Chapter Fourteen

Bell stepped out of the hallway and into the kitchen, walking towards Pippin. “There you be, little one. Your sister tells me you’ve a hurt wrist, eh?”

Pippin having finished heaving looked up at the healer. She seemed to be a nice lady to Pippin until she mentioned his wrist. Somehow he got the feeling she wanted to do something with it. As he cradled it, he took it into safekeeping under his blanket.

“Can I have a look?”

“No. It hurts.”

“But that's why I want to see it. I want to see if I can make it not hurt.”

Pippin eyed her warily, “How can you make it stop hurting?”

“Wait--Pippin!” Frodo stepped out of the hallway and went up to Pippin. He knelt down to look Pippin at eye level. “Pip, mistress Bell wants to look at your wrist. Your wrist will need to be set.”

Pippin crinckled his brow, “Set? Like how?”

“She will have to...to hold your wrist...and twist the bones into place in order for it to mend properly.” Frodo watched Pippin’s face to make sure he understood what he said.

Pippin’s eyes got wide and he was getting scared. It apparently hurt enough for Frodo to tell him about it, and it didn’t seem like he was going to have any say in the matter anyway. He held his arm closer. “No! ”

Frodo tried to convince his young cousin, “Pippin, if your wrist isn’t set it won’t heal properly; in fact, it may never heal. It will look like this for the rest of your days.”

Pippin was visibly upset and shaken now, “I don’t care! No one is going to touch my arm!”

Frodo looked Pippin straight in the eyes, “Pippin, I swear I won’t lie to you. Your arm must be set, and when it is set....it will hurt. But I will be here with you throughout the whole ordeal.” Frodo let his last words take effect, “I will be here with you; I will not leave you.” I will be a better host this time, Frodo thought to himself.

“And I will be here with you as well,” Pearl answered.

Pippin’s face held the look of one going to his death. He took his arm out from under the blanket, looking at the swollen arm and blue wrist that he tried to imagine hale and whole again. He swallowed his fear. “All right.”

Frodo then nodded over to Bell, who sat down in a stool next to the boy. Pippin held out his arm, but then felt someone lift him up out of his seat. It was Frodo; he lifted Pippin onto his lap and held him tight around the waist. Already Pippin was regretting his agreement.

Bell took Pippin’s arm and lightly slid her hand over his wrist and arm to feel the right angle. She did this over and over. This isn’t so bad, Pippin thought. Bell nodded to Pippin, “Are ye ready?”

To anyone passing by outside Bag End they could clearly hear the blood-curdling scream of a child in pain. Pippin screamed again and struggled to break free, but the two older tweens held him fast. Bell took his wrist so she could splint and wrap it in a clean bandage, but Pippin thought she was trying to set it once more, and screamed again.

“She’s done, Pippin--she’s done!” Frodo said to Pippin, but that didn’t console him. He sat on Frodo’s lap and cried. Frodo held him close and rocked him for sometime before Pippin began to settle down. “Hold onto your arm, Pip” Frodo said. As he was still holding him, Frodo got up and took Pippin into the next room with the hot bath waiting for him. On his way, Frodo mouthed some words to Pearl. Closing the door, Frodo unwrapped Pippin’s blanket and then stepped himself into the tub, clothes and all, and sat down with Pippin still clinging to him; careful about Pip’s newly set wrist the entire time. Pippin was still sniffling but was calming down a little more. Frodo began to sweat from the hot water, and wiped his brow, but he knew the heat felt good to Pippin. He heard a soft knock on the door and it came open a bit. Pearl peeped in, and when she saw both of them in the tub she started to close the door again, but Frodo called out to her, “Pearl--wait!” He tried not to shouted too loud for Pippin’s sake.

Pearl hesitated, and saw Frodo was fully clothed. “Are you mad? You’re going to get yourself sick as well!”

“I’ll be fine, Pearl,“Frodo assured her. “Do you have it?”

Pearl nodded and held forth a bottle of wine and a glass. “You know I would never agree to this otherwise, don’t you? He’s already had his fill of ale yesterday at your party. At the rate he’s going, he’ll be a drunkard by the time he turns nine!” Her heart went out to her baby brother--well, she still saw him as such, anyhow.

With a practiced hand, Frodo cradled Pippin while opening the bottle and pouring wine into a glass as if for pleasure. “Pippin,“ he said, “let’s have a toast!”

Pippin only sniffled in reply.

“Pippin...do you want to taste Bilbo’s favorite wine?”

“No.”

“Pip, this will take some of the pain away.”

Pippin sat up, wiped his eyes, and looked at the glass Frodo held.

“Just taste it, all right? It’s very good!”

Pippin sipped a little bit and then lay his head back on Frodo’s chest. Pearl knew then that her young brother would live through this nightmare.