your sleep."

"I'll be all right," said Frodo. "I'll try to sleep."

Radagast looked at him gravely. "I know you will try, little friend," he said, "but you are very ill. You need someone to nurse you through the night. That is what I can do for you."

"Thank you. I - I am sorry to arrive sick and useless."

Radagast shook his head. "Oh, you are the farthest thing from useless, Frodo Baggins. What use is the hedgehog? Yet he may be the dearest of friends. And you have done far more than any of the hedgehogs I have known, valiant though they are. I think you have more than earned the right to rest." He lowered his voice. "I do not think Prince Legolas understands what he has asked of you. It is not his fault that he does not understand, but for all his kind nature, he is of the Firstborn, and sometimes he forgets that others do not heal so swiftly or so completely."

"Legolas has proven himself many times over," said Frodo.

"Indeed," said Radagast, "yet even so, he is not without his weaknesses. I think he understands now, and no doubt he will make amends as best he can. But for now, you are better off here. Rest."

-to be continued-