"Are you limping?" Merry asked as Frodo approached the table with his tray of pancakes.
Pippin nodded, having heard the whole tale at first breakfast. "He dubbed dis doe," he explained, his mouth full of food.
Frodo nodded uncomfortably as he sat down, careful not to hit his hurt toe against the table leg, as Merry cringed empathetically.
"What'd you stub it against?" Sam asked, looking around the cafeteria curiously.
"My bed," Frodo explained, even more embarrassed. "Last night."
"Last night?" Merry repeated, obviously surprised. "And it still hurts?"
Frodo didn't like Merry's worried tone. "Should I be doing something about it?" he asked, hoping he wasn't causing irreparable damage by walking on it.
Sam shook his head. "You can't do much with a stubbed toe. You can elevate it," he suggested. "And if it really hurts, you can put ice on it."
Frodo nodded. Sam was a great friend, but Frodo felt nervous about taking medical advice from a Gamgee. After all, Sam's sister Marigold had been born feet first, and his mother had refused pain relief from the midwife, opting instead for only the strong ale the gaffer offered. And Frodo knew he didn't have that sort of pain tolerance.
"What do YOU think I should do?" he asked his cousins anxiously.
Pippin shrugged. "Cry?" he suggested flippantly.
Merry laughed. "Pip's right, though. I don't think there's much to worry about right now. I mean, it's only a stubbed toe. But definitely keep an eye on it, just in case."
Frodo nodded. He didn't NEED to keep an eye on it -- the continual throbbing was a constant reminder. But Merry had said not to worry, so he vowed to do his best not to. And digging into his full stack of pancakes was just the distraction he needed.
***
"It's BLACK!" Frodo said hysterically, placing his foot up onto the luncheon table. "Is that NORMAL?!"
Sam calmly looked at his friend's foot, which sat right next to his tray of food, and nodded. "It's a bruise," he said helpfully. "Black's the normal color for a bruise."
"But is it normal for an entire TOE to turn black?" Frodo was clearly distraught.
"It is if the toe's broken," Sam said. "My toes've turned black every time I've broke one."
"Broke!?" Frodo repeated, panic-stricken.
"It ain't that big a deal," Sam said. "I've broke all my toes at least once. You'll survive."
"Nice manners, Frodo," Merry teased as he approached the table. "Since when does Miss Etiquette approve of feet on the table?"
Sam suddenly wondered that himself.
"Merry, it's black!" Frodo said, thrusting his toe under Merry's nose and refusing to answer the Miss Etiquette question.
"Ooh, that's not good," Merry said, examining Frodo's toe.
"It's probably just broken," Sam said, not quite understanding what the big fuss was about. "Haven't you never broke a toe before?"
Frodo shook his head, which surprised Sam. After all, Frodo was not the most graceful of hobbits -- Sam had seen him trip over his own two feet on numerous occasions -- so it seemed strange that he'd never stubbed his toe that hard in the past.
"What should I do?!" Frodo asked hysterically.
Merry shrugged. "You could go to the doctor," he suggested.
Sam shook his head. "A doctor can't do nothing that you can't do yourself. He'll just tell you to ice it and elevate it. And if it IS broken, he might tape it to the next toe. But that's about all he can do. So I don't see no point in going."
"I tried taping it earlier," Frodo said, "and it just hurt more."
Sam nodded. "That's why I never tape 'em. Toes heal just fine on their own. You shouldn't worry none."
But Frodo didn't seem to be listening. "I guess I'll go over to the Student Health Center after I eat," he said. Turning to Merry, he added, "Unless you think I should go now?"
Sam didn't understand why Frodo was so upset. "It's only a broken toe," he pointed out. "One meal's time ain't gonna make a whit of difference."
"Sam's right," Merry agreed. "You'll probably be sitting in the waiting room awhile, so you might as well be sitting on a full stomach."
Frodo nodded, setting his foot tentatively back on the ground and hobbling off to get some food.
***
"I hate the Student Health Center!" Frodo announced as he slammed his dinner tray down on the table. "And I hate the stupid cafeteria that doesn't stay open between tea and dinner! And I hate stupid orcs who try to run me down on their bicycles in the rain! And I hate beds!"
Merry laughed, confused and confounded by this last statement.
Sam must've been confused as well for he repeated, "Beds?"
"It's what he stubbed his toe on," Pippin explained, somehow able to understand his cousin's bizarre train of thought.
"So is it broken?" Merry asked.
Frodo shook his head. "I waited for THREE HOURS in the stupid Student Health Center. And I had to miss Ethics AND afternoon tea. All that, and it turns out I didn't even break it."
"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Pippin asked.
Frodo nodded. "I guess so."
"So if it's not broken, what did the doctor say?" Merry asked, never having gone to a doctor for a stubbed toe himself and wondering if the doctor might have some secret cure.
"He just told me to ice it and elevate it."
Sam looked up from his asparagus to ask, "And didn't someone tell you that exact same thing this morning?"
Merry's jaw dropped in surprise. He had never in his life heard Sam make a sarcastic comment, especially not to his best friend.
Frodo was clearly chagrined. "Yes, Sam, you were right -- I should've listened to you and not wasted my afternoon."
Sam gave a surprised, "Oh!" Then, looking somewhat chagrined himself, he added, "I guess that WAS me, wasn't it?"
Merry couldn't help but laugh, suddenly realizing Sam's comment hadn't been sarcastic after all. Of course, Merry wasn't really surprised -- Sam was and always would be the last hobbit in Middle Earth who would ever say, "I told you so."
Even if he had.
***
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