Title: What May Come
Author: Frodo Baggins of Bag End (FrodoAtBagEnd – FBoBE/"Febobe")
E-mail: febobe at yahoo dot com
Characters: Celebrian, Frodo, Elrond; Gandalf, Bilbo, various others.
Rating: PG-13 or so. It's probably just PG-13, generally, but I don't know angstiness and h/c level for every single chapter yet. This chapter - the prologue - is really just about PG or so.
Summary: Frodo's healing in the West is not as he had hoped. . .and yet it is more; in Tol Eressea he finds a new home and family, and a different kind of healing...
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: The interpretation, of course, is purely mine and was touched upon in "The Memory of Taste" (original publication of first chapter 1/18/03)...others may disagree, or may share this view, but this is an old project of mine and simply a view I hold.

Of special note, I have found two soups which put me in mind of Narien's special creamy tomato soup. Originally, what I had in mind was Campbell's creamy tomato in the Soup on the Go (used to be Soup at Hand) cups, but now that I've had the much more exquisite Amy's cream of tomato, I recommend it. If you're not as weak as Frodo, crushed or mini saltine crackers are good in either. :)

Warning: pure fluff (sometimes angst-filled, sometimes not) written for its own sake. It's not intended to have a grand plot. Lots of Frodo h/c in this, though, and child-like Frodo, so if you like that, you'll enjoy this, especially if you like food detail! If you don't. . .my apologies; to each her (or his) own taste. :) I make absolutely no claims whatsoever that this is a canonically thematic portrayal of the West, though I have attempted to follow some canonical points, at least, of what we know, including that there was never a guarantee of how Frodo's healing would come, if it did, but that he might seek it there. . .as well as in some other matters, such as some of the book's characters actually being there at this time. Beyond those little points, I'm not even attempting to create a canonically purist story. This is purely for pleasure.

For permission to reproduce any part of this fanfic, please e-mail your request to febobe at yahoo dot com.

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 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.

Part XIII: Soup and Shadows

He rested.

At last, he rested, though sometimes his brow would furrow and his body tremble, and then she would gather him closer, and rock him, and sing softly, no songs of heroes, but whimsical songs she knew, though once she sang a hymn to Elbereth, when he seemed to grow restless, and then he stilled, nestling against her with a soft sigh as his breathing evened out.

But Elrond had been right. This was no easy day for him. Exhaustion and chill seemed to overwhelm him, so that long after she had thought he might wake, he still slept, though that, she supposed, was a mercy too, for the more of this terrible anniversary he could sleep through, the better. So she called to Narien and Mornaduial to keep the creamy soup they had made for him warm, and have milk ready to warm when she called, and they agreed.

It was into the afternoon before he stirred enough to open his eyes.

Tithen min, Celebrian called gently. Are you ready for a surprise?

Frodo's lashed fluttered weakly, struggled to open, opened, filled with sorrow and pain…but there was something new there, something Celebrian could not have called anything other than hope.

What is this surprise? came a small reply.

Ah, but you shall have to wait and see! Celebrian beamed as Narien brought in a little tray, setting it on the table by the rocking-chair. But you need only wait a moment. Do you enjoy tomato?

Frodo's eyes lit up through the pain. I love tomato, he replied. Is there something with tomato?

Try this. Celebrian took up the feeding-cup with Narien's creamy tomato soup* and touched it to Frodo's lips. He nursed…and after the first sip, she caught a smile.

"That is…so good," he said aloud, evoking a smile from Narien as well as Celebrian. "I did not think I was hungry. I am never hungry on October the sixth."

"Perhaps we can make some new traditions for October the sixth, happier ones." Celebrian offered a little more, and again Frodo sipped. "What would you like for new traditions?"

"This soup, please. And…" Frodo hesitated, as if pondering. "It will sound silly," he said at last, turning pink.

The sight of that blush melted Celebrian's heart. "Nay," she urged him gently. "Tell me. It cannot be silly if you would like it. I think you have had quite enough of being serious and dutiful, little one."

"I wish…" Frodo faltered again. At last he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. "I wish it could be like my birthday in one way – not in gaiety and celebration, because I do not think October the sixth is anything I can celebrate, but – when I was a tween, Bilbo would let me have whatever food I preferred for my birthday, and special treats, and we would do whatever I wanted, whether I wished to have company or just the two of us, whether I wanted to sleep in and have breakfast in bed, or spend the whole day reading what I pleased, or listen to Bilbo telling me stories of his adventures." He sighed. "Every October sixth since my wounding, I have had things to do. Travel. Or helping Sam and Rosie, since Rosie was expecting. Putting together my memoirs. That sort of thing. I would like to make my anniversaries days when I can do things I want to do, things which bring me relief or even pleasure, not things which make me tired and sad and lonely."

Celebrian felt as if her heart would burst. So little he wanted! Frodo had such simple tastes. How could anyone deny him this wish? "I promise, from this day forward, that you shall have whatever indulgence you wish," she assured him, offering another sip of soup. "What sounds good for the rest of your day? We have many hours to go. My only restriction is that I do not think you ought to be left alone. Someone must be with you at all times…and I shall not leave you, unless you wish for another."

"Please don't go." Frodo's tiny fingers reached up to catch the sleeve of the arm which cradled him, clinging fast. "I only…I only want a warm bath, a soak in a tub, and warm blankets after, and perhaps later something else to eat. I don't want to see Bilbo until this day is past…he does not really understand, and it would only trouble him to see me thus."

"Then we shall send word to him that you are being cared for, and will see him when you are feeling better."

"I shall see it done," Narien interjected softly, and slipped out.

Frodo searched Celebrian's eyes. "Do you think I shall ever feel better?"

Such a difficult question! Ai, tithen min, would that I could promise you the moon and be sure of giving it. But aloud, keeping her inner voice to herself, she said, "I do think so, in time. You have just had a long journey, and today is a terrible day for you. October the seventh will come, and the eighth, and the ninth, and the tenth. Even the dark days must pass…even for you, little one."

At this Frodo smiled, and Celebrian offered him more honeyed milk. The early days here had been so hard for her. She had to hope that this would be a turning point for Frodo.

Mithrandir is asking after Frodo's condition, came a voice in her head – Elrond. May I come back and see him now? I know you will not leave him this day, but I should have a look into how he fares now.

He is taking some liquids. Soup and honeyed milk. Come in if you wish.

Relief tentatively brightened Elrond's voice. I had feared he could not swallow anything before the day passes. Yet again he has surprised me. But then – the first night he was with us, though he seemed almost as one dead, he let me feed him, though he could scarcely swallow for weakness.

See for yourself, then. And Celebrian looked up to see her husband entering, closing the door softly behind him. He smiled as he approached.

"Will you permit me to see how you fare, Frodo?" he asked gently. "I only wish to have a look at your shoulder, and then you may be wrapped back up as warmly as you desire."

Frodo hesitated. "I am so cold without my blankets," he said. "Lady Celebrian's quilt. It is nicer."

"I know, Frodo, but I merely wish to see whether there is aught with the wound we should do more to heal."

"Very well, then." Frodo sighed and burrowed into the blankets, though he let go his grip on them as Celebrian set down the feeding-cup she was holding.

Must we do this? she demanded. He has suffered so already.

I cannot heal what I do not know needs healing, Bri.

It is his fea that is broken. Can you not sense it?

Hesitation in Elrond's voice as he unfastened Frodo's night-shirt. Yes. Of course I can sense it. But I merely wish to see with eyes and sense with hands whether there is aught else we can do to make him comfortable.

Celebrian bit her tongue as her husband probed Frodo's trembling shoulder with his fingers, but he was right. If there was any way they could find to bring Frodo more relief, they must at least investigate. What she was not prepared for, however, was the concern which came into Elrond's eyes as he paused over the white scar.

"Frodo," he said evenly at last, "there is a problem with your healed wound which I could not discern before we came here. The body, too, as well as the fea can carry memories…and your body carries the memory of that night."

Frodo shuddered. "How is that any different?" he asked as Elrond tucked him back up with his blankets in Celebrian's arms.

"It is something we may be able to heal here, with enough help, and so bring you some further relief. But I dare not risk it until you are stronger."

"Oh." Frodo's blue eyes sought Elrond's grey ones. "Will it hurt? Will it be very dangerous?"

"It will be an unpleasant experience, most likely. And there is risk involved. But the reward is so great that I recommend you allow us to try. Bri will help us…won't you, Bri?"

You are not telling him how dangerous it is, replied Celebrian, even as aloud she said, "Of course I will." That it could cost him his life, or his sanity. You must tell him!

When he is stronger, we can discuss it further. At present he is too weak. It would make him worse. Do not tell him until he is better – until he is able to eat solid food and sit up. Only then will I deem him strong enough to learn the truth.

Very well, Celebrian agreed reluctantly. But if you do not tell him then, I will.

-to be continued-

*See Story Notes section, above, for information on how you can most closely replicate Frodo's experience of Narien's creamy tomato soup, outside of making a special recipe yourself.