Chapter Three - Too Much Too Soon

It was late in the evening as most of the overnight guests were in bed for an early start back home the next morning. Frodo decided to stay and visit with Merry a couple more days before heading back to Bag End. It was near midnight as both Frodo and Merry sat in the common room in front of the fireplace warming their toes, smoking pipes, and chatting.

“So he’s giving you an office all your own?” Frodo spoke softly, exhaling pipe smoke into the dimly lit room. The main light came from the fireplace itself.

Merry was puffing on his own pipe and answered, “That’s what he told me earlier in his study.”

Frodo turned to his friend, “Did he say what you would be doing with an office all your own?”

Merry shook his head, “No, he didn’t say. He did say, though, that I’d have responsibilities of my own. What they are I have yet to discover.”

There was a long silence. Merry looked over to see if his friend had fallen asleep. Instead, Frodo sat very still as if concentrating on something. Merry asked, “What are you doing?”

Frodo was still as a stone, “Didn’t you hear something?”

Merry shook his head, “What did you hear?”

“Shhh, listen!”

Merry listened carefully as the fire crackled and hissed. They were the only two people in the common room, and no one else could be heard in the entrance hall. Nothing but dead silence could be heard. Merry looked at Frodo and shook his head again--then he almost missed it. The sound blended well with the hissing of the burning wood. Someone was asleep nearby, breathing soft and deep. The sound was now very distinct. “Yes,” said Merry, “I can hear it now.”

They both got up to investigate. Together they made their way towards the back part of the room where there was little light. Frodo saw the figure first. Above an overstuffed chair, with his finger to his lips, Frodo pointed downward with his other hand. Merry crept over to view a slight, dark form curled up into ball atop the soft cushion, peacefully sleeping. It was Pippin.

Merry put his hands on his hips. In a hoarse whisper he said, “Uncle Paladin made him go to bed early! How did he get in here without us seeing him?”

Pippin stirred from his sleep and coughed, “Hullo.”

“That cough doesn’t sound good, Pip.” Frodo leaned over and felt his forehead then looked at Merry. “Warm. He should be in his bed up in his room. I’ll go and wake Paladin.”

Merry helped Pippin up to his room and into his bed, tucking the covers around him as he knew his uncle used to do for him when he was young and visited Whitwell often. “How did you sneak into the room without us seeing or hearing you?”

“I didn’t mean to sneak. I just didn’t want to upset you and Frodo is all.” Pippin held his pillow to his face as he coughed up more congestion. Pippin’s face was pale in the dim light. “I wish this would stop.”

Merry sat down on the bed next his best friend, “I wish it would stop, too. You look so miserable, Pippin.”

It seemed to Pippin his throat tickled whenever he took a breath. “I feel miserable, too, Merry.” Then he added, “You know, back in the veranda, I was going to say something and then stopped.”

Merry recalled his cousin’s remark, “I remember.”

Pippin held his pillow close in case another bout of coughing started up. “I wanted to say...I really miss you, and I really wanted to see you. That’s why I made all the fuss to come to Rory’s burial.”

Merry smiled sadly. His last visit to Great Smials had been in August. The time between his visits were getting longer and longer. “I miss you, too, Pip. I miss your whole family.” He smiled, “But you know you are always welcome here at Brandy Hall.”

“I know, but it’s not the same as when you visit us. It’s like we’re a family--except Pearl’s married and gone now.” Pippin put his pillow to his face as another coughing fit shook him.

Paladin rushed into the room trailed by Frodo and at once put his hand to his son’s face and brow. He sighed, “Ah, Pippin.”

Pippin looked sorrowful at Paladin, “I’m sorry, father.”

Paladin sank down in a chair, “What have you to be sorry about? It’s my fault for allowing you to come along.”

Merry got up from his side of the bed, “I’ll run and fetch the healer.”

In a little while, Pippin was resting comfortably after drinking an elixir the healer made for him. She made enough for the next couple of days and gave instructions on how to administer it. She further explained that peace and quiet, and more bed rest was all Pippin really needed. Merry thanked Mistress Salinda for her help and saw her back to her own quarters.

“I knew I let him get up too soon,” said Paladin; he was weary. He sat dejectedly in his chair as Pippin slept across the room. “I should’ve expected this.”

Frodo felt for his older cousin, “Pippin’s not a small child anymore, Paladin, so it’s difficult to keep him in bed at his age. I should know--I gave my dear Uncle Saradas some trying times just like this when I was his age.”

“But the timing for this couldn’t be more wrong,” Paladin shook his head. He had a far away look on his face. “I left Ferumbras in the care of a hired attendant,” he said. “He’s becoming feeble in his old age, so I must return to mind him and his affairs. He only seems to trust me though he realized that I had to come to Rory’s burial.”

Frodo watched as Paladin began to nod off. He knew Paladin had done much traveling in the past couple days, and had yet to travel back home to Great Smials. Frodo figured he himself could always catch up on his sleep with a nap later. “Why don’t you go on to bed? Pippin looks much better and he’s breathing easier now. I’ll sit up with him--you need your own rest before you become ill yourself.”

Paladin hadn’t thought of it from that angle, “Yes, I suppose I shall. Thank you, Frodo lad.”

Frodo smiled; he hadn’t been called ‘Frodo lad’ since Bilbo left. It felt sort of nice...even if he was forty years old.