A/N-1: Hello friends! First, I must once again thank my friends Pearl Took and Mysterious Ways for their unending support and editing. Most wonderful lasses, they are! AND Congratulations to Pearl Took for being a Semi-Finalist in the Mithril Awards for three stories: Peregrin & Diamond, The Living is Easy, and A Flood, A Fall, A Finale, A Fever. Trust me--they’re all great stories! It took me and another well known author two reads to figure out the twists in Flood, but it’s worth it!

Second, in response to Carcilwen’s difficulties in sending reviews with ff.net, Pipwise Brandygin has said she’s experiencing the same problem, but if she clicks on the “refresh” button, the review goes through. I, myself, have run into those problems only to find out that the review went through anyway. They do in fact to through, because I *have* received your “unsuccessful” reviews, as I know other authors have received mine We just have to be patient with ff.net--it’s a huge website. My gratitude goes out to *all* of you who have taken the time and gone through these difficulties just to leave a review. Thank you seems inadequate, but it’s all that I have for right now.

Chapter Eighteen - A Little Help From My Friends

Pippin seemed asleep as Merry walked inside the bedroom, so he quietly sat down in one of the bedside chairs. Pimpernel had fallen asleep in the chair on the other side of the bed. He got up and carried her out to the couch in the sitting room. Just before he walked away, she mumbled something.

“What was that, Miss Pim?” Merry softly teased. “I’m in trouble?” he smiled, whispering into her ear. “You may still be older than me, but just you remember who’s bigger than whom now!”

Pimpernel turned over, opening one reddened eye, “You enjoy that a bit too much,” she answered with a sleep heavy voice, then she grinned tiredly. Merry took the lap quilt lying across the back of the couch and covered his cousin with it, kissing her forehead. He straightened up; looking across the room, he saw his uncle was snoring softly while sitting in the chair. Merry looked about room trying to spy another quilt. The only thing he saw was one of the baby blankets that Lilas had knitted and folded into a pile. Merry unfolded one and saw it was enough to cover his uncle’s upper body. Better than catching a chill, he thought, as he laid it across the elder hobbit’s chest, then returned to Pippin’s bedside.

Merry sat for a while listening to the soft, rhythmic breathing of his cousin. Not quite a year ago, Merry sat with him after the Battle at the Black Gate, helping to nurse his broken cousin back to health. And at that time, Pippin wasn’t breathing this easy. Presently though, Pippin’s nose seemed clear, but after a coughing spasm, Merry gave up on the hope of his cousin’s chest being clear. Merry cupped a handkerchief near Pippin’s mouth, telling the tween to spit into it.

“Where’s my mother?” Pippin asked, sitting up against his pillows.

Merry disposed of the soiled cloth then sat again in the chair. “She and Lilas went to the kitchens to make more of the broth you requested. How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve just been stampeded by an Oliphant,” answered Pippin.

Merry grinned at his cousin’s humor. “That bad, eh?”

Pippin sipped on the glass of water left by Pimpernel. “Not really. My head still aches a little, but I’m fine.” He let Merry feel his forehead.

“I’m glad to see that you’re none for the worse.” Merry pulled the blankets up as far as they would go around Pippin’s shoulders. “You ought to rest more.”

Pippin saw the tired expression on his friend’s face. “You ought to take your own advice.”

“I haven’t been here all night, like others have.”

“You’ve been everywhere but where you should have been--in bed asleep,” Pippin put in, remembering his own nightmares weeks before. “Are they bad?” That was a moot question, but Pippin empathized with his dearest cousin. He saw Merry shrug. Pippin spoke softly, “Will they ever stop?”

“Don’t know, Pip.” Merry shifted uneasily in his chair, then changed the subject. “I noticed Lilas’ tummy this morning. Your baby’s growing.”

Pippin smiled, though with a bit of trepidation, “I know. It’s scary sometimes.”

“Scary? Why is that?”

“I can barely explain it myself,” Pippin reached deep into his thoughts, “but when I see her tummy getting bigger the whole truth of me being a father rises to the surface. It’s a mixture of fear and blessings--wondering if I will be a good father.” He paused for his next words. “And when I touched her belly the other night, I nearly cried. This baby is part of me,” he trailed off in wondrous thought. “Will my son have brown eyes or green eyes?”

“How do you know it’s a lad?” Merry smiled teasingly. “What if your baby’s a lass? Have you picked out any names for him or her?” Merry emphasized her.

“Not yet,” said Pippin. “We have yet to start work on the nursery.”

“Well you’d better hurry!” Merry laughed, “Your little bundle is going to arrive in little more than three months!” Then he smiled, “I’m here at the Smials with no other purpose than to be here for you, cousin. Lilas can’t help you now--she’ll injure herself. There’s lots of work to do; you’ll need to clean out the old room, paint it and hire a carpenter to build the furniture, then arrange the room so it looks like a nursery. I can help you with all of that.”

Pippin had been feeling a bit overwhelmed with the task of late. He returned is friend’s smile, “Thanks, Merry.”

* * *

A couple days later, Lilas entered the bedroom and quickly closed the door behind her. Pippin stood at his bureau washing his face. Lilas handed her husband a towel to dry up. “Just where do ye think ye’re headed off t’?”

“I’m going to see if Merry wants to go to the mercantile in town to purchase some nails and such so we can get started on the nursery.”

“The healer said ye have t’ stay in bed another day. Besides,” Lilas frowned, “I thought me and you were gonna decorate the nursery.”

“We are, Lilas,” Pippin refolded the damp towel and placed it next to the basin. “But there’s work to be done first. And as it seems the healer isn’t going to pitch in and help, I’ve decided to take it upon myself to go to town.”

“What sort of work is needed?” Lilas took the damp towel and put it in the laundry bin.

Pippin thought there was a note to her voice that seemed a bit odd. “Washing it thoroughly for one thing--to be rid of the dust that has gathered over the years.”

“What else?”

Pippin shot a look at his wife. “Painting the walls,” he answered. “Why are you acting so strange?”

Her brow furrowed, making a pretense of offense. “I’m not actin’ strange.”

Pippin narrowed his eyes at her. “What are you up to?” he asked, heading for the door. Lilas ran in front of the door, spreading out her arms to bar the way. “Lastly, you’ll have to find another barrier to keep me from opening this door!” Pippin reached under Lilas’ arms, picked her up then placed her down behind him and out of his way.

“That wasn’t fair.”

“After you’ve had a few Ent draughts and have grown another ten inches, then you can tell me what’s fair,” he said, with a bit of haughtiness. Then he swung open the door.

“SURPRISE!!”

Pippin froze in place. There stood a group of his friends--some he hadn’t seen since he was married. He scanned the group with his eyes; Merry, Estella, Everard, Laurel, Pimpernel, Pervinca, Frodo, Sam, Rosie, Fredegar, and Ferdibrand. Pippin stood there dumbfounded.

Pervinca laughed at his expression, “What’s the matter, brother? Cat got your tongue?”

Pippin slowly made his way round his circle of friends, embracing or kissing them in greeting. When he finished he “found” his tongue. “What is the celebration for?”

“We just wanted to celebrate, cousin,” Merry piped in, “but because we’re all here to start the course of converting your other bedroom into a nursery, we decided to commemorate it.” He handed Pippin a mug, then held his own up in salutation. “To Pippin, Lilas--and Baby Took.” Everyone echoed the toast, clinking their mugs or glasses together.

Pippin drank from his mug while Lilas stood next to him, holding onto his arm and his hand. He looked around at various mugs being passed around. Not everyone was an ale drinker, but they sipped from a friend’s mug to share in the toast. *Pippin allowed Lilas one sip from his own mug then teased her, “Back to the tea party with the other lasses!” Yet he couldn’t escape her sensitive brown eyes. Was it the vibrant force in the air? Pippin couldn’t answer that question, but he leaned down and kissed his wife. Cheers and whistles were heard from the group of friends.

Hours later, as things began winding down for supper, Merry sat down on the floor next to Pippin. Pippin’s fever had broken the day before, so he was yet recuperating from his bout with a bad cold. After a couple of nasty coughing spasms, Merry told him he must either sit down for a while, or go back to bed like the healer said. Without argument, Pippin sat down as suggested. “All they would let me do is hold the nails and hammers anyway,” he feigned emotional injury, but he was glad to rest for a little while.

Merry smirked, “That was the idea. There will still be lots of work to do in days to come, but since you’ve been sick, we all wanted to help out, Pip. You don’t have too much time left before your Little Pippin arrives.”

Pippin’s eyes traveled to the group of lasses surrounding his wife. “The biggest surprise is Pervinca. How did she get here so quickly?”

“Actually,” Merry took a sip from his mug then set it down. “I didn’t send a letter or courier to Buckland. I saw her and Brody arrive last night from Brandy Hall. We got to talking and she mentioned that she came to visit in answer to a letter your mum sent her.” A quizzical look came over his cousin. “Apparently,” Merry explained further, “Pimpernel has made the decision to live here at the Smials until her children are old enough to go back to live at the farm in Whitwell. She needs to return right now though in order to gather a few items and clean up a bit. You, Pervinca, and I will need to be on hand for that task, Pip.”

“So it’s not just the farm smial she will be dealing with,” said Pippin. “Also the memories of Hil.” Merry nodded. Pippin continued, “I miss Hilfred, too. It will be strange to go through the old smial and him not be there.”

“But Hilfred wasn’t your husband, Pippin.”

Pippin rolled his eyes, “I should say not!” His eyes met with his cousin’s. “I’ll be there, Merry. She’s my sister, and she’s been here for me as well.”

*A/N-2: Even though we know better now, folks back then had no clue that alcohol affected an unborn child. However, I allowed a fictional, pregnant Lilas one sip, and that is all. We do know better these days and I certainly don’t want any modern-day lass to think that this is appropriate behavior today. Just know that when a lass is pregnant or nursing--anything she ingests goes directly to her blood system, and then directly to her unborn baby, or via her milk to the child. NEVER drink alcohol while pregnant or nursing.