What Blooms in Ithilien

Title: What Blooms in Ithilien 5/?
Author: Claudia
Pairing: Frodo/Faramir
Rating: PG13 up to NC-17 in later chapters
Summary: An ill Frodo is captured by Faramir. Love blooms.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them. ANY reference to herbs or treatment is purely made up. I haven't a clue, so don't try it at home :).
Story notes: Many liberties will be taken with characters and dialogue, etc.-that’s why it’s called fan fiction ;-)

What Blooms in Ithilien 5

Frodo gazed at the ceiling in a glaze, panting in exhaustion. His throat was so dry that it hurt to swallow, and he feared to swallow because it would bring back the pain in his stomach that felt like hands wringing his insides. He didn't think he could handle much more. He tried to imagine how much worse it would have been if Faramir had not found them. He and Sam would have been stuck in the open in hostile land on the border of Mordor, open to any attack. But instead Faramir, with his soothing voice and kind eyes, had strolled into Frodo's heart and trust. Frodo smiled as he thought about Faramir's strong arms wrapped around his body during the awful moments of retching and releasing everything from his stomach.

Frodo longed to be with Faramir, far away from their present situation. He imagined them sitting on a peaceful lawn sipping tea and discussing Minas Tirith, the Shire, and other matters. Frodo intuitively felt that despite their very different upbringings that they had much in common.

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the curtain, and he smiled again, anticipating Faramir's handsoace.ace. Instead, a man with blond hair and piercing dark eyes came in. Startled, Frodo gasped and shrank against his pillow. He flushed, immediately feeling foolish about his reaction. Surely there was no reason to fear any of the men in Faramir's company.

"How are you feeling, halfling?" the man asked. His eyes were cold and humorless. Frodo could judge by the tone of the man's voice that he did not really care about Frodo's well-being. The way he said "halfling" made the word sound dirty.

"I am all right," Frodo said stiffly. He felt instantly awkward under this man's harsh gaze. Besides, he did not really feel all right. His stomach had begun to churn ominously. His skin felt hot and dry. He closed his eyes, but the room tilted and rocked.

"Then perhaps you could answer some questions for me," Anborn said.

Frodo felt too weak to deal with an interrogation. He had to be so careful about what he said. He remembered the faces of the wise--Elrond, Gandalf, Galadriel. All of them had turned to him as their last hope. He was only a small halfling from the Shire, but somehow, he had to find a way into Mordor to destroy the Ring. Frodo would gladly tell Faramir. He felt instinctively that he could trust Faramir about the Ring. His stomach rolled, and he swallowed several times, trying to hold bace ine inevitable. He did not think he had anything left inside his stomach to eject. He did not want to get sick in front of this unpleasant man.

"I will try," Frodo said, meeting Anborn's gaze.

"Well then," the man said. "My name is Anborn and I was a dear friend of Faramir's brother, Boromir."

Frodo gasped. His entire frame jolted. Boromir! Faramir's brother? Anborn watched his reaction, a knowing smile playing across his lips.

"Boromir, son of the Steward Denethor?" Frodo finally managed, barely able to catch his breath. He pictured for a moment Boromir's kind face full of desperate hatred as he fell to the power of the Ring.

"It seems you know of him."

"We...I traveled with him for many miles. I didn't know--"

"This makes this even more interesting. Can you enlighten me on what two halflings from the Shire are doing wandering around in enemy territory?"

"Did Faramir ask you to talk to me?" Frodo asked. His lips trembled. He still could not believe Faramir was Boromir's brother. No wonder he had sensed a familiarity about him! They were so different. Frodo had always felt uncomfortable around Boromir. He had sensed the man's condescension toward him. Boromir had never understood why four halflings should be allowed to go on such a dangerous mission, much less that one of them should hold the key to saving all of Middle Earth. Boromir had fought bravely, had saved Frodo from harm several times, but there had never been the potential for equal companionship. In Faramir, Frodo sensed a kindred spirit. He was strong, he could wield a sword, but his gray eyes revealed a keen ability to look below the surface.

"Does that matter?" Anborn's voice was cold. "Or do you have something to hide?"

Frodo looked at Anborn. He did not like the man at all, and he had no desire to al aal anything to him. "It is best that nothing is revealed right now. I would rather speak with Faramir."

"Listen." Anborn said in a hiss. He knelt beside Frodo, grasping the front of Frodo's shirt. Frodo gasped, dizzy from the sudden movement. "You will only get away with this for so long. You are illegally in our land. When the Lord Denethor gets wind of this, you will be sent for. And when you stand before the Steward of Gondor, you will talk or you will be imprisoned until you give a satisfactory response. You should consider it extremely lucky that you are still alive as yet. Denethor does not love spies. Do you understand? So you can talk now or later."

Frodo tried to focus on the man's deep brown eyes, but a black haze formed in front of his vision. He groaned involuntarily and clutched the blankets. The room reeled and spun.

"Anborn!"

Frodo's heart thudded as he heard Faramir's familiar voice, though it seemed to come from a great distance.

"Mr. Frodo!" Sam ran to the bed and clutched Frodo's icy hand.

Anborn stood and looked Faramir in the eyes. Frodo pulled himself on one elbow, straining to see Faramir.

"I had a little conversation with the halfling, Faramir. It turns out he knew Boromir. I would get more out of him. His murder has not been solved as of yet."

Frodo's skin turned to ice. "Murder?" he gasped. Everything in the room wavered. He desperately fought to stay conscious. Murder? Then that meant that--

"Has something happened to Boromir?" Sam cried.

"I was thinking that Frodo could enlighten us on that matter," Anborn said.

"He's dead?" Frodo said, looking at Faramir, his blue eyes dark with agony. "I...As far as I know, he is still alive."

Faramir looked at Frodo with an expression that Frodo could not read. He stepped across the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Get out, Anborn." His voice was sad and dull. Anborn obeyed with no comment.

Frodo looked up at Faramir, his eyes beginning to tear. Faramir's gaze was hard, though his gray eyes revealed hurt.

"Dead, Faramir? How do you know?"

"How could you not at least have given me that much?" Faramir asked. "I have broken every law because I...because I trusted you."

Frodo closed his eyes. The room spun, and he allowed himself to be caught in the whirlpool of darkness. If Boromir was dead, what must be the fate of the rest of the company? He pictured Merry and Pippin, who had insisted on coming along and yet shonevenever have left the Shire; Aragorn, who had been so dear to him since Bree; Gimli and Legolas. They couldn't all be dead! If everyone he loved was dead, then what was the point of going on?

Suddenly his stomach spasmed with sharp cramps, as if a giant hand had reached inside him and twisted his ribs. He did not have the strength even to open his eyes as he ad hid his back and screamed.

***

Faramir looked down at Frodo. Frodo's eyes had filled with tears and he was breathing with rapid effort. Faramir felt deeply ashamed. If he wanted this halfling to live, he needed to heal him, not interrogate him, regardless of whether Boromir was now involved. And he did want Frodo to live. He was intrigued by him on so many levels--his beauty, his stoic manner, his bravery, his soft, lyrical voice. And if he died, he would possibly take the events of Boromir's last day alive with him.

It hurt that Frodo had not trusted him enough to at least mention that he had traveled with his brother. It was understandable that Frodo not be willing to reveal his mission, but the simple matter of Boromir? And Faramir had to admit that Frodo's lack of trust would not hurt so much if Faramir hadn't grown so attached to him.

Then again--

Frodo arched his back and yelled, as if in sudden, blinding pain. Faramir immtelytely took Frodo's soft cheeks in his hands. In his manic need to find out more about his brother's death, he had delayed Frod muc much needed treatment. Frodo was desperately ill and in no position to answer anything coherently.

"Frodo, where does it hurt?" He rubbed Frodo's cheeks, but the halfling's eyes remained squeezed shut. His skin was so hot.

"What's wrong with him?" Sam cried out. "Why is he in so much pain?"

"Frodo!" Faramir shouted, rubbing Frodo's cheeks vigorously again. "Help us. Tell us where it hurts."

But Frodo had lost consciousness.


TBC