Chapter Thirty-Five - Uncertainties

“Well?” asked Pippin. He sat in the sitting room chair on edge waiting for Merimas to explain about Lilas’ illness when he emerged from the bedroom.

“I’m not entirely certain, Pippin,” Merimas answered, half in thought. He walked up to where the tween sat. “But I gave her a routine exam. Her lungs are clear, no runny nose or sore throat. She did tell me of a slight belly ache. It could be something as simple as her eating food that didn’t agree with her at luncheon.”

“She ate nothing unusual, and I ate the same things as her,” Pippin continued, standing up. “If the food was bad, then I would be sick, too.”

“Not necessarily,” Merimas replied. “She may be more sensitive to certain foods than you. To answer the question of your wife being sick and not you, she may have developed this sensitivity while she was carrying Rosebud. However, to be on the safe side, when Cassia returns, you should ask her to examine Lilas.”

Pippin sighed. “I looked for her, but was told she’s in Tuckborough right now.” He was becoming anxious by the minute. Pippin nervously licked his lips, then asked, “Do you think its…”

Merimas waited a moment then raised his eyebrows, “Do I think its what?”

After the birth of his daughter, Cassia had explained to Pippin a few signs to watch for in Lilas. But between the excitement of a new baby and his exhaustion, he didn’t give the midwife his full attention, and now he regretted it. He should have written down everything she said because now all he could remember was something about cramping. Pippin ran his hands through his hair, “Do you think it has something to do with her having Rosebud?”

Pippin saw a flicker of concern in the healer’s eyes, but nothing forthcoming. “Tell me, Merimas.”

“I have told you all I know.”

“Not all of it,” said Pippin, seeing Merimas turn away his gaze. “You’re hiding something.”

Merimas sat down on the couch, however, Pippin remained standing; too stressed to sit down. He paced between the tea table and his chair. Merimas was slow to speak, knowing how his young brother-in-law might react. “She’s recently given birth, Pippin. I may not be a midwife, but I do possess the experience to ascertain one illness from another by examining the patient.” Pippin had stopped pacing; Merimas wanted to hide from the steadfast gaze of those green eyes. He continued, “I don’t want to rule out just yet the possibility of her belly ache being from something she ate, but…”

“But?” Pippin asked a bit tersely.

“She’s not vomited.”

“She wouldn’t necessarily have to vomit, would she? Her belly ache may manifest itself in…other manners.”

“That’s why I haven’t ruled it out entirely. If by tomorrow she doesn’t show other signs of having ate food that she is now sensitive to, then there is only one--possibly two other illnesses that she may have contracted.”

Presently, Eglantine came out of the bedroom cradling a sleeping Rosebud--once again content, wrapped in a blanket and the warmth of her grandma’s love. Eglantine walked slowly so as not to awaken the infant, relishing every second that she held her newest granddaughter.

“So what do you think of Lilas, mother?” asked Pippin in a soft voice, knowing well that his own mother had helped a midwife or two--and never discounting her own experience as a mother.

Eglantine had indeed experienced the aftercare of several young, first-time mothers, however, only one of the lasses became sick soon after birth. Eglantine wished not to dwell on that, seeing the serene, little face of Rosebud peeking through the blanket. She spoke barely above a whisper. “I’m not quite certain.”

Pippin jumped up out of his chair, “Would somebody please give me a solid answer??”

“Merimas, would you care to hold your baby niece for a bit?”

Puzzled, but Merimas was quick to answer, “Certainly!” Gently, Eglantine handed Rosebud to the healer, then took her son out to the hallway.

“I cannot have you getting upset around Lilas, Pippin. Right now, she is awake, knitting something that she says will be special.” She took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “I have seen this before, but never with one so closely related to me. I don’t want to overstep my bounds with guesses and predictions.”

Pippin’s Tookish lilt became thicker the more aggravated he got. “If you don’t want to see me getting upset, mother, then tell me!” His hands gestured in the air as he spoke, “I--I am sick of everyone talking to me but not telling me what is actually going on! That is why I’m getting so frustrated. If you know something, then tell me what it is.”

“Do you remember at all anything Cassia said after Rosebud was born? Pimpernel was helping Lilas bathe at the time.”

“I only remember to watch out for cramping.”

“But you’ve never been around a hobbit-lass who is cramping, have you?”

“I have three sisters, mother.”

“Its not that sort of cramping,” said Eglantine, putting her hand on her son’s shoulder. “It starts out that way, but grows intense as the illness progresses. I hope I am mistaken, Pip, but I have a feeling Lilas is going to be a very sick lass. Cassia needs to see her as soon as she returns to the Smials.”

“I’m going to send word to her right now.” With that, Pippin left to find a courier.

“What are you making? Another baby blanket?” Pippin sat on the bed watching Lilas’ knitting needles twirl as she slipped and purled. He was now holding Rosebud in his arms. She had woke up whimpering, then went back to sleep as soon as Pippin put his pinkie finger in her mouth to help soothe her--and that is how father and daughter were so attached at the moment. He could feel her sucking on his finger every now and then, but mostly she dozed.

“No,” replied Lilas. “Nothin’ like that.” Her knitting was going a bit slower because she wasn’t feeling so well, but she was able to sit up and have a nice conversation with her husband while their daughter slept peacefully.

“Then what is it?”

“I can’t tell ye!” Lilas snickered. “It’s a surprise for ye--for my birthday. I’ll be thirty next month.”

“The fifth, right?”

Lilas nodded. “My brother Sabo was born on the sixth, but Ma always made us each our own cake, though. It made me feel special that my birthday wasn’t shared--like everything else.”

Pippin smiled, “My mother would have loved it if she could get away with something like that! Not really, though, but none of my sisters’ birthdays were close to mine, or each others.” He looked down when Rosebud began to squirm. “Hullo, my little muffin!” he smiled at her, seeing his baby daughter was awake. Rosebud opened her eyes when she heard her papa’s voice. Pippin gasped as he beamed at her, resting her back against his drawn up legs. “Look at those bright eyes!” Rosebud gazed at her papa’s face until she could bring it into focus.

“She’s lookin’ at her Pa,” said Lilas, grabbing for a baby blanket nearby to wipe the dribble from her daughter’s chin. “She already knows what her Ma looks like.”

“Wait--she’s getting red in the face,” Pippin remarked. “What’s happening?”

Lilas continued to wipe away the drool from Rosebud’s chin and neck. “There’s nothin’ wrong with her--she’s fine, Pippin.” Lilas playfully whisked Pippin’s chin with the blanket when she was done with her daughter.

Pippin couldn’t believe Lilas was so calm about this. “But look at her face!” Then he felt it--suddenly something was warm where his daughter’s bum met with his legs. A pungent odor wafted up to his nostrils. “Do you believe that? She just filled her nappy right here on my lap!”

Lilas went back to her knitting, smirking the entire time. “The clean ones are right where I left them on my bureau this morning.”

Pippin looked at Rosebud, “I guess that means we’re on our own.” He had helped to change her wet nappies many times, but this was his first excursion into a “filled” nappy. He got up to fetch a clean one to change the baby.

“Don’t forget a cloth t’ wipe her with.” Lilas grinned as Pippin got up again for a wiping cloth. He was halfway back to the bed when she gave yet another instruction.

“Ye have t’ wet it a bit in the basin.”

She’s enjoying this far too much!, he thought as Lilas grinned. Soon, Pippin had his daughter clean and dry in a fresh nappy. Dropping the soiled cloth into the hamper he remarked with a sour face, “Oy--we could have won the War using one of them! That smell would have been enough to make even Sauron recoil.”

Lilas laughed a bit, “Pippin! Ye’re talkin’ about our daughter!”

After washing his hands, Pippin set Rosebud in his lap again, talking to her. “And you would have had songs sung and tales woven about you--Rosebud Took and the Noxious Nappy! Wouldn’t you, Muffin?” Rosebud wasn’t concerned with songs and tales; she would be satisfied with just finding her papa’s finger again. Oh, well, her fist would have to do for right now.

“Stop it, Pippin!” Lilas giggled, holding her belly with her hand, “Ye’re makin’ me laugh too hard.”

“I’m sorry, Lilas--I’ll stop.” Pippin had all but forgotten about Lilas being ill. Jesting was just one way of his wanting to make her feel better.

Rosebud began to fuss a little; her fist didn’t quite seem to be doing the trick. Pippin handed the baby to Lilas, “I’ll let you wrap her in the blankets, while I go and get the cradle from the sitting room.”

“That’s fine, but she may want t’ fill up her corners a bit before taking another nap.”

Pippin brought the cradle back into the bedroom, setting it on the floor right beside Lilas’ side of the bed. “It’s not quite suppertime for her, is it?”

“No, but I think she takes after yer side of the family when it comes t’ eatin’.” Pippin couldn’t deny that, watching the baby snuggle up to momma.

“How are you feeling?” He sat down on the edge of the bed, then felt Lilas’ forehead. “Still warm.”

“I’m fine for now,” she answered. “Just a wee headache.”

Just then a faint knock was heard on the outer door in the sitting room. Pippin made no move to get up. “Aren’t ye going t’ answer that?” Lilas asked him.

“Either they’ll go away, or, if they’re family, they’ll help themselves inside.”

Sure enough, Eglantine’s voice could be heard just beyond the bedroom door. “Is it all right if we come in?”

“Who’s with you?” asked Pippin, protective of his nursing wife.

“I’ve brought Cassia with me.”

“Yes!” Pippin nearly jumped off the bed to greet his mother and the midwife as they entered the bedroom. He gave full account of his and Lilas’ day.

“Very well, Pippin, but will you excuse us while I look at Lilas?”

Pippin nodded, then went to wait in the sitting room. Closing the door behind him, Pippin saw his father and Merimas both sitting on the couch. He sat down quietly in the chair, wondering why they had accompanied his mother and Cassia. Ten minutes later, Cassia emerged from the bedroom, closing the door behind her. “Mr. Merimas, may I speak with you out in the hallway?” Merimas rose up, following the midwife outside.

“It’s just as you said,” Cassia spoke suddenly when she heard the outer door shut. “No sign of a head cold, just a fever, a headache, and cramping. I can eliminate the other illness you were speaking of earlier; there was something else in her symptoms that told me she has the Fever. She definitely has it.”

Merimas said nothing. He leaned against the wall, letting out a long breath. “He has to know.”

“We really should wait until tomorrow when we can truly say its not any food that she ate today.”

“No, he ought to be told everything right now,” Merimas replied firmly. “If I were in his place, I would want to know if Pervinca was…ill.”

Cassia also leaned against the wall. “I truly hate this part of my vocation.”

“Me, too.” Neither healer nor midwife spoke for a long minute. Finally, Cassia went to the door, opening it, she asked for Pippin to join her and Merimas in the hallway. Unknown to Pippin, Paladin trailed him out there.

When the door shut, Pippin had seen that his father had followed, then saw the solemn expressions on the faces of the other two. He felt his heart quicken, his legs became like bags of sand. But he said nothing.

Merimas looked away as Cassia’s professional manner took over. “Pippin, Merimas and I have come to the conclusion that unless Lilas produces other consequences of ingesting rancid food earlier today, then there is only one other illness that she could possibly have.”

Pippin glanced from midwife to healer. “What illness is that?”

“I believe she has contracted the Fever--an infection that occurs in the womb a few days after a hobbit-woman has given birth. It doesn’t affect every hobbit-woman. Perhaps one hobbit out of every hundred or so. Sometimes it shows up immediately while in others it may take as long as a week.”

“Is there something that I can do to help?”

Merimas softly replied, “All we can do is make her as comfortable as possible.”

Trying not to sound like he was becoming alarmed, Pippin asked, “But--but if its not the food, then when will she get better?” No one answered. Now he was definitely alarmed. Pippin shuffled nervously from one foot to the other while he tried to think of questions to ask, but none came. His heart started to pound as he figured out what they were not saying. His eyes started to well with tears, his voice cracking with emotion, “Wh-why do I get the feeling that she’s not going to get any better?” Sniffling, Pippin wiped his eyes then started for the door.

“No! Pippin!” Merimas grabbed for Pippin.

“Let go of me!” Pippin cried, tears streaming freely down his face.

“You can’t go back in there upset like this!” Paladin also had a hold of Pippin. “you won’t do any good by getting Lilas upset as well.”

“Let go of me!” Pippin tried wrestling out of their grasp, but even as tall as he was, he was still a slim lad--easily taken down by two grown, healthy hobbits. “Let--go--of--!” The tween resigned himself to being carried by his father and brother-in-law into Merimas’ guest suite. Cassia left the lads to deal with Pippin while she went back inside the apartment to help see to Lilas’ comfort.

Inside Merimas and Pervinca’s suite, Pippin lay upon the couch with his face towards the back, sobbing a torrent of tears. “Why?” he weeped. “Why her--why Lilas?”

“The Fever knows no boundaries, Pippin. It strikes the wealthy, the poor, the young, and even ladies who have already had a few children.” Merimas sat wearily in the chair of his suite. Paladin sat in the other. “We won’t know for certain until tomorrow.”

“Cassia seemed quite certain in her words.” Pippin sniffed, suddenly turning to face them with red nose and cheeks, “Was it something that I did? I probably helped bring it on by taking her outside today.”

“There was nothing that you did, son,” Paladin said sadly. “There was nothing that any of us did.”

“Then I don’t understand,” Pippin argued. “I don’t understand how she got this illness if no one gave it to her.”

“This type of sickness isn’t passed around like a head cold,” explained Merimas. “It doesn’t only attack the womb; infections attack any open wound within or upon a hobbit’s body. When it enters a external wound, at least then we can try to alleviate the infection, though it may not always work. When the wound is internal, there is little that we can do.”

Pippin lay upon the couch, curled up with a pillow, sobbing his heart out--his heart breaking at the thought of Lilas. Paladin got up, sitting on the edge of the couch, he pulled Pippin up to sit, then enveloped him in his arms, weeping right along with his son. “I’m so sorry, Pip.”

Pippin’s thoughts went back to the garden earlier that day, sharing laughter and kisses with Lilas. In his mind’s eye, not a week ago he was again being gently shoved away by this very lass so that he could see their precious daughter being born. He was again in his father’s lettuce patch, sweaty and dirty--but willing to search for the perfect head of lettuce for Lilas. Pippin relived every sweet moment he and Lilas shared over the past several months. When exactly did she capture his affections? For all that he wasn’t in love with her, why did his heart feel like it was being torn in two? Then he recalled what Pimpernel told him several months ago in Whitwell. It made him cry even more, now realizing he could very well be experiencing the very same thing.

TBC