Written for the Tolkien Weekly Luncheon challenge. For Budgielover for her birthday. Beta by RiverOtter.
Sam looked down on the small luncheon tray he’d prepared for his Master. “It ain’t natural!” he muttered, “just a cup of soup, a slice of toast, and a mug of cider. He ought to be eatin’ well, like any proper Hobbit.”
But since their return from the Southlands Frodo Baggins had been able to eat less and less at a time.
“At this rate,” he continued, “he’ll be not much better’n a wraith in no time at all.”
And then he shuddered, remembering how very close that had come to happening in truth. At least his Master still lived.