Chapter 17. Of Warm Milk and Honey 

Goldilocks wakened reluctantly from sleep. Something was amiss, but her foggy brain could not immediately grasp what it was. Faramir moaned and thrashed beside her. She hauled herself upright, shaking her husband’s shoulder. ‘Farry!’ she said. ‘Farry, it’s all right, just a dream, my love.’

 ‘No,’ he moaned in reply. ‘No, don’t!’

 ‘Farry!’ Goldi said, rather louder than she meant to, for there was a tap on the door and Dobby, the servant on duty for the night, stuck his head in.

 ‘Is there aught you be needing, Mistress?’ he said.

 ‘No... wait, yes,’ Goldi said. ‘Two mugs of warmed milk, if you please, with honey.’ Might as well let the hobbit make himself useful, since he was obliged to stay wakeful anyhow. Goldi had argued with Farry when she’d first taken up residence in the Great Smials, but now she was becoming accustomed to living surrounded by servants, even as she figured out ways to side-step their constant and rather inconvenient availability.

 ‘Yes’m,’ Dobby said, withdrawing.

She shook Farry’s shoulder again. ‘Farry!’ she said. By the light of the watch-lamp she saw his eyes open, blinking, finally finding her face. ‘That’s better,’ she murmured. ‘You were having a bad dream.’

 ‘Was that what it was,’ he said sleepily. He sat up and hugged her fiercely. ‘O Goldi!’ She could feel him shaking.

 ‘What is it, Farry?’ she said. ‘What is the matter?’

 ‘I dreamed...’ he said, and stopped. ‘No, for it is too terrible.’

 ‘Tell me,’ Goldi said softly, her fingers stroking in long, soothing arcs across Faramir’s back.

It took some persuading, but finally Faramir took a shuddering breath, sat back, met her eyes and said, ‘It was my da...’

 ‘Your father?’ Goldi said when he stopped. ‘What, did he stay in Gondor and send word that you were to be Thain from now on?’

 ‘O Goldi,’ he said again, ‘they were... they were... no, I cannot.’

 ‘Tell me,’ she said once more, hugging him close. He was breathing raggedly, and she soothed and comforted and coaxed until he whispered into her tousled curls.

 ‘Angmar...’

Her blood ran cold at the word, but she nodded. ‘Yes...’ she said.

 ‘They were... they held him down, they were cutting... he fought and screamed and then...’ Farry caught his breath, shaking as the power of the dream returned with the recounting.

 ‘It’s all right,’ she soothed, ‘It’s all right, Farry, ‘twas a dream and nothing more. You oughtn’t to eat peppered stew so late at night, for it disturbs your sleep most awfully.’

 ‘Peppered stew,’ Farry said after a moment, his breathing becoming steadier.

 ‘That is all it was, my love,’ Goldi said. Her own midnight supper was sitting rather uneasily.

Another tap at the door and Dobby was there, bearing two steaming mugs of honeyed milk. ‘Here you are, sir and mistress,’ he said. Goldi thanked him and he beamed. ‘Glad to be of service,’ he replied, and bowed his way out the door.

Goldi sipped cautiously at the milk, but found that it stayed down and steadied her stomach. ‘Drink up, Farry,’ she said at last, setting her empty mug aside. ‘You need your sleep; we’re leaving early, you know.’

 ‘Yes, love,’ Faramir said obediently. He finished his mugful, and gave the mug to Goldi to set aside with her own. Undoubtedly Dobby would listen for snores before he eased the door open again, to spirit the mugs away while they slept. Servants delighted in such sneakiness. He laid himself down again, pulling Goldi firmly against him, snuggling with a sigh. It wasn’t long before he was snoring again.

***

Elessar waved a hand before Ferdibrand’s unseeing eyes. ‘How long has he been so?’ he asked.

Pimpernel took a deep breath before replying. Her grasp on reality was growing, and she knew, in her head, that they were among friends, that these Big People meant only good to her and those she loved, but her heart still gave warning whenever one of them entered the room.

 ‘They carried him here, after we watched... we watched...’ she said, and stopped. The King nodded encouragement; she did not have to go into detail. ‘We lay down to sleep, the children all around us, and we did sleep, though I’d have thought it not possible...’ Her eyes narrowed with suspicion and she pointed an accusing finger. ‘There was something in the warmed milk,’ she said angrily.

 ‘Only honey,’ Elessar said. ‘After what that ruffian did, I can understand your thought. But I’d not put a sleeping potion in a drink, no matter how much you needed the rest, unless I told you it was there. You were warm and safe, surrounded by family, with no “Big folk” about, and the milk and honey relaxed you enough to gain the sleep you needed.’

Pimpernel nodded, relaxing slightly, though she kept her protective hold on her husband. ‘He was a bit distant last night, while I was coaxing the warm milk into him, but then he lay down and slept like a rock in the garden bed. I thought all was well, for if nightmares haunt him he cries out in his sleep, but he did not move nor waken me with a cry. But... He was like this when I wakened,’ she said. ‘Just sitting, and staring... not hearing a word that any of the children said, not hearing a word I said.’ She stroked her husband’s cheek with a gentle finger. ‘Ferdi?’ she said softly, ‘Come back to me? Please?’ There was no response, and tears sparkled in her eyes when she looked back to the King. ‘He’s gone, far away, and I don’t know how to call him back.’

 ‘We can try athelas,’ Elessar said, feeling his way delicately. Pimpernel was still fearful, chary of anything Men had to offer.

To his relief she nodded. ‘Pip has told me about it,’ she said. ‘I know you’ve used it on Ferdi before, and it did not harm him.’ She hesitated. ‘How is my brother?’ she asked.

 ‘Recovering,’ Elessar said. ‘He took a full mug of broth yesterday afternoon, ate a light supper last night and a full breakfast this morning; he can use his right hand again, he moved his right leg, and his memory is returning slowly.’

 ‘I’d never have believed it,’ Pimpernel said with a delicate shudder. ‘I thought you’d tricked us into agreeing to allow you to murder him, for some dark reason of your own.’ As Elessar opened his mouth to explain, yet again, she held up a hand to stop him. ‘Don’t,’ she said. ‘I understand now, what the problem was, and that it was the only way to save him. Still, don’t expect hobbits to come knocking at your door asking for your services anytime in the future!’

Elessar chuckled softly. ‘I will not,’ he said, ‘but let us at the very least see if athelas will bring your husband relief.’ He rose from the bed, moving slowly so as not to startle Pimpernel, or Ferdi for that matter, if the hobbit was able to notice anything at all around him. ‘I shall return after I consult with the healers here.’

 ‘Very well,’ Pimpernel said. She held Ferdibrand a little more tightly, careful of his bandaged back. She felt rather lost in the large bed, having sent the children off to breakfast and to play, that they might not be frightened by their father’s blank stare. Now she wished for their chatter to surround her, but no. It was better that they eat and play, thinking their father slept.

She waited for the King to leave the room before she spoke again. ‘All is well, Ferdi. I won’t let them hurt you.’