Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: Set Backs and Bonds Forged (#280)
Author: Coriandra
Chapters: 6

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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: A minor set back on Caradhas almost has deadly consequences, but leads to a time of bonding and introspection for the Fellowship
Published: 08 Sep 2003
Updated: 26 Oct 2003
Warnings:
Type: Angst
Characters: Sam; Aragorn; Frodo


Chapter 1 - Chapter one

“SAM!” Frodo’s cry echoed off the mountainside and continued to hang in the cold, dry air as Sam lay on the frozen ground coughing uncontrollably. Frodo was at his side in a heartbeat, holding him close and trying to shelter him from the icy wind. If there was any question in Sam’s mind about the appropriateness of this, it vanished faster than the mist each time he exhaled. His throat burned, his sides felt like they were being torn apart and the rest of his body felt completely drained of energy.

The Fellowship, with the exception of Aragorn who was absent, turned instantly and began to gather around the two hobbits, almost as alarmed as Frodo. They had, ironically been debating what effect Caradhas was going to have on the Hobbits when they got to the top, but now they had a more immediate concern. Boromir was the first to reach Sam and Frodo. Gandalf joined him by their side a minute later.

“What happened here?” Boromir asked, sounding more abrupt than he meant to.

“Sam and I were making lunch,” Frodo explained, his expressive blue eyes dancing frantically, “then he started shaking, and naturally I thought he was cold so I turned to get him a warm cape from one of our packs. Then he started to cough so hard that he collapsed.”

Sam tried to speak, but again coughed violently when he took a breath. His energy level had been getting lower ever since they had started up Caradhas and it was becoming increasingly hard for him to eat and sleep. He had said nothing about it up until then, not wanting to slow down the rest of the Fellowship and thinking he could get over it using his own strength, being accustomed to hard work. Now, however, he was genuinely sick and could no longer deny it.

“Breath through this,” Gandalf advised, tucking a scarf lightly around Sam’s mouth and nose. “The warmer air should make your breathing a bit easier”

“Where is…” Boromir snapped his head up to look at the Fellowship.

“Aragorn was scouting up ahead,” Gimli replied knowing, of course that was Boromir’s question. “Legolas has already gone to get him.”

“Good.” Boromir exhaled with relief.

Speaking calmly to Sam, Gandalf continued, “ How have you been feeling up until now?”

Sam paused for a minute, gathering up his strength to answer. “Very tired, can’t sleep at night…” Sam pause for minute, saving what little strength he had. “And my throat…” he gasped finally, raising his hand to his neck.

“Hurts?” Boromir asked quietly. Sam nodded with a great deal of effort.

“I have a headache too,” he managed to gasp before as he body was racked by another violent coughing spasm. Boromir and Frodo both supported him until it passed and he fell back into Frodo’s arms, barely conscious. Boromir removed his glove and slipped his hand inside Sam’s shirt to more accurately check his temperature. Again looking relieved, he spoke briefly to Gandalf who then stood and gave some instructions to the rest of the Fellowship. Understandably, neither Frodo nor Sam took much noticed of what was being said. Sam’s hazel eyes were watering miserably and Frodo had closed his own, praying silently as he held his friend close. The rest of the Fellowship gathered their packs and began to make their way back down the path. Boromir gently brushed Sam’s tears away with his ungloved hand and smiled encouragingly at both Hobbits.

“What’s wrong with Sam?” Frodo asked with a quiver in his voice. “Does he have a lung infection?”

“Possibly,” Gandalf replied. Seeing Frodo’s devastated expression he added quickly, “but more likely it was just the cold air and higher altitude that caused this. Do try not to worry.” Although Gandalf was never extensively knowledgeable about healing, he had learned enough over the centuries, largely from his friendship with Elrond to be fairly confident about Sam’s diagnosis.

“Sam, we’re going to take you back to the cave where we slept last night,” Boromir said gently. “Not the best place to be when you’re sick, but at least it’s dry and sheltered. Then we’re going to boil water to make it steamy. That should be a bit easier on your lungs. Aragorn will decide what else to do for you when he gets there.”

Boiling water of course, would mean lighting a fire and going back to the cave would mean backtracking almost a thousand feet. Sam started to protest that it was too great a risk and they lose progress in the quest, but was thrown into yet another coughing spasm and last of his strength failed him. It was almost with relief that he slipped into unconsciousness.


Chapter 2 - Chapter two

The next thing Sam remembered was lying on his side covered with a blanket. A hand gently stroked his arm, a hobbit’s hand no doubt. It was too small to be anything else. It was hard to tell how long he had been asleep, but it must have been for some time, he reasoned because the air was already filled with steam. He could hear the sound of firewood crackling and water boiling. Less distinctly, he could hear Aragorn’s voice. The first voice he heard clearly was that of Merry Brandybuck. Knowing he had failed to make lunch as expected, Sam decided to keep his eyes closed for as long possible.

“Frodo, is he all right?” Merry wanted to know. Strangely, was no irritation in Merry’s voice, only concern. That was unusual. Pippin said nothing, which was even more unusual. Merry was not a patient hobbit when it came to meals, and Pippin was even less so. Sam shivered slightly and tried unsuccessfully to suppress a cough.

“Oh, good! He seems to be waking up now. How are you feeling, Sam?” asked Merry. Pippin, who was sitting next to Merry, still said nothing. He just looked at Sam with his expression one of both anxiety and sadness.

“I’m all right now….I guess,” Sam replied, at a loss as to what to think of this. Legolas, who had been tending the fire and Gimli, who was splitting kindling, both stopped what they were doing as soon as he spoke and looked over at him with concern. Aragorn, who been talking to Boromir and Gandalf near the cave’s entrance, removed his gloves and came over to the fire, giving Sam a smile as he warmed his hands. Not used to being to centre of attention in anything but a negative way, the shy Hobbit blushed and instinctively moved closer to Frodo who sitting next him. Frodo, noticing this also smiled at him and held out his hand.

“I…I’m sorry everyone,” Sam said, looking down at the cave floor. “I’m late making lunch and we got set back on the quest 'cause of this.”

“Oh Sam!” Frodo laughed gently and put his arm around Sam’s shoulder. “You were sick, it wasn’t your fault.”

“No Sam, it was mine,” the Ranger told him. “As a healer I should have been watching for this, knowing that hobbits don’t do well at higher altitudes.”

“Well, I forgive you,” Sam replied trying to sound cheerful and mask his anxiety, “and as I told Mr. Merry, I’m feeling all right now, so I think I’ll finish making lunch. Then we can be on our way again.” Immediately, Frodo’s arm went from a comforting hold to a restraining one and he and Merry gave a Sam a reproachful look.

“He does seem to be better,” Frodo told Aragorn, “and Gandalf seems to think the problem was caused by the change in the altitude and the cold, not a serious illness.” Sam nodded his head in agreement, which he regretted immediately. As soon he did, his head started to ache again.

“Well, let’s find out if Gandalf was correct, shall we?” Aragorn suggested, smiling again as he went over to the Hobbits. Sam’s eyes widened noticeably and he would have pulled away if he could.

“Mr. Frodo…?” he began, but immediately let his voice break off not knowing how to continue and aware that nothing he could say would make a difference anyway.

“Mr. Frodo is staying right here with you,” Aragorn promised gently. “It would hardly be possible to separate you two, as Lord Elrond so rightly pointed out.”

“Well said, Aragorn!” Gandalf exclaimed. “Now the rest of us should wait outside and give Master Samwise some privacy.” Legolas, Gimli and Boromir left with no other direction. Merry got up slowly, but Pippin stayed were he was, still unnaturally quiet.

“Come Pip,” Merry said, gently lifting Pippin to his feet. “Don’t worry, Sam is going to be just fine.”

“Really, Merry?” Pippin asked, his voice barely audible.

“Of course he is. Strider will look after him,” Frodo assured his cousin but Pippin still hesitated.

“And you know Frodo will take good care of him too. He would never abandon Sam,” Merry pointed out. That seemed to satisfy Pippin. His eyes lit up noticeably and his voice became cheerful again.

“Good bye Sam,” he called over his shoulder as he happily followed Merry outside. “Get well soon, all right? We need you!”
______________________________


Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

“Oh Sam!” Frodo soothed, “Just relax; Strider is a good healer. Don’t you remember how well he took care of me at…” Sam cringed and inhaled sharply. “…Weathertop?” Frodo gulped realized his mistake but knowing it was too late to correct it.

Aragorn, who had just looked in Sam’s ears and throat and was listening to his breathing and heartbeat, stopped what he was doing and looked up. “That was very traumatic for you wasn’t it, Sam?” he asked quietly.

Sam blushed and began squirm. “Traumatic, sir? Well not really,” he said, referring to the examination. “I don’t much like it of course, but I understand it’s something that needs to be done.”

“You know what I mean, Sam, I was talking about Weathertop,” Aragorn said, more firmly. “I wasn’t particularly supportive of you during that time and I’ve been wondering since then if you got the emotional support you needed anywhere else.”

“That wasn’t a real issue was it, sir?” replied Sam, who had been trying not to think about that terrible incident. “And anyway, you had to take of Mr. Frodo, that was the important thing.”

“You’re important too, Sam,” Frodo told him. “I couldn’t have survived that without you.” Sam looked up him confused. “It was Strider that saved me from those Nazguls, and treated my wound with Athelas, but you gave me strength to hold on until we got to Rivendell. All those small things you did for me and that song that you sang about the Troll helped me think about something besides the pain I was feeling. There was no way I could have endured it otherwise.”

“Exactly, Sam,” Aragorn confirmed. “I noticed it was you, more than anyone that kept his spirits up. It may not have seem like much to you, but it was as important as anything I could have done.” Sam considered this with amazement. From time to time he had doubts about his place in the Fellowship and even whether he should be there, but now it was clear to him. He had done the right in coming even if it initially been for the wrong reason.

“Now I have some good news,” the Ranger announced. “Gandalf was right, Sam. You have Acute Mountain Sickness, AMS for short. It’s not serious, in fact it should be gone by tomorrow. you just need to rest and give your body time to adjust to this new environment. I’ll treat your symptoms in the meantime to make you more comfortable.”

***************

The rest of Fellowship meanwhile, was waiting anxiously for Aragorn to come out. When he finally did and was smiling, everyone except Pippin relaxed a bit.

“Did you find out what was wrong with him, Strider?” Pippin demanded, wide-eyed as he jumped to his feet. Aragorn nodded, smiling reassuring at the anxious young Hobbit.

“Nothing to worry, Pippin,” Aragorn assured him. “He just has a mild case of Acute Mountain Sickness brought on by the altitude and the cold, just as Gandalf said.”

“So, is he going to all right?” Pippin asked, still not ready to get his hopes up.

“He’s going to be just fine after resting for a day,” Aragorn promised. “He won’t even be too uncomfortable. I already have some medicine prepared for his symptoms.”

“Good!” Pippin replied, happy again. “Oh, did I ever tell you about the time I fell into a lake and got a really bad cold? I don’t know of course, but I think the way I felt was the same way Sam feels now. And I recovered just fine too, as you can see.” Aragorn listened patiently as Pippin chattered non-stop about that incident.

****************

Back in the cave, Frodo tended to Sam following the Ranger’s instructions. He put more wood on the fire and refilled the pot that was getting low on water. When he was finished Sam, who had been sleeping lightly opened his eyes and coughed again.

“Oh you’re awake!” Frodo exclaimed, sounding cheerful but a bit nervous as he quickly returned to his friend’s side. “Good. I’m going to help you sit up a bit, if I may. Semi sitting is the best position to be in while you’re awake, according to Strider mind you. I don’t understand why exactly. Are you comfortable?” he asked when he had finished. Sam nodded. “Good,” Frodo said looking relieved. Because he never taken care of anyone who was sick before, he wanted to be sure he was doing everything right. “Now I have to give you some of this medicine Strider made.” He held a small jar filled with thick, dark paste.

“Ah…all right, Mr. Frodo, but what’s in it?” Sam asked as he looked at it apprehensively, knowing medicine very seldom tasted pleasant.

“It has quite a number of things in it,” Frodo replied, “let me think for a minute. Oh yes. It has willow, rosemary and licorice for your sore throat and your headache, thyme, slippery elm and wild cherry bark and mullein for your coughing, valerian to help you relax…” Sam looked dismayed for second. Frodo smiled sympathetically. “Yes I know how you feel about that, I don’t like just sitting around either. But you need your rest to get better and I need you with me, just as Strider said. Now, what else is in this? Oh yes, echinacea.”

Sam looked confused. “I never heard of that,” he said. “What is it?”


“Those purple coneflowers back in the Shire,” Frodo explained. “The leaves and roots are apparently very useful for treating infections and for preventing them. Strider wants you to have that as precaution. And the herbs are all mixed in honey, so it shouldn’t taste too bad.” Sam didn’t look convinced, but when Frodo handed him the tablespoon of medicine he swallowed bravely.

“So, how often do I have to take this?” he asked, after taking a few gulps of water to wash it down.

“Not for another four hours at least,” Frodo said reassuringly

“And for how long?” he asked doubtfully.

“Sam, all these questions!” Frodo teased gently. “You used to be such a sensible young hobbit, now you’re getting to be like me!

“Really? How wonderful!” Sam laughed.

“Your family might think otherwise,” Frodo reminded him with a smile tugging at corner of his lips. Sam didn’t care, that statement had made his day. It made Frodo’s day too, to see him feeling better. Everything was all right now, and it would get better soon. “As for how long you need it, it will just be until you get over this, so you’ll probably only need one more dose or two.”

****************

Things were going equally smoothly outside the cave where Gandalf and Aragorn had assigned the others their work duties. Boromir was keep watch while, Merry and Pippin were making supper and Legolas and Gimli fetched water and unpacked the equipment. Aragorn and Gandalf would share the watch duty that night so that Aragorn could check on Sam frequently

“So it was just a mild case of AMS?” Gandalf asked Aragorn as they helped gather up the cooking utensils that were no longer being used.

“Oh yes, I’ve seen cases that were very much worse,” Aragorn replied. The rest of the Fellowship had finally gotten over their shock and were about to enjoy the meal. It was quite different from the way Sam prepared it, but no one complained. Pippin and Merry had done a good job.

“And do you have enough left of everything, or should we try to gather more herbs after dinner?” Gandalf continued.

“We should be all right for now, but let me check just to make sure,” Aragorn replied. He emptied the healing kit and began to take an inventory of what he had. As he did, a small black box fell at his feet. He looked at it quizzically for a second, then opened it and found two clearly marked bottles inside.

I don’t remember bringing this, he thought. Elrond must have put it in, just in case. He shrugged and put it aside. When he had finished his inventory, he made a few mental notes on what was lacking, then gathered some food to take to Frodo and Sam.

******************************

“Sam, are you all right?” Frodo asked, noticing that he seemed uncomfortable

“I’m all right, Mr. Frodo,” he replied. “I just got a little itchy all of a sudden.

“Itchy?” Frodo looked at him with surprise and bewilderment.

“I don’t why, it just came on suddenly. And I feel kind of stuffed up too.”

“Really?” Frodo laid his hand on Sam’s brow, becoming concerned. “I’m not a healer, but your temperature seems to be normal. Let me loosen your clothes, that might help bit. Then we’ll have Strider look at you again.”

Sam was about to object to the last statement when Aragorn entered, carrying two large bowls of vegetables and dry meat. “Is there a problem?” he asked, setting the bowls aside and picking up the lantern.

“Well….I…” Sam began. “It’s really nothing I’m sure, but I….” He looked nervously at Frodo, who smiled encouragingly but said nothing. Clearly he was going to have to explain this himself. Aragorn looked at him attentively, so he took as deep a breath as he could and tried again.

“I was feeling all right for a while, but then I starting to get kind of itchy and it got harder to breath. It’s like, I caught a cold all of sudden.”

“You probably did, Sam,” Aragorn told him. “I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but let me make sure.” Frodo took Sam’s hand and smiled reassuringly, feeling it tighten as Aragorn again checked Sam’s vital signs and listened to his chest.

“You do seem to have a bit of a cold,” he announced when he had finished. “So what I would suggest is a cup of echinacea tea to keep it from getting worse. It might quicken your recovery, too.” He scooped some boiling water in a cup and went to get some of the herb. “Let that steep for about ten minutes,” he instructed when he returned with it and placed it in the cup. “Drink it all just as soon as it gets cool enough and let me know when you finished it.”

The Hobbits ate their meal while they waited, then Sam dutifully drank the tea as fast as he could, not liking the taste of it much but expecting to feel better afterwards. Instead, to his surprised, the cave began to spin and he immediately wished he hadn’t eaten that meal.

“Sam, are you all right?” Frodo asked, noticing immediately that something was wrong.

“Mr. Frodo….I…I..think I’m going to be sick,” he gasped.

“You think…? Oh dear!” Frodo got up quickly and grabbed the nearest pot he could find. “Here Sam, do what you have to.” He turned Sam on his side and rubbed his back soothingly as he wretched violently.

“All right now?” he asked, as he gently wiped Sam’s mouth when it was over, sympathetic to his obvious embarrassment. Sam didn’t answer. “Sam?” Frodo asked, becoming more concerned. Still there was no response. Greatly alarmed now, Frodo quickly rolled him onto his back. “Sam?” he almost screamed.

Sam was turning bright red and his eyes were bulging. “I…can’t breathe!” he gasped.


Chapter 4 - Chapter 4

Hide

“Aragorn!” Frodo shouted, trying not to panic. Aragorn and Gandalf entered the cave without a second’s hesitation, followed closely by Boromir and the rest of the Fellowship. Frodo was shaking badly, but somehow able to keep his composure as Sam lay in his arms, gasping for air. Gandalf gently pulled Frodo aside and tried to comfort him. Aragorn carefully laid Sam on his back while Legolas brightened the lantern and held it in the position that gave the most light to the area. Gimli noticed Pippin crying hysterically in a dark corner. Merry was trying to calm him, but Pippin would have none of that, so the Dwarf went over to see what he could do.

“I…feel… Sam gasped. “like there’s… a…a…rope tightening around my neck and my chest, and it’s pulled sharply every time I breath!”

“What happened here, Frodo?” Aragorn asked, trying to take Sam’s vital signs but encountering great resistance from the panic strickened Hobbit even as Boromir tried to restrain and calm him.

“I don’t know,” Frodo answered speaking calmly, but with great difficulty. “Sam was starting to feel better, he even slept for a short time. Then I gave him the medicine and the problems started about fifteen minutes after that.”

“Problems? You mean the cold symptoms?” Aragorn asked, still trying to figure out what had happened. It made no sense for this to happen to a healthy, strong young hobbit, even one with AMS. Of course, Sam’s condition may have been more serious than he was willing to admit, but Aragorn had seen no evidence of that.

“The itching too; in fact that was the first thing I noticed,” Frodo added. Aragorn looked at Sam, who confirmed this with a nod, even though his breathing was even more shallow and laboured than it had been. Itching! Of course, that explained it! The Ranger cursed himself in both Elvish and Dwarvish for not thinking of that. Frodo, understanding some Elvish, looked up in disbelief. Gimli and Legolas looked shocked for minute but then would have laughed if the situation hadn’t been so critical.

“Aragorn, the Hobbits,” Gandalf admonished.

“They don’t understand,” Aragorn pointed out, not seeing Frodo’s reaction as he grabbed the black box from his bag. “Excuse the language, Legolas and Gimli, but I feel very upset with myself at this time.” Sam was barely conscious. His face was beginning to turn blue.

“Open his shirt!” Aragorn ordered. When Boromir complied, Aragorn took a deep breath and firmly rubbed some thick liquid from the smaller bottle into Sam’s chest. A cool, slightly bitter scent filled the air as Boromir and Aragorn moved back slightly avoid been overcome by the vapours.

Sam’s eyes became almost impossibly wide. He gasped painfully and began to cough even more violently than he had in the freezing wind. As Frodo buried his face in Gandalf’s robe, trying not to break down, Aragorn turned Sam on his side and placed another empty pot next to his mouth, looking strangely relieved. Within minutes, the pot was filled with mucus, along with the rest of Sam’s stomach contents.

There was collective sigh of relief as the coughing finally subsided. Sam began to breathe more easily and his colouring returned to normal. As Legolas removed both pots, seemingly unfazed, Aragorn carefully laid Sam on his back, speaking gently to him as he trembled, trying to comprehend what had just happened to him. Frodo, of course wanted to rush to his side, but Gandalf continued to hold to him, giving Frodo time to recover somewhat from his own shock. Boromir lifted Sam’s feet and slipped one of the packs under them. Aragorn wrapped Sam up warmly after he had assessed his condition and was satisfied that it was stable. Then he nodded for Frodo to come.

“Hello, Sam,” Frodo whispered, as if he thought speaking out loud might shatter Sam’s fragile recovery. Sam, while still too weak to move, managed to smile when Frodo came into his line of vision. Frodo lifted Sam’s head gently and laid it on his lap. “Thank you, Aragorn and Boromir for saving his life,” Frodo said, his voice about to break again, “thank you all very much for everything.”

“You’re very welcome, Frodo,” Aragorn replied, warmly touching Frodo’s shoulder. Sam weakly nodded his thanks too and gradually began to relax. The rest of Fellowship began relax as well. Over in the corner, Merry collapsed with relief. Gimli managed to catch him just before he hit the ground. Everything seemed under control now.

“Well, that was really something, wasn’t Pip?” Merry said with a laugh. Pippin gave no response however. “Pippin?” Still no answer came. Puzzled, Merry moved closer and reach out to him. This time he did get a response. For the first time in his life, Pippin deliberately knocked Merry’s hand off his shoulder and turned away angrily.

“Don’t touch me!” he hissed, stomping from the cave without a backward glance as the rest of the Fellowship stared after him in shock.

___________________

A/N: For those of you wondering what Aragorn used on Sam, it was the essential oils of two plants: lobelia (ironically enough), a bronchial dilator sometimes used as an alternative treatment for asthma and ephedra, a plant source of epinephrine, the present day treatment for this type of serious reaction. The larger bottle contains a tincture of the same liquid to be taken internally.


Chapter 5 - Chapter 5

“Pip!” Merry dashed out after Pippin, hurt and confused. “Pippin, why are you acting this?”

Pippin spun around and glared at his cousin. “You lied to me Merry,” he declare hotly.

“Lied to you?” Merry gasped, feeling every emotional imaginable rising up inside him. “Pippin I can’t believe what I’m hearing! I never lied to you in my life!”

“Until earlier today when you said Sam was going to be all right!” Pippin replied bitterly. “I believed you, Merry. I’ve always trusted you and now this!”

“How was I to know?” Merry shot back, deeply hurt by Pippin’s behaviour, but at the feeling entitled to some anger of his own. “I never saw anything like this in my life and I don’t understand what happened even now. Strider said….” Merry stopped speaking suddenly and put his hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to blame Strider, but he realized too late that was the way it came out.

“Pip, Strider didn’t know either. I don’t think anybody could have known….” Merry stopped talking at that point and just looked confused. Known what, he wondered. “Pippin, do you want to alone now?” Merry asked quietly, thinking it might be best for both of them.

“Don’t go too far,” Pippin replied hesitantly, “because..well..it might not be safe for us out here alone.” Merry smiled with relief and sat on a log about four feet from where Pippin was standing.

*********************

Aragorn monitored Sam’s condition closely for the next five hours and gave him a half dropper full of tincture at regular intervals from the smaller black bottle. Sam felt itchy, had cold symptoms and become violently sick after taking his medicine. That obviously meant an allergic reaction. So the question was, what caused the reaction? Frodo was lying by his side, exhausted from the incident. As much as Aragorn hated to disturb Frodo, he had to get some answers soon, it might prevent Sam having another attack. Gandalf had gone out to keep watch after giving as Aragorn as much information as he could about hobbit health in general. Now Aragorn would have to get some information from Frodo, since he knew he knew Sam best. He would let Sam sleep for now to recover his strength.

“Frodo?” he whispered, rubbing his arm gently. “Don’t be frightened, but I have to talk to you.” Frodo sprang up, his blue eyes widened with alarm.

“Is Sam still all right?” he tried to keep his voice down, but it was clearly difficult.

“At this time yes,” Aragorn assured him. Frodo forced himself to stay calm by remembering that getting upset wouldn’t help Sam. “I hope I can prevent this from happening again. Has Sam ever had a reaction like this, to your knowledge?” Aragorn wanted to know.

“No never,” Frodo replied. He knew Sam was never the type to admit he was sick, but surely something like this couldn’t be concealed.

“Has it ever happened to his parents, or any of his brothers or sisters, that you know of?” Aragorn continued.

“I don’t think so,” Frodo told him, “His mother got pneumonia and I think she had some of the symptoms, but nothing sudden like this.”

“Is there anything you could tell me about Sam’s health? It could be important even if it seems irrelevant.”

“I never saw him get really sick,” Frodo said considering this, “But sometimes he works too hard and pulls a muscle, or he stays in the sun too long and gets a headache. Whenever I notice that, I insist that he come inside, and I make him some willow, rosemary and licorice tea.”

“Are you sure it was that exactly combination?” Aragorn asked, feeling he was getting somewhere now.

“Yes, Strider, that’s the standard treatment for pain in the Shire and as far as I know, it never hurts anyone, certainly not Sam.”

Aragorn considered this. Willow, rosemary and licorice could be safely ruled out, it seemed. “What about slippery elm or wild cherry bark or muellin?” he continued.

“They gave that to his mother when she had pneumonia. It seemed to help her, and it certainly didn’t do her any harm.”

That was good to know. There was a very good chance Sam would have inherited his mother’s allergy, if there was one. “Has Sam himself ever been given any of those treatments?” Aragorn continued.

“I don’t know,” Frodo replied. At that moment, Sam began to wake up.

“Hello, Sam. How are you feeling?” Frodo asked gently, as Aragorn propped Sam’s feet up again. Sam smiled, not sure how to answer that.

“Well, I feel a bit better now. I don’t much like sleeping on my side, even though I know I have to for now. And I can still breathe pretty easy, which is wonderful.”

“We were just discussing what might have caused your reaction,” Aragorn explained. “Have you have taken wild cherry, slippery elm bark or meullin?”

“Sometimes when I have a really nasty cold and I’m coughing. I take it to keep from disturb my family at night.”

“And has it ever affected you adversely?” Aragorn continued. Sam looked a bit confused. “Has it ever made you sick or done anything to do you that it wasn't meant to?” Sam shook his head.

“And what about valerian? Have you ever had that?”

“Yes, valerian and skullcap tincture when I was really small. They gave it for a few days to help me sleep when something really bad happened, like a death in the family. And they used sometimes to calm me down when I was sick and I wouldn’t let the healer tend to me. You’ve probably noticed I don’t much like being tended by a healer.” Frodo smiled sympathetically. “Although I got a bit better about that over time,” Sam added quickly.

Aragorn clenched his teeth and groaned inside. All the other herbs had been ruled out as the cause of the reaction. That could only mean one thing. “What about echinacea?” he asked, needing to be completely certain.

“Those purple flowers, sir?” Sam asked. Aragorn nodded. “I take care of them in Mr. Frodo’s garden, but I didn’t know they were used to make medicine.”

Aragorn cursed himself again and let his head fall against the cave wall none too gently. The Hobbits would have rushed to his side, but Sam’s head was on Frodo’s lap and Sam himself didn’t have the strength to get up quickly. “This was my fault completely,” Aragorn told them cryptically. “I don’t know what to say, Frodo and Sam, except that I’m sorry.” Both Hobbits looked at him, feeling shocked and confused.


Chapter 6 - Chapter 6

Merry, who knew Pippin better than anyone could tell that his cousin was softening a bit towards him. That was good, but he hadn’t apologized which still a cause for concern. Pippin had never behaved like this before, especially not towards Merry. On the other hand, they had never quite been faced with a situation like this before. Someone they cared about had almost died right in front of them unexpectedly. Weathertop had been similar, but even then they knew, right after Frodo’s stabbing that there was a good chance they could lose him. Sam, however, had come down with a seemingly mild illness and was expected to make a complete recovery very soon. There had been nothing had prepare them for what happened and Pippin apparently felt betrayed after being told Sam would be all right.

Maybe I shouldn’t have told him that, Merry thought. But I was sure of it too. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Oh, but what is this? It makes absolutely no sense.

Merry looked up hopefully to see Pippin get up from the tree stump he was sitting on, obviously looking for some comfort. He had gotten his hopes up too soon, however. Pippin darted over the cave entrance without giving him a glance.

“Oh Boromir!” Pippin cried, throwing himself into the Man’s arms. Boromir, who had been watching for some time to make sure the Hobbits came to no harm, was caught off guard for a minute, but quickly returned Pippin’s embrace. “It was so awful!” Pippin sobbed, “I still can’t believe what happened!”

“Yes I know,” Boromir said gently. “I was quite shaken by that myself. I can just imagine what you must have being going through.”

“Boromir, is Sam going be all right now?” Pippin asked, looking pleadingly into his eyes. Boromir, not used to being at a loss for words, agonized over this. He wanted with all his heart to say yes, Sam would be all right, but he knew there was still a chance he might not be. He was relieved to see Merry approach slowly. Maybe he would be spared the ordeal of having to speak, at least for a while. No such luck, however.

“Boromir, what happened to Sam?” Merry asked quietly, giving Boromir a trusting look that almost broke his heart. Boromir groaned inside; here was another question he had no answer for!

What had happened to Sam? Boromir had a general idea, but not being a healer he didn’t feel qualified to explain, especially after seeing the disastrous result of incorrect information the first time. No, Aragorn would have to take care of that when he came out. But when was that going to be?

Boromir knelt down in front of the two Hobbits and looked at them seriously, but compassionately. "Pippin and Merry, I am going to be honest with you. I don't know what happened, and I don't know if Sam will be all right." As the two Hobbits' faces fell, he continued hastily. "I don't want to you to lose hope, but I don't want to lie to you either. We need to wait for Aragorn to tell us, because he is the healer, I am not."

“But Boromir, you helped treat him. You must know something!” Merry protested.

“Listen to Boromir; he speaks wisely,” Legolas told the Hobbits firmly as he and Gimli returned from gathering whatever medicinal herbs they could find before the expected snow fall that evening.

“Indeed,” said Gimli with equal resolve. “We all have gifts that are unique to us, which is why the Fellowship was formed and is so important.” Boromir looked up at them gratefully for a minute. As he went back to giving the Hobbits what comfort he could, the Elf and the Dwarf looked at each with amazement. Finally there was something they agreed on!

**************************

Frodo and Sam were confused. How could what happened to Sam be Aragorn’s fault? And what exactly did happen, anyway? Both Hobbits had been expecting bad news and were preparing themselves for it, but Aragorn’s reaction was something they were definitely not prepared for.

Aragorn, quickly noticing this, took a breath and considered for a minute how he was going to explain. “I believe you had an allergic reaction, Sam,” he said at last. “Do you know what that means?” Both Hobbits nodded, their eyes widened with shock.

“My cousin had one of those about fifty years ago,” Sam explained. “Her brother, who lived by the sea had come home for a visit and he brought shellfish for the family as a special treat. Just after it was served and she started eating it…” Sam cringed and looked down.

“She had reaction just like Sam’s and she died,” Frodo finished. “No one in the Shire knew why until the next time Gandalf visited, then he explained everything. Of course, I was too young to remember anything about it, but Bilbo said it caused such a stir in the Shire that no one has had shellfish since. Not that they saw very much of it before that.”

“Mr. Strider, what’s this got to do with me?” Sam wanted to know, “I never ate shellfish before.”

“Allergic reactions can caused by any number of things, Sam,” Aragorn explained. “In your case, I’m sure it was the echinacea I had you take. Twice.” Aragorn cringed when he said this.

Frodo almost panicked when he realized the significance of this. “Sam isn’t going to die, is he?” he asked in horror.

“I don’t think so,” Aragorn replied cautiously. “Fortunately, extreme reactions like the one you described don’t happen very often. Sam’s reaction was only moderate and it isn’t showing signs of happening again, although we still need to watch carefully for that.”

“Sam, if this is true I don’t ever want you tending echinacea flowers again!” Frodo exclaimed.

“They never gave me any real problems before, Mr. Frodo,” Sam told him. “I just got some itching whenever I touched their leaves, and it always went away right after I washed my hands.” Aragorn cringed again when he heard this.

“Are you all right, Strider?” Frodo asked. He and Sam both looked at him with concern now they had recovered from their own shock and noticed how upset he was.

“Oh yes. I just feel awful about what I did,” Aragorn replied, keeping his voice low to avoid upsetting the Hobbits too.

“What you did?” Sam looked confused, and then understanding quickly he said, “It wasn’t your fault, sir. In fact it wasn’t anybody’s fault. Nobody could have known I was allergic to echinacea.”

“I should have asked if anything of thing in the medicine had ever affected you, Sam,” Aragorn replied. “Had I known that you itched whenever you touched echinacea leaves, then I would have known right away you were allergic to them and this would all have been avoided. And besides that, your symptoms came on too quickly to be caused by an ordinary cold. I should have realized that too.”

“We all make mistakes, sir,” Sam told him compassionately.

“Yes, Strider, don’t blame yourself,” Frodo said gently, giving Aragorn’s hand a squeeze. “The important thing is that he’s all right now.”

“Thanks to you,” Sam added. Aragorn smiled, having no words to say. They had forgiven him completely; now if he could just forgive himself.
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