PART TWO: Watching In Vigilance

“A... Atchooo!”

“And good morning to you too!”

Merry sniffled, shuddered and sat down at the breakfast table. He sneezed again and tried to swallow away the feeling of soreness in his throat.

“Merry?” Esmeralda said, looking at her son. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m just a bit sniffly, Mum.” Merry reached for his tea, and sipped the warm drink, relishing the warm feeling down his throat. He had slept like a log all night, but was feeling stuffy and achy this morning.

“Can I help with the messages today too?” The rain was still pouring down outside the Hall, and most of the grown ups were out by the river already. Merry wanted to be where the excitement was, and to help his father. If Buckland and the safety of hobbits living there was his father’s responsibility, than it was Merry`s too. His father did not turn his back on his duty if he had a bit of the sniffles, and therefore Merry could not. “I’ll promise to wear warm clothes,” he said. I will need them anyway, for I’m freezing already, Merry thought and looked to see if the fire in the hearth was burning low.

Esmeralda came around to Merry`s side of the table, and laid a hand on his forehead. “No fever, but I think you should stay inside today, love. I don’t want you out in the rain.” She stroked his curls, and sat down again. He had done a remarkable job yesterday.

“Please? I’m all right, really. I want to help.” If he ran from the Hall to the riverbank he would get warm, he was sure.

Esmeralda eyed him thoroughly, and nodded at length. He had saved lives yesterday after all. If he wanted to help with messages, she could see nothing wrong in that. He was a bit sniffly, and his nose and the tips of his ears were a bit flushed, but he seemed all right otherwise.

“All right, but I want you to stay inside as much as possible.”

Merry nodded and finished his breakfast. “Where’s Frodo?” he asked, sniffing again.

“He’s outside with your father I think. They ate breakfast early. The crews by the river did a good job yesterday, for the riverbank seems to be stabilized now.“ she said, handing him a handkerchief. “Blow your nose.”

*****

Merry did not have that many messages to run, and was secretly glad for it. He was not feeling very well, and ached all over. His throat was getting sorer too, and he did feel a bit lightheaded. When lunchtime came he was exhausted, and sat heavily down on his chair at the table. Saradoc looked at him disapprovingly, but said nothing. He reckoned that Merry still was tired after yesterday’s ordeal. All the workers were in by now, and ate in the large hall. Frodo had come in together with Merry`s father, and sat down beside Merry at the table. Merry drank his milk eagerly, but only picked at his food. There was much talking going on, so no one noticed. Except Frodo.

“Why are you not eating Merry?”

“I’m not hungry, and it’s not very fun to eat with a stuffed nose.” He gave a little sneeze and blew his nose, putting his fork down.

Frodo studied his cousin for a while, but decided that Merry probably just had a bit of the sniffles, and Frodo knew from experience that it was not always fun eating when you had trouble breathing through your nose.

“All right. I’m exhausted, but after I’ve had a little nap we can do whatever you want. Maybe you need a nap too?” Frodo said, thinking that his cousin looked tired.

“I’m not a baby Frodo, I don’t need a nap. Maybe we could find a book with some elvish in the library, and you could teach me?”

Frodo laughed. “I don’t think we would find any elvish books in the library here, but we shall see what we will find. But I need a nap, and you should try to take one too. You look tired, Merry-lad.”

*****

With a mother's sense, Esmeralda thought that something was not quite right. She had gone to bed, but could not sleep. Putting a dressing gown on over her nightdress, she went to Merry`s room. He had been sniffling and sneezing the whole day, and knowing that he almost never was ill, she thought she would just check on him before going back to bed. Like all children Merry had had a few bouts with a head cold necessitating a couple of days in bed, but he had never been really ill, and was back on his feet quickly. Merry seemed to always go free when an illness went through the Hall.

Carefully she opened the door to the room, and went inside. It was almost completely dark, save for the lamp burning low on the desk. She could hear the rain outside the Hall. Merry was lying with his back to the door, snoring lightly through his stuffed nose, his bright curls tousled and mussed, indicating a restless sleep. She stood watching her little lad for a moment, then leaned over to give him another good night kiss before going back to her own bed.

Feeling her cool hand on his shoulder while she kissed his curls, Merry awoke and shifted over to his back. “Mum?” he rasped.

Esmeralda sat down on his bedside, and put a hand to his forehead, stroking away the damp curls. He was hot, and now that his eyes were open, she saw they were bright with fever.

“Oh, Merry” she whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well? You're burning up.”

“I wanted to help with the messages. And you said I did not have any fever this morning.”

“I know, darling.” Silently she reprimanded herself for not having watched over him more closely, but he had been with Frodo all afternoon, and he had seemed all right that morning. She had seen him briefly at supper, but he did not look any more ill then.

She reached for the water mug on his nightstand, and lifted his head, helping him to sip a little.

“How do you feel love?”

Merry tried to sit up, but the motion only made him cough.

“My throat is sore, and I ache everywhere. Everything hurts, Mum.” Large watery eyes looked up at her. She felt like crying. Her brave and strong Merry did not look like anything else than a miserable, sick child now. And that is what he is, and I am going to do all I can to make him better. She kissed him again, and smoothed the covers about him.

“I’ll be right back.”

*****

Esmeralda went to fetch a bowl, cold water, some cloths and a jar of salve. She entered Merry`s room again, knowing that she would not get any more sleep this night.

Merry slept again. Sometimes she forgot that he was only 12 years old. Knowing it was his destiny to be Master one day, he had taken on more responsibility than she had ever imagined that a lad of his age would do. And he had saved lives. Saved lives. She could not quite understand that yet. Her brave lad, her little Merry had saved several lives yesterday.

She wrung a cloth out over the bowl, and placed it on Merry`s brow.

Esmeralda pulled the covers down to Merry`s waist and unbuttoned his nightshirt. The salve she had brought with her was made to ease the coughing. She silently opened the jar and gently rubbed some of the salve on Merry`s chest. He was hotter now, and she had been gone from his side only a few minutes.

Merry coughed a bit in his sleep and shifted. Esmeralda replaced the cloth on his brow and stroked his curls. This was going to be a long watch.

Merry settled again and slept on.

*****

Merry awoke, suddenly coughing deep and wetly. Instinctively he curled into a tight ball.

Esmeralda rose quickly from her chair, and lifted him into a sitting position. Merry was drenched in sweat and his skin was very hot to the touch. Esmeralda held him through the fit and when it passed, she gave him a little water to drink.

She wrung out a fresh cloth and gently washed his fevered body. She laid him back down and dressed him in a new nightshirt from the cupboard. If he was no better in the morning she would send for the healer. A new cloth was placed on Merry`s forehead.

*****

The next day it was still raining, and Frodo decided he would wake his little cousin with breakfast in bed. He fixed a nice tray with all of Merry's favourites and made his way to the lad's room. Setting the tray down before the door, he opened it slowly and peered inside. Esmeralda was sitting in the chair by the bed, and Merry was asleep, snoring heavily.

Frodo spotted the bowl on the nightstand and the cloth in Esmeralda`s hand. She had just wrung it out, and was about to place it back on Merry`s brow.

“Merry!”

Frodo rushed to the bed and knelt by Merry, taking his hand. “Oh Merry… What happened, Cousin Esmie?”

“He became feverish some time after he went to bed I think. Did he complain to you about not feeling well yesterday?”

“No, but I sensed that he was not well, sniffling and sneezing as he was. And he seemed exhausted too, but stubborn lad that he is, he claimed he was fine when I suggested that he take a nap. We were in the library all afternoon.”

Frodo stroked Merry`s curls and looked back at Esmeralda.

“He’s so hot!” he almost whispered, then asked: “How long have you been here, Cousin?”

“All night. I couldn’t sleep, and came to give him another good night kiss, and when I got here, he was feverish.”

“I brought a breakfast tray, hoping to surprise him. He was so brave yesterday! Do you think we should wake him?” Frodo took the cloth from Merry`s head, feeling it’s dryness and quickly wet it again, gently wiping Merry`s face.

“No, we’ll wait a bit longer. He woke up several times coughing, so I think he needs what sleep he can get. Bring the tray in here, and go get Saradoc please. I’ll wait here. And see if you can find the healer. Hurry, Frodo dear!”

“Yes, Cousin.” Frodo said, hurrying out of the room, his heart thumping loudly in his chest. Merry sick? That was beyond comprehension. Frodo had known Merry all 12 years of his young cousin's life, but could not recall him being this sick before. He ran towards the Master’s study, hoping to find his cousin there.

*****

Just a few minutes after Frodo left, Saradoc entered Merry`s room, coming to the bed. He had not seen his son except for meals yesterday, There had been too much discussion going on about the securing of banks and planning the clean up now that the worst was over, so he had had little time to see how Merry was faring. He had noticed, though, that Merry was sniffling a bit and sneezing. But if Esmeralda was not worried, he saw no reason to be concerned. Now an almost breathless Frodo had come for him, saying that Merry was ill, and please come at once.

Merry stirred, coughing. He shifted a little, trying to find a comfortable position. Saradoc reached for Merry before Esmeralda could, and lifted his son upright, whispering soothing noises in his ear. Merry was like a rag doll in his arms when the fit passed. Limp, sweaty and flushed, he was laid back down. The Master remained perched on the edge of the bed, gently rubbing Merry`s arm.

Esmeralda was giving her husband a brief description of what had happened when Frodo entered with the healer.

*****

Pardy, the healer, started issuing orders at once, when he saw the ill lad lying limply in the bed. Frodo had explained what he had seen himself, and what Merry`s mum had told him. “Master, get more cold water! Mistress, would you please move out of the way?” Frodo was standing forgotten by the hearth.

Saradoc got up and grabbed the bowl and hurried to comply.

 

”Don’t worry sweetie, he’s just here to check on you, all right? You were out in the rain for a long time you know.” Esmeralda said, moving her chair a little further from the bed.

“Aye. I heard you did a fine job, alerting the people in Standelf. You’ll be a fine Master when your turn comes.” The healer said, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Merry was still breathless, and nodded. He was not used to having the attention of a healer, and felt a little intimidated. Merry looked from one grown up to another. His parents seemed nervous about something, and the healer had ordered them about. You did not order the Master about without a very good explanation. Merry had been sick before, and they had not reacted like this then. But as far as Merry could recall, they hadn’t called for the healer before either. Sure, there had been scrapes and bruises before, but nobody had been acting like they were now. Merry did not feel well at all, but surely there were no reason for this behavior, was there? Merry felt a sudden urge to have Frodo close, this beloved elder cousin that Merry could always trust to have a solution to everything.

“Frodo?” he rasped out, barely audible, and no one heard him. And now the healer was filling all his vision, smiling at him.

“Now then laddie, let’s see what’s what, shall we?” Pardy saw the lad’s half frightened look, and started talking nonsense to Merry while checking his ears and eyes and feeling his throat. He turned Merry`s head from side to side, and asked him to open his mouth.

While having his head turned, Merry spotted Frodo standing by the hearth, looking as frightened as Merry felt. He wanted to reach out to him and give him a hug, but felt too weak, and this healer was in the way.

“Your throat is sore, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes.” it came like a rasping whisper.

A cool hand was placed on his forehead, and Merry leaned against the soothing touch, feeling even weaker now than after the coughing. Esmeralda took his hand, stroking it gently.

“Has he been coughing much?” Pardy said, looking at Esmeralda.

“He’s been coughing a bit during the night, and he had a fit now just before you came.” she said.

Pardy turned his attention back to Merry. “I have to listen to your breathing now young master. I’ll take your nightshirt off first. You’re all sweaty and I think you probably want a new one.” Merry just nodded and allowed the healer to take his shirt. He shivered a little, but said nothing.

Esmeralda saw it though, and silently pleaded with her eyes for the healer to be quick. Frodo was anxiously following the examination from his corner by the hearth. What if his dear little cousin was terribly ill? What if he died after saving those people?

 

He looked so small and weak. Not the strong, laughing, mischievous lad Frodo was used to having around. Frodo felt like crying at the mere thought. It was not fair! Merry was just a little lad. He forced those thoughts away and concentrated on the activity by the bed.

Drawing a deep breath when told to do so, Merry started coughing again, the healer holding him this time.

When the fit ended, he laid Merry back down against the pillows, and poked him a bit at the stomach, tickling as he did so. Merry did not squirm even a little, but stayed put, eyes closed, breathing high pitched and shallow.

“Give him a bath, not too hot, and put him back to bed. I’ll give him some tea to ease the coughing, and reduce that fever, but he should be fine with a couple of days in bed. And you ought to get some rest and food yourself Mistress.”

Esmeralda looked at the tray Frodo had brought, then shook her head and moved the chair back to the bedside again, taking Merry`s hand and stroking his curls. From the corner of her eye she saw Frodo coming forward too, kneeling by Merry`s head.
Saradoc thanked the healer and followed him outside Merry`s room.

“How bad is it?” he asked, anxiety in his eyes.

“It can go either way. But I want you to keep a close eye on him. Even if he is normally a strong lad, he is very weak now. The fever has taken a lot of his strength, and that coughing is not good. I’m not saying that he will get worse, but I am concerned about the effects of the coughing and his fever. It sounded like he has some fluid in his lungs. I’ll be by a bit later with the tea.”

Bathed and in clean sheets and nightshirt Merry slept again, tired out from the coughing and the fever stealing the energy of his body.

*****

When he awoke again, coughing, Frodo was sitting by his bed, tea mug in hand. He set the mug down and helped Merry sit up, one arm round his back, a hand on his forehead, steadying his head. Frodo had not bothered going to the great hall to eat, but had brought something with him to Merry`s room when he had relieved Esmeralda of the watch. Most of it stood untouched though. He was too anxious about Merry to eat much.

“Hullo there. How are you feeling?” he said after the fit passed, Merry resting in his arms.

“Stuffy and achy and my chest hurts too.” Merry shifted a little. “And thirsty”.

Frodo got the water mug from the nightstand and helped Merry take a few sips. He put his hand on Merry`s forehead. “You have a fever you know. That would make you achy. And your body is probably tired of coughing so much.” He tried to sound calm, but Frodo was scared about how ill Merry was.

“Mmmm…” Merry fell back against Frodo and closed his eyes.

“Go back to sleep, love. It’s the best thing for you.” Frodo wrung out the cloth and put it back on Merry`s brow, brushing away limp curls. He would need more cool water soon.

*****

“My lad Will says that the young Master saved lives in Standelf the other day. They say he rode from the Hall down there in no time, and that if he hadn’t come to alert them about the trees coming down the river, hobbits could have died,” one farmer said to another.

“Aye. Ah… Here’s the Master himself. Maybe he can tell us more?” the other said.

The rain had stopped for now, and workers were storing away the sandbags and the trenches were filled again. Buckland was preparing to go back to normal. Saradoc had, even if he did not want to with Merry sick, ridden up to the Bridge to check on things there. He would ride to Standelf later. He arrived the inn in Newbury just in time to hear the farmer’s comment about Merry`s actions.

“Come to check on the Bridge, Master?” the first farmer said.

“Yes. I’ve been up there already and everything seems to be in order. It looks like you lot did a good job. It was your lad who came to the Hall with the message? You tell him I’m glad he made that journey. If he had not been so fast, our messenger would not have come to Standelf in time.” Saradoc had of course told the lad this himself, but it did not hurt to tell the father as well. He was always pleased when someone told him that Merry had done a fine job with something.

“Aye. And where’s your lad? We have hardly seen you without him lately. He went down to Standelf himself, didn’t he?” The curiosity was plain on his face. Hobbits liked to gossip, and if there was some news about the Master or his family, every Bucklander saw it as his or her right to know. They loved their Master, and old Rory. And Saradoc had proved to be a good, conscientious caretaker of the strip of land between the Brandywine and the Old Forest. Little Merry was also showing his potential as the upcoming Master, even if that was a long time ahead.

Saradoc thought a moment before answering. He knew that whatever was said would be repeated and multiplied several times by who knew how many before they were finished. But he had to tell the truth. If there was one thing Saradoc had tried to make Merry understand, it was that he always should be truthful. He could do no less himself.

“He’s back at the Hall,” he finally said.

“Busy with other things today is he? That's a shame as he seems eager enough to travel around the Shire with you. Or that Baggins cousin of his.”

“He’s ill.” Saradoc said. “He’s come down with a cold, and is being kept in bed.”

“Oh. I am sorry to hear that,” the first farmer said. Hobbits would gossip about all and nothing, but they never liked it if someone was ill, especially not if it was a child. And this was the Master’s child, a lad that had shown great valor with his actions.
They had the attention of all the visitors in the inn by now, and the farmer said “Give him our best then, if you please, Master.”

“I will” Saradoc said. He had thought about staying for luncheon, but decided against it, he would never be back at the Hall before dark and he had to ride to Standelf too. And he had a sudden desire to see how Merry was faring.

Merry had, of course, not been far away from his father’s thoughts all day, but now Saradoc felt the urge to sit by his bedside and watch over his son. It suddenly came to him that he had only this one child, and he vowed to look after his little Merry-lad as much as he possibly could. Mounting his pony, he kicked it in to a brisk run for the Hall. He would risk a quick stop there before going to Standelf