The Elfling || A Frodo Baggins Love Story

Home of the Elves

I hurried up the steps of the home of Lord Elrond. Many Elves stared at me as I passed through with the nearly-dead Hobbit cradled gently in my arms. They looked shocked to see that I was holding the nearly lifeless Hobbit in my embrace. But I ignored their stares and continued my way to the royal house of Elrond.

And there stood Lord Elrond. He stood at the top of the stairs leading to his grand home. When I approached him, he gave me a slight smile, eyeing the injured Hobbit that I held in my arms.

“Is that the halfling?” he asked, nodding to Frodo.

He still lay unconscious in my arms, nearly dead. I sighed, closed my eyes, and nodded. I tried hard to not let the tears flow. Elrond extended his arms so that he could take in the injured Hobbit.

“I will take him,” he offered.

I sighed shakily and pressed a gentle kiss to Frodo’s dangerously cold forehead before reluctantly handing Frodo over, doing my best to be careful with him. Elrond also did the same, being incredibly careful with the injured Hobbit.

We began to walk quickly through the empty, silent corridors of the home. There was barely any sound, except for Frodo’s desperate gasps for air and an occasional whimper. He was alive, but just barely.

“I was becoming very worried,” Elrond explained. “I felt a dark shadow hovering over your party as you and your group were headed here. I sent your cousin, Arwen, to find you. If you had delayed your journey here any longer, he wouldn’t have been able to make it.”

I shuddered, trying hard to not think of what would have happened if Arwen had not come. Frodo definitely wouldn’t have been able to survive if we'd delayed our escape.

Once we’d reached a room, Elrond gave me a firm look in the eye.

“Stay out here,” he advised. “I know you are eager to stay with the Halfling, and that you are very protective of him. But this will not be the best thing for you to watch.”

I stared at Frodo’s sickly-pale face. His chest rose and fell, stuttering heavily in between, as he struggled to breathe. His lips were beginning to turn purple from the sharp cold that flowed through his veins. I finally drew my attention to Lord Elrond again, gripping his upper arm.

“Please,” I whispered desperately. “Keep him safe. Make sure he stays alive. I can’t lose him. Not now.”

Lord Elrond nodded and took Frodo into the nearest bedroom. He closed the door behind him so that I could not see what was going on beyond the walls.

I spent the next hour-and-a-half pacing up and down the corridor, biting at my lower lip as I did when I got anxious. I was pretty sure that they bled at some point from all the biting I’d been doing.

I could hear Frodo whimpering in pain as Lord Elrond tried to get the nasty shard from his wound. I wanted to go in there and comfort him, but I continued to do as Lord Elrond told me. I continued to pace up and down the halls of the elves, waiting for Lord Elrond to get done.

Finally, Lord Elrond opened the door. For a split second, I thought that Frodo had not made it, as there were his bloodstains all over Lord Elrond’s hands.

Frodo’s blood.

I froze. My face paled as I realized what I was seeing. But, luckily, Lord Elrond smiled gently at me, causing me to relax, knowing that Lord Elrond had succeeded in healing that innocent Hobbit. 

“He is safe now, Eirina,” said Lord Elrond, and I allowed my body to relax. “I have managed to get the shard out of the wound; it was slowly going towards his heart. If the shard had succeeded, he would have turned into one of them. It took me a while to find it, but I managed to get the thing out.”