Smoke and Mirrors
Chapter One

Intense pain.

All he could feel was the pain, like a knife in his head, his neck and traveling along his spine. The agony overcame him and he released a feral scream that seemed to take the last breath from his body. Hands. Voices. ORCS!! A figure towered over him speaking the dark language. He tried to pull away, but could do little except curl in on himself and hope that somehow, he would simply cease to be in the eyes of the foul creature. But as he curled, another agonized scream tore from his parched lips. The pain was an ecstasy in and of itself. It had life and energy and it stabbed relentlessly along the back of his head, neck and back. He was sure that if he were to look back he would see one of the fell blades protruding from his spine. The orc loomed closer trying to uncurl his small frame, he screamed again and then all went black --- a paradise compared to the preceding moments, he lost consciousness.

"Frodo...Frodo it is alright. I am a healer. My name is Saleth. I must bathe you to lower the fever." The ringbearer only cringed and screamed, his eyes impossibly wide, his face a rictus of torment and anguish. Saleth again tried to gather the small man into his arms, to straighten his legs better to cool him with the scented cloths, but Frodo continued to fight him, however weakly. He keened a high wail then lost consciousness.

"How is he fairing, Saleth?" A husky voice inquired from behind the healer.

"He is in great pain and has a high fever, my King." Saleth bowed to his liege lord.

Aragorn dismissed the action with a wave of his hand. "What is the cause of his suffering? I know he has endured much, and carries many wounds but this seems extreme, even for the battering his small form has sustained." said Aragorn looking concernedly at his small friend. His hand went to Frodo's forehead, and drew back quickly. He looked with alarm at Saleth. "Have you examined him thoroughly?" he asked.

"I have, my Lord. He is extremely undernourished and has numerous abrasions, including whip welts on his torso, an odd bite mark on the back of his neck, and then there's the missing ring finger. I have had extreme difficulty examining him. He fights me at every turn. He is delirious because of his fevered state and seems to think I am an orc."

Aragorn smiled grimly, " An orc."

"Yes, my Liege-- he has stated on numerous occasions to 'stay away and keep my filthy orc hands off of him'." Saleth grimaced.

"Let us re-examine him together while he is unconscious. We 'orcs' should stick together, after all" Aragorn gave a weak smile.

"As you wish, my Lord." Aragorn and Saleth removed the covers and began examining the frail hobbit. Aragorn was again stricken at how thin his friend was. There were bruises and cuts covering most of his body. His large hairy feet were scored with deep slices on the pads that he had incurred while climbing the rock slope of Orodruin with Sam. Burn marks were on his legs and arms; all were slathered in salve and bandaged. His right hand was wrapped in a large wad of gauze and he had whelp marks all along his back. Bruises in various hues of yellow and purple bore further testimony to the orcs cruel treatment of this gentle creature. Aragorn was moved to tears as his eyes lit on each injury. Frodo had endured so much. Would he ever really recover? If the physical injuries were anything like what he would have deal with what of the mental anguish that was sure to haunt him?

"My Liege, if this is too hard for you, I can continue the examination alone." Saleth spoke with concern for his new King. The King seemed almost overcome with what he was witnessing.

"No, he is our savior, I would be honored to succor his wounds, physically and mentally. We owe him so much," whispered Aragorn. "Lets see if we can look down his throat, then we'll examine his ears, and listen to his breathing and heart." Aragorn spoke in a more clinical manner.

"Yes, my Lord." Saleth placed his hands on either side of Frodo's small mouth and pried it open. Using a small wooden spoon they forced his tongue flat and tipped his head back a little.

"Hmm," said Aragorn. "I think we have found the main source of his fever...see, the infection, the white spots at the back of his throat? It is also very inflamed. I would apply a tincture--do you have any? We could do it before he awakens." Aragorn looked up at Saleth.

"Yes, my Lord--tincture of iodine." he reached for the bottle. Aragorn applied it to a small cloth pad and began painting the red and swollen throat.

"There, we must give him teas with the poppy extract, athelas and willow bark to ease the pain and stop the infection. Also it will induce sleep. But remember, he should receive a child's dose, maybe less, due to his size" Aragorn instructed. Saleth knew these things, but it was obviously important for the King to take part in the healing of his friend, so he was not offended. The King was a gifted healer and Saleth was honored at his presence here with the halflings. "He should be immersed in tepid--not hot, not cold--baths every hour. We don't want the fever to rise any higher or he could have seizures and, of course, more delirium. You may have to restrain him," Aragorn murmured, stroking the damp curls back from Frodo's sweaty face.

"Yes, my Lord, but what of the teas and the tincture? He fights me so," Saleth lamented.

"The tincture must be applied every hour or so, the opiate and athelas should subdue him allowing you to work. What of the others?" he asked.

"Sam, Meriadoc and Peregrine are all resting ... they have their nightmares, but my staff are with them always and soothe them back to slumber. Their wounds are healing slowly. Once they awaken, we can begin feeding them heavier broths and solid foods. We have been giving them all cool water, and light broths but we have to sit them up to insure they do not choke," replied Saleth

"Call for me anytime, day or night, if any of them should awaken or need me" replied Aragorn.

Saleth nodded, "Of course, my Liege." Frodo groaned and twisted to lie on his side. He gasped at the unexpected stab in his back and head. Aragorn and Saleth turned quickly towards the sound.

"Saleth, do you have any of the teas we discussed on hand?"

"Yes, my Lord. I have hot water and can steep them quickly."

"Then do so, we must get him to drink more. And add honey...they love honey" Aragorn murmured. Aragorn turned back to his friend while Saleth began steeping the tea. "Frodo...Frodo, can you hear me? It's Strider."

Frodo's face was screwed up in pain. He could hear the orc, one was so near he could smell him. Carefully he slit his eyes to see, hoping the orc wouldn't notice. The orc leaned down close to his face and smiled---Frodo's eyes flew open and he attempted to back away, eliciting a sharp pain in his spine. "Ahhhh" he screamed, "Stay away! Neither you nor your master will get anything from me" he gasped clutching for the ring at his chest.

"Frodo, you're delirious, the Ring is destroyed. I am your friend. No harm will ever come to you again." Deep concern filled Aragorn's face. He reached out towards Frodo but was batted away with feeble swats.

"Don't touch me. This is an illusion of the ring, you want it for yourself, but you'll not have it, Dark Servant of Sauron! I will destroy It and myself if needs be" he shrieked.

"Saleth, the tea NOW!" yelled Aragorn.

"Your pardon, my King, here it is" Saleth hurriedly approached the bed.

"You will lean him against your chest while I try to get him to drink the tea" said Aragorn.

"Now Frodo, you are very ill. You must drink this tea. Will you do this for your King?" whispered Aragorn.

"King! You are no ones King. You are a mere minion to Sauron. I would die before I drank your foul drought," gasped Frodo. He was growing weaker but had a decidedly determined look in his eyes.

"The hard way, then," grimaced Aragorn. "Never fear, Saleth, I have had dealings with this stubborn hobbit before. You will need to hold him tightly--he is weak, but he has a strong force of will". Saleth moved up behind Frodo. Frodo saw him approaching and tried to scoot away, but the bed was in a corner and soon he too, was cornered.

"Stay away...stay away...stay away," he whimpered like a mantra. He tried to kick at Saleth but his legs would not cooperate, only moving sluggishly in the general direction of the would be 'predator'. His eyes darted back and forth between the two "orcs". Saleth had him cornered and grabbed and wrapped his arms around the hobbit, pulling him to his chest. Frodo struggled weakly trying to bite Saleth's arms and hands. Saleth was stronger and quicker than Frodo and easily out-maneuvered him, engulfing the hobbit by wrapping his legs around Frodo's and his arms pinning the hobbit's to his sides in a most undignified pose. "No. No, no more. Please, don't make me ...please" murmured Frodo. He was weakening and tears were rolling down his face, his eyes shining. Aragorn felt a fresh wave of pity as he looked at this small creature, but did not let it deter him from his task. The tea had cooled so he pried open Frodo's mouth by pinching both sides together and quickly poured in a small amount of the medicine. Frodo's reaction was immediate, spraying it all back into Aragorn's face. A weak but satisfied smile appeared on Frodo's face.

"So...I can play that way too, my friend." said Aragorn wiping tea and spittle from his face. Again he moved on Frodo. He instructed Saleth to hold both of Frodo's small hands in one of his larger ones and pinch Frodo's nose shut with the other. Saleth looked dubious, but did as he was told. Aragorn again forced open the hobbit's mouth, pouring in a portion of the tea and then quickly tilted Frodo's head slightly and rubbed his throat. The hobbit struggled vainly, eyes going wide in panic and pain. Eventually, he swallowed in order to breathe again. This continued until the cup was drained. All three were exhausted by the time one cup of tea had been forced down the hobbit.

"A strong foe" exclaimed Saleth.

"You have no idea," returned Aragorn. Frodo had slipped into a glassy-eyed stare and was mumbling ' Sam, help me ...Sam...Help...me' over and over to himself. Saleth released him and laid him back onto the pillows. Aragorn turned to him, "Since I am covered in tea anyway, how about bathing him now?"

Saleth, looking tired and defeated replied, "Yes, my Lord."

Frodo was placed in the bath of tepid water. His eyes were still open but he was obviously wandering on another plain of existence. They submerged all of him save his face, and kept him in the bath, re-warming it as it cooled, until his tiny fingers and toes were pruny. He was then swaddled in fluffy towels, dried and dressed in a clean (hobbit sized) nightshirt and laid on fresh sheets and pillows. He felt slightly cooler to Aragorn's trained hands and had finally slipped into a drugged sleep.

"Check on him often, get help to give him his medicines or tie him down. Let me know how the fever fairs at regular intervals and let us hope it's just a throat infection and nothing more." Aragorn said as he stood to leave. Saleth bowed as Aragorn departed and turned to look at his charges. Merry and Pippin were stirring and the healers were giving them water, teas and, as needed, chamber pots. Sam was still sleeping but a healer was holding him up and giving him slow sips of water, which trickled down his throat. Saleth watched as he swallowed. His gaze rested lastly on the Ringbearer, the high color of fever on his cheeks made him look to have received too much sun. He twisted and murmured in pain, but did not awaken. This will be a very long night, thought Saleth.

To be continued…