VI

The morning appeared to be weeping for Pippin and his family. The sky was a heavy leaden grey, the rain a thick steady curtain that stole the colors from the world. Through the night Pippin's bouts of coughing had continued. His Mother was exhausted. She hadn't left Pippin's side all through the weary night, fearing that something would go wrong and that she wouldn't be there to help. Pearl had also stayed. She had let her Mother sit by Pippin's side, holding his hand in one of hers while her other hand rested on his cheek or ran over and over through his hair. Pearl had willingly done everything to maintain the poultices and actually care for Pippin. She had sensed that both her Mother and her Brother needed the caresses, the soft words and hummed lullabies.

Merry was upset when he awoke. The dull gray light in the small room told him it was morning which meant that Pearl had let him sleep much longer than the three hours she had promised. His Uncle Paladin was asleep in a big easy chair so Merry was quiet as he left to return to Pippin's room. He had intended to let Pearl have a piece of his mind over letting him sleep so long but his frustration drained away when he opened Pippin's bedroom door. Pearl sat in the over-stuffed chair, which had been pulled up to the far side of the bed. She was sound asleep. At the near side of the bed his Aunt Eglantine sat slouched over also asleep, her head on the pillow next to Pippin's. Merry looked lovingly at Pippin, his Aunt Eglantine and Pearl. He bent down to kiss his Aunt's cheek. His Aunt was like a second Mother to him, he had spent so much time in her home, and he cared for her deeply. He got his Uncle and Pearl's husband. They carried their wives to their own rooms and put them to bed. Merry alone now watched over Pippin.

Merry sat down in the chair where his Aunt had been sitting. He took Pippin's hand between his own as he looked anxiously at his cousin's face. The hand he held felt cold, the face he looked upon was drawn and colorless. Pippin was always sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks. Pippin didn't look like this. Merry swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. He hated it when his dear younger cousin became so ill. Carefully moving Pippin's scarf over to one side, he laid his ear to Pippin's chest. He heard the soft thudding of Pippin's heart. Merry closed his eyes and sighed, now he would just have to . . . have to what? What was there that he could do? He wiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes.

"Well Pippin," he said to the still face on the pillow, "what do I do now? I'm no healer. And you're so sick Pip. I mean, you've been sick before, so have I. It just seems worse this time. I guess because of what happened." Merry started to rub Pippin's cold hand, then he thought about the warm herbal oil he had noticed last night on the hearth while he had been fetching the hot water. He gently let go of Pippin's hand before going over to the fire place where the small pot of oil sat on the hearth near the fire. He tested it with his finger. It seemed a good temperature to him so he took the pot and set it on the bedside table. Merry moved the ends of Pippin's scarf off of his chest bunching them up on the bed just above his shoulders. He unbuttoned Pippin's night shirt, pulled it open, then he poured a bit of the oil into his palm. Hesitantly at first then smoother and more steadily he massaged the warm oil into his cousin's pale cool skin.

"I know this feels good Pip, you can't tell me it doesn't. My Mum has done this for me when I've had colds so I know how good it feels." He paused to get some more oil. "I'm sure your chest aches." Merry sniffed, his eyes had started to tear up again and his nose to run a bit. "It's all I know how to do Pip, other than just sit here talking to you. It's all I can do, so you'll just have to let me do it." Merry massaged Pippin's chest and sides until his hands grew tired. Then he overlapped the sides of the night shirt, pulled down the ends of the scarf and pulled up the covers, all the while talking about anything that came into his head.

An hour later Pervinca brought Merry some tea. He took a few sips then an idea occurred to him. There was something else he could do. Merry reached around Pippin's shoulders to lift him up a bit. He put a small bit of the tea into the spoon. He brought the spoon to his cousin’s slightly opened lips and dribbled the tea into Pippin's mouth. Pippin swallowed the tea. Merry gave him a few more sips of the tea then laid Pippin's head back down on the pillow. When Pervinca returned for the mug, Merry asked her for some broth, if they had any. In a while she returned with a bowl of rich chicken broth. Merry again lifted Pippin up a bit to feed him some of the broth. Not much, a few spoonfuls at a time, ever so slowly until half the broth was gone. Merry got up and put the bowl of broth on the hearth to keep it warm. Pervinca had also brought fresh rubbing oil, placing it on the hearth. Merry picked up the oil. It was time for Pippin to have another massage.

Eglantine woke up with a start. Where was she? Where was Pippin? Why wasn't she with him? She sat up quickly. It was then she recognized her own room.

"Are you alright, Dear?" Paladin had hurried to the bedside when his wife sat up so quickly.

"I didn't realize where I was at first." She was starting to panic. "Why aren't I with Pippin? I should be with him Paladin, he needs . . ." She grabbed hold of his hand with a fierce strength. "He does still need me, Paladin, he's not . . . not dead, is he? Please tell me he still needs me." Her voice was pleading, her eyes filled with fear.

"He lives still Lanti, he still needs you." She grabbed her husband, burying her face in his chest. For a few moments she stayed sobbing against him, relief releasing her-pent up emotions. Then she took a deep breath as she looked up at him.

"Pearl is with him then, that's good. She's become a competent healer."

"No, Pearl fell asleep as well."

Eglantine again looked panicked. "Then who is with Pippin? He shouldn't be alone, he needs someone there beside him! My mother always said that the sick need the presence of someone with them. He . . ."

"Merry is with him." Paladin interrupted in a calm tone. "Merry is talking to him. Holding his hand. Merry's even been massaging Pippin's chest with the oil you made." He pulled his wife closer while gently rubbing her head. "We wouldn't leave Peregrin alone Lanti, we know better than that. I've checked in on them and Merry is taking good care of Pippin." He gently tilted her head back so their eyes met. He smiled a gentle smile. "Your hair is a mess and you've been in that same dress I think since Pippin fell ill. Why don't you have a bath and freshen up a bit, Dear? You'll feel better I'm sure."

"I think you're right Paladin." She leaned against him again as she squeezed him, then she pulled away. "If you really think that Merry is doing alright?"

"Yes, I think he is. While you're getting freshened up, I'll have Ordegar wake Pearl and suggest that she have a bath as well. Then you'll both be feeling better. Go on now, get your bath." He tousled her hair lovingly then left to tell Ordegar the plan while Lanti prepared for her bath.

When she had finished her bath, Eglantine returned to her room to get dressed and fix her hair. While she sat at her dressing table, her glance fell upon her jewelry box. Her hands slowly came down from brushing her hair and her lips parted slightly as she stared at the box. With trance-like movements she reached over and sprung the catch that released a hidden compartment. She removed one of the pieces of paper that lay in the velvet-lined drawer. Carefully she unfolded the fragile paper and read its contents, her lips softly forming the words as she read. She smiled and held the paper to her heart. She had forgotten, it had been nearly twenty-five years ago now. Did he remember writing it? She hurriedly finished with her hair and almost ran to Pippin's room.

Eglantine forced herself to enter Pippin's room calmly. "How is he doing Merry?" she said softly.

Merry jumped a bit, he hadn't heard the door as he had been talking to Pippin. "He's no worse Auntie, and maybe a bit better. I think he's not as pale at least." Merry seemed suddenly embarrassed. "I've been talking to him and massaging his chest with the oil." He nodded toward the fireplace where the pot of oil sat. "I’m no healer, not like you or Pearl. I hope that was alright for me to do."

"Yes Merry, those are just the right things to be doing." Eglantine put her arm around Merry's shoulders hugging him firmly. "We never know what someone can hear when they seem to be totally unconscious. My Mother taught me to talk to patients as much as possible, and to touch them, so they know they're not alone. Thank you for taking such good care of Pippin for me." She gave his shoulder another squeeze before walking around to the other side of the bed to sit down in the over-stuffed chair.

"I also fed Pippin several times, some tea and chicken broth." Merry said, still sounding unsure of himself. "Was that alright too? I mean, I know feeding him is alright, but is it something you don’t mind that I did?"

"Yes, as long as you were careful. He didn't choke at all did he?"

"No, I was careful. I lifted him up a little, then dribbled it slowly into his mouth. He didn't choke at all."

"Then it was fine, Merry." She smiled at Merry to reassure him, then she leaned forward in the chair. "Merry, do you remember when you first met Pippin?"

The question caught Merry off guard. He stammered a bit with his answer. "You, you . . . you mean very first met him? When he was a baby, you mean?"

Eglantine chuckled a little bit at Merry's response. "Yes, I mean the very first time, when he was only a few weeks old. Do you remember?"

"Yes," Merry said looking down at his ill cousin. "It seems strange to think of him as a baby, but yes I remember that day." He looked across the bed at his Aunt. "Why do you ask?"

"Tell me what you remember."

"Well, I wasn't even supposed to be there because you weren't feeling well and the baby had come too early. I hid with the luggage in the carriage. By the time I was found out it was too late to take me back home." His mischievous grin stole over his face, his indigo eyes sparkled. "I've always been naughty, haven't I?" Eglantine smiled and nodded. Merry continued. "When we got to your home in Whitwell, I wasn't supposed to go into your room, but I did that too. I just really wanted to see my new cousin. You and Uncle Paladin are my favorites and, no offense, it wasn't another girl cousin but a boy this time. So I was really good and really quiet. I didn't want to get sent out of the room."

"You did very well, Merry." His Aunt's voice was soft with memories. "You were quite the little gentlehobbit. I could hardly believe it was you." Merry looked embarrassed but was smiling. "What else?" Eglantine asked.

Merry stared off into the shadows in the corner of the room. "I couldn't quit staring at the baby." He almost sounded like the eight-year-old boy he had been at the time as the memories filled his mind. "I'd seen lots of babies and didn't really much care for them, but this one was different somehow. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to hold him, although I usually hated holding babies." Merry's eyes came back to the present but the memories were alive in his mind. "Do you remember Aunt Eglantine? I wanted to hold him. Mum and Dad didn't want me too but you said I could. I sat in a chair by your bed and held him for the longest time. Do you remember?"

"Yes. I remember."

"I held him until we left the room for you to nurse him before getting some rest. Even then, I really didn't want to give him back to you." Merry looked at Pippin while chuckling softly. "I wanted to keep him, to take him home with me. Like he was a puppy or something."

They sat quietly for a few minutes each one picturing in their mind the scene as they remembered it.

"Do you remember why you didn't want to let Pippin go, Merry?"

Merry blushed. He kept looking at Pippin to avoid his Aunt's eyes. "Yes," he said softly.

"Merry." Eglantine said his name quietly. When he looked up, he saw that she was holding out to him an old looking, folded up piece of paper. "Take it and open it," she said.

Merry knew what it was. He hadn't thought that his Aunt had kept it. He unfolded it carefully and looked at his childhood handwriting.

                                Aunt Eglantyne,

                                Meriadoc Brandybuck

                                         Pippin.

                                Nephew Merry,

                                Eglantine Took

Merry's mouth fell open in surprise. He had never seen the part his Aunt had appended to his childish statement. He looked over at her with his mouth still hanging open. She smiled at him.

"I never told you about that did I?" she said.

"No, you never spoke to me about the note at all. I always knew though." He looked back at the paper in his hand. "I knew that it was alright with you."

His Aunt nodded. "I somehow knew it as soon as you looked at Pippin in my room that day. I could tell that there was something special happening between you and my new little son." Eglantine reached across Pippin to touch Merry's hand. "I knew you two would be best friends, brothers of the heart." They looked at each other then Lanti looked down at Pippin. "In a way you really are brothers, and your Mother and I each have two sons." She continued to look at Pippin as she started to twist one of his golden brown curls around one of her fingers. "I did break my promise though, I told two people. I told Pearl and I told your Mother." She looked back up at Merry. "I hope you aren't upset with me."

"No." Merry grinned. "I would have been back then," he gestured with the note, "but not now. I know now that they wouldn't think it was stupid." His grin broadened into a smile. "I should have adopted Pearl as well, she's much more an older sister than a cousin to me."

Just then one of the servants knocked on the door. Sticking her head in, she announced that Master Saradoc and Mistress Esmeralda had arrived.

"Why don't you go and welcome your parents, Merry," Eglantine said, "but first, stop across the tunnel to let your Uncle Paladin know his sister is here if he doesn't already know about it. I would like some time alone with Pippin."

"Alright, Aunt Eglantine, but I won't be gone too long." He said as he tucked the old note into his pocket.

"I know Merry, even a quarter hour would be nice."

"I can handle that, Auntie." Merry grinned as he came around the bed to kiss her on the forehead before leaving. "Shall I bring my Mum then?"

"Yes, Merry, that would be just fine, thank you."

Merry took a long look at Pippin then went out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

For a few moments Eglantine just stared at her son. She had been so taken back to his babyhood while talking with Merry that this nearly grown hobbit in his tweens whose hair she was playing with almost seemed a stranger to her. Her hand moved to touch his cheek, just as she had touched his tiny face when he had been a baby.

He moved.

Pippin turned his head a bit, snuggling his face into the palm of his Mother's hand and she wept for joy.

"Pippin," she said his name as she moved her fingers to caress his cheek. He continued to press against her hand as a sigh escaped his lips.

"Feels so good." He softly muttered.

"Pippin!" Exclaimed his Mum, hardly able to believe she had heard him speak. With his eyes still closed, he continued.

"Always feels good. I feel safe." A smile came to his lips. "Feel loved." Slowly blinking, Pippin opened his eyes while slowly bringing his hand up to cover his Mum's hand and press it more firmly to his face. "Hullo Mum." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hello Pippin." She answered sniffing and wiping at her tears with her free hand.

Pippin's smile faded, lines formed between his eyebrows. "Why are you crying Mum?" His voice was still soft but full of concern.

"Happy tears, Pippin, they're happy tears." She smiled broadly. "You're awake, you're talking." She sniffed again.

He still held her hand to his cheek. "I'm sorry. I've worried you. I'm sorry," he said. He closed his eyes while snuggling against his Mom's comforting hand.

"It's not your fault you've been sick Pippin."

"Sick?" The lines deepened between his eyes. Painful memories filled his mind. "No, not sick. Horrible. I'm horrible." His face twisted in pain.

Eglantine's breath caught in her throat. Whatever was Pippin talking about? Suddenly his eyes flew open in a wide confused stare.

"Merry, I heard him. I heard his voice!" Pippin's breaths were sharp and shallow. "I hurt him. I . . . I hurt him, Mum." He started coughing and gasping. He clung to his Mother's hand. "Why would he ever want . . . to see, me?" Pippin's head was aching and he was getting dizzy. He looked anxiously into his Mother's eyes. "Is he really here?"

The beseeching look in her son's eyes caused Lanti's heart to tighten. "He is here, Pippin. His parents just arrived and I sent him to meet them, but he is here at Great Smials. He rode all night and day to get here to be with you. Just to be with you." She put her other hand to his chest. "You have to calm down Pippin."

"He's here?" The words were the merest of whispers. His hand that held hers to his cheek fell limply away. Pippin had exhausted himself and fainted.