Frodo x reader comforting him | everything hurts and it sucks
Summary: Frodo feels like shit because of the ring. You and Sam take care of him.
Warnings: Vomiting
A/N: I really couldn't think of a title, so this is what you get....
You held him while he threw up. His body shaking in your embrace, pained sobs taking turns with the gurgling sound of stomach acid gushing out of his mouth.
You ran your fingers across his back, one hand tracing soothing patterns on the fabric of his shirt while the other steadied him with a firm grip.
"Help-" Frodo choked, barely having time to form the words before another wave of vomit splashed on the ground.
Tightening your grip, you pressed your cheek to his back "I'm here, it will be right over, you'll be alright soon."
At this point, he was barely throwing up anything anymore. Nonetheless, his intestines kept convulsing, pushing out even the last drops of stomach acid.
Frodo barely ate these days, and when he did, he often couldn't keep it down. It had gotten worse over time; the closer you got to Mordor, the more the ring seemed to destroy his body, while simultaneously being the only thing giving him energy. If Frodo had been living like he did right now without the ring, he probably would have broken down from exhaustion weeks ago.
When he stopped gagging, Frodo broke into a coughing fit. His lungs expelled all the acid he had inhaled when he was gasping for air in between waves of vomit.
Tears were streaming down his face, and his coughs mixed with pained sobs.
"Easy, easy", you said as you lightly slapped his back to help his lungs get the fluid out.
The coughing triggered another gag reflex, but this time there was nothing left in his stomach. Frodo bent forward in a painful cramp, but without any more vomit coming out.
Sobbs and haggard breaths took turns as his intestines finally calmed down again.
You wiped his mouth with a cloth and eased him into your arms. He slumped against you, limp and cold. If you couldn't hear him sniffle softly into your cloak, you would have thought he was dead.
You exchanged a frightened look with Sam, who sat on the opposite side of your friend.
"Please drink some water, Mr Frodo", he extended an old metal cup towards him. "I can't, Sam," Frodo whined, barely audible.
Sam's eyes met yours again, terrified and close to tears. You shared the same worries regarding your friend. Day by day, Frodo was growing weaker, more exhausted, more hopeless. There were days when he was dragging himself along behind the two of you, completely silent, not responding to anything, barely having enough energy to keep himself upright.
Even tho Sam and you did your best to take care of your friend, you were worried that it wasn't enough. That he wouldn't last until Mount Doom, that one morning, after another day of Frodo not eating or drinking, the two of you would wake up, and he wouldn't.
"At least rinse your mouth with it. The stomach acid is bad for your teeth." You suggested as you took the cup from Sam's hand and hovered it in front of Frodo's mouth.
He nodded, and you helped him sit up. As Frodo swayed the water in his mouth, you wiped the tears from his cheeks. They were instantly replaced with new ones.
When he gagged as he spat out the water on the mossy ground, Sam moved closer and also wrapped an arm around Frodo.
"We'll take a break today. It is rather safe here. I will set up a fire, and you can rest for the day." Sam whispered.
"No, no," Frodo sniffed, "we can't. We can't afford to lose a whole day. We need to keep going."
"We also can't afford to lose you". You responded,
"No, I can do it, I-",
"NO, you can't!" Sam said sternly, "Frodo, I'm not having this. It's two against one, it is settled, you are resting!" he turned to you ", I will go pick up some firewood, you keep him warm." He gave Frodo one last squeeze before he got up. "Thank you," Frodo whispered.
When Sam had left, you took off your cloak, wrapping it around Frodo like a blanket. "No, keep your cloak, you'll be cold. I'm fine really" he protested weakly, snuggling up closer to you nonetheless.
"Frodo", you cupped his face with one hand, "you are as cold as an ice block. I am amazed that you are not turning blue all over. You are anything but fine." You wrapped your arms around him again, rubbing his back and arms to generate some warmth.
He leaned onto you with his whole weight, slumping into your embrace, completely void of all energy.
You pressed a kiss into his curls "Frodo, my dear Frodo, what did we get ourselves into?"
"I'm so sorry", he whispered, "I'm so sorry I dragged you and Sam into this"
"No, Frodo, I didn't mean it like that. You didn't drag us into anything. We came with you out of our own free will. Because we love you. Frodo, never ever would I have let you go on this journey on your own. Yes, I wish for nothing more than for us to be back in the Shire and finally be rid of this horrible ring, but only because I don't want you to suffer any longer. So please, never, never think you dragged me into anything."
A fresh tear rolled down his cheek.
"I couldn't do it without you, you know?, Frodo sniffed, voice barely above a whisper, "Even tho I hate that you have to go through all this because of me, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you and Sam. If you weren't with me, I would have given up long ago"
Your heart clenched at his words. You wouldn't even dare to imagine what would have happened to him, had he gone through with his original plan to go to Mount Doom all on his own. You wouldn't even dare picture what "giving up" would have looked like.
You looked down at your Frodo. Lying in your arms, cold, pale and exhausted.
His big blue eyes were open, but tired. Staring straight ahead without focus. He was looking up at you, past you, without really seeing. Tears were streaming down his exhausted face, looking as if even the smallest facial expression would cost too much energy.
"My dear Frodo", you said as you brought your forehead to his. "I wish I could take your pain away". "I wish I could build a huge catapult and toss this ring into the volcano from right here"
He let out a small chuckle that sounded more like a sob.
You pressed a kiss to his forehead and gently started running your fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, and he let out an exhausted sigh.
Frodos whole body was aching. His throat and nose and mouth burned from the stomach acid that had gushed through them, undiluted by any food or water. His stomach still hurt from the cramping, his feet were terribly sore from all the walking, the muscles in his neck were terribly tense from having to hold the heavy weight of the ring-chain and he was horribly, horribly exhausted.
Every bone in his body was burning, feeling like acid was slowly eating away at them. This feeling was only worsened by how horribly cold he was. The cold had crept deep into his flesh and bones, making every attempt to warm him utterly pointless.
No matter how many blankets and cloaks you and Sam wrapped around him, his body simply no longer produced enough warmth to warm the air under them.
The only pleasant sensation were your fingers slowly combing through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly and giving him goosebumps all over.
He pressed his body against you, snuggling as close to you as his position allowed, desperate to soak up as much of your warmth as possible.
He cherished those moments. Snuggled up to you, mediocerly warm, you running your hands through his hair. For just a few moments, he didn't feel that terrible. If he closed his eyes and tried really hard, he could even imagine you two back in the shire.
Lying on a picnic blanket, on a sunny day, his head in your lap, you absentmindedly running a hand through his hair while reading your book.
Oh, how he missed those days.
The two of you had always dreamed of going on a great adventure, just like Bilbo. You had imagined dragons and heroic battles, foreign landscapes and strange people.
You indulged in these childish fantasies over a piece of cake or on leisurely walks through the forest.
But now that you were finally here, on your own great adventure, all Frodo wanted was to be back home again. To open his eyes now and wake up with you on that picnic blanket, realising it had all just been a horrible dream.
Footsteps approaching made him all too aware of his surroundings again. Alerted, he opened his eyes and, to his dismay, didn't find himself back in the shire.
"It's only Sam coming back", you said, calming his anticipation of potential danger.
"Look" Sam called out, "I found mushrooms. I'll make us a nice soup. Will be a bit bland, of course, because I don't have any herbs... or spices, but it will feed us alright."
Frodo smiled faintly. Good old Sam. How he kept his relentless optimism was a miracle to Frodo.
In no time, Sam had put up a fire and a pot of curious-smelling soup was bubbling away over it.
You and Frodo had moved as close to the fire as possible without setting him on fire, but even this didn't seem to be enough to sufficiently warm him.
Still leaning against you, Frodo stared at the fire, eyes wide and barely blinking. He had done so ever since it was lit. Not speaking, not moving, simply staring. His mind miles away.
You kept combing your fingers through his curls as you conversed with Sam. Only letting go of Frodo to take two bowls of steaming soup in your hands.
You extended one to Frodo, but he only shook his head.
"Please, at least try to eat something", Sam said, brow furrowed in concern.
"I can't." his eyes were still fixated on the fire "I will just throw it up again", his voice was merely a whisper.
Sam and you exchanged a look.
"Just eat a few spoons full", you offered, "and if you feel sick again, you stop. Your body needs something, Frodo"
He shook his head again.
"At least drink some water", Sam suggested. "Please. For me. I would feel horribly guilty if you collapsed. I'm supposed to take care of you Mr. Frodo"
Frodo agreed and took a small sip out of the water bag. His mouth was dry and eager for more water, but his stomach protested immediately.
He made a grimace and handed the water back to Sam.
With a sigh, you set down Frodos plate next to him and began eating your own meal. It tasted strange, but it got rid of the hunger and that was all that counted.
Every now and then, you or Sam tried to convince Frodo to eat some soup. In the end, you got him to take 4 whole spoons.
It wasn't much, but it was the best you could get.