5. Partly Muddled, with Signs of Clearing Towards Morning

Samwise and Frodo settled themselves for an uneasy watch.

'Is there no hope at all, Mr Frodo?' Sam whispered.

'Dammit, Jim, I'm a hobbit, not a doctor!' Frodo snapped. Sam's mouth twisted. Startled by his own words, Frodo got a hold of himself and put an apologetic hand on the gardener's arm. 'Slim to none, the Lone Ranger seems to be saying, Tonto,' he answered. Tears filled his eyes and he hugged Merry tenderly. 'I do not want to say this last long goodbye, Sam, nor see him go gentle into this good night.'

Sam looked puzzled. 'That doesn't sound right, somehow, Mr Frodo.'

Frodo shrugged. 'I know what it is I want to say, but the words won't come right.'

'I know,' Sam sighed. 'It's the story of my life.' He saw Frodo stiffen in the growing gloom, and asked, 'What's up, dude?'

'His breathing is slowing down,' Frodo answered. 'I can hardly see the respirations anymore.' Sam could see the glisten of tears on his cheeks. 'How are we going to break it to the pipsqueak?'

'I heard that,' Pippin said. He was standing in the shadows nearby. 'Don't give me no jive, bro, I want it straight and I want it hot off the presses.'

'Cold, more like,' Sam said. 'His hands have gone cold, his feet, too. I'm sorry, Mister Pipster, but he's going downhill fast.'

'He's hardly breathing,' Frodo affirmed.

'You guys shouldn't joke around like this,' Pippin said desperately.

'I'm not jiving you, cuz,' Frodo said softly. 'You know that when the cards are on the table and the chips are down, I don't bluff.' He looked compassionately at his young cousin. 'Get some rest, Pippin. We'll call you when it's time to say the last goodbye.'

'No!' Pippin said angrily, bending abruptly to hug his unconscious cousin. 'No, I'm gonna stick to him like... like... white on rice.'

Aragorn came up to them. 'Legolas is tracking a deer; we ought to have fresh meat soon.'

Pippin gave a little sob. 'What is it, Pippin?' Frodo asked gently.

'It's just... like... I mean... like..."

"Like... totally," Frodo said, commiserating.

'I don't think I could eat anything,' Pippin said. He looked up at the Ranger. 'O Strider, I can't believe you're not going to pull our chestnuts out of the fire...'

'Chestnuts?' the Ranger said, confused. 'There are no chestnut trees nearby...'

'...or pull a rabbit out of a hat...' Pippin continued.

'No rabbits, but we will have some venison soon, I hope,' the Ranger said reassuringly.

'Merry could use a good hat trick about now,' Sam said. Strider stared at him. Evidently the hobbits could understand one another, after a fashion, but for the life of him he could not comprehend half the words they said.

'A little "deus ex machina" would come in handy,' Frodo agreed. 'But I don't see any cavalry coming over the hill, d'you, Sam?' Aragorn shook his head, giving over the attempt to understand, and squeezing Pippin's shoulder, he got up to meet the Elf, to help butcher the deer Legolas was bringing into the clearing over his shoulder.

Boromir crouched, used his knife to help strip off the deer hide and skillfully freed a haunch to roast on the fire that Gimli had renewed. 'How is Meriadoc?' he said softly.

'Sinking fast,' the Ranger answered. 'I wish there were something...'

The man of Gondor shook his head. 'At this point, even were he in the Houses of Healing in the White City, there would be little to be done.'

'We'll bury him in the morning, rest through the day, and continue when night falls again,' Aragorn said. Boromir nodded, and took the haunch to the fire.

Legolas started to climb back into the tree, only to stop with a glad cry. The others turned, to see a tall grey figure standing at the edge of the glade.

'Some watch you set,' the wizard scowled. 'I might have slit half a dozen throats before you noticed me.'

'We were watching,' Strider answered quietly. 'But our best efforts would not reveal you to our sight, should you choose to walk unseen.' He nodded to the cluster of hobbits. 'You come in good time to take your leave of Meriadoc.'

'What?' Gandalf said, startled out of his usual calm.

'Anachronos,' the Ranger said simply. 'We went through a patch of mint earlier today...' he didn't have to explain further.

'How many are affected?'

'Just the Halflings,' the Ranger replied, then sighed. 'All the Halflings, that is.'

'All?' the wizard demanded. 'The Ring-bearer as well?'

'All,' the Ranger confirmed. 'Only one fatally, however.' He sighed, adding bitterly, with a snort, 'Only.'

'He's dead already?' Gandalf muttered.

'All but dead,' Aragorn answered, but was startled at the wizard's reaction. Gandalf, galvanized by the Ranger's answer, leapt over to the huddle of hobbits in great strides.

Pippin looked up from where he cradled Merry, sniffling, tears running down his face. 'Holy smoke, Grampa!' he said raggedly, 'where the heck have you been, dagnabbit?' The others froze, waiting for Gandalf to explode, or turn him into a toad at the very least, but the wizard only chuckled, reaching out a gentle hand to cup the small tearful face.

'How is Merry?' he asked softly.

'On his last legs,' Sam answered, 'if you catch my drift.'

The wizard bent to the still form, fumbling in a pocket of his robes. 'I have something from Rivendell,' he said, 'to be used only at extreme need. It will strengthen a failing heart.' He looked up at the others, who had followed him, all except Gimli who stayed on watch. 'I need hot water, at once.'

By the dim light of the torch set in the ground nearby, they saw him take out a small carven box. He slid open the lid to reveal a dark powder, with a tiny tube fashioned from a slender reed nestled on top.

Boromir silently brought a cup of steaming water. The wizard poured out all but a tiny amount, added a pinch of powder to the remnant, stirred the mixture with the tube. He bent again to the ground. 'Hold his head back,' he said. 'I'm going to have to blow this up his nose: it is the only way to get the medicine into him at this point.'

'Blow it up his nose?' Pippin said in outrage. 'You guys gonna stand by and let him do that?'

'Don't have a cow, man,' Samwise said reassuringly. 'The wiz knows what he's doing, I bet.'

'Just do it,' Frodo said. 'He's hardly breathing as it is.'

'As long as his heart beats, there's a chance,' Gandalf said.

Boromir took up one of the tiny wrists. 'It is the merest flutter,' he said soberly.

'Hold him steady, now,' Gandalf said. He put the tube to his lips and sucked up some of the medicine from the bottom of the cup.

'Cross your fingers,' Frodo said to all and nobody.

'I'm holding my breath,' Samwise answered. Pippin had nothing to say.

While Aragorn bent back Merry's head, the wizard inserted the other end of the slender tube into the hobbit's nostril and blew. The others watched for some reaction, surely Merry would fight and buck under such treatment, but he remained deathly still. They could not even see the rise and fall of his chest under the blankets. The wizard repeated the process, blowing medicine into the other nostril, then rose and stepped back. 'Only time will tell,' he said.

Aragorn eased Merry's head back down, smoothing the disordered curls before moving back, keeping one hand on a tiny wrist. Sam and Frodo moved in from either side to support the dying hobbit.

Pippin threw himself on his cousin, head to Merry's chest, listening to the slowing heartbeat. 'Don't leave me, Merry!' he cried miserably. He heard the heart miss a beat and his own heart dropped to his toes. 'Merry!' he whispered. The heart missed another beat, and Boromir looked up at the others and shook his head. Aragorn released the limp wrist and sat back. It was over, then.

'He's dead, Jim,' Frodo said softly.

Then Pippin gave a cry, and Aragorn closed his eyes in grief. But no, the youngest hobbit was sobbing, not in grief, but relief... 'O Merry, this is awesome, it's fantastic, how could you do this to me? I'm... like... totally wasted.'

'No way,' Frodo said, unbelieving hope growing in his heart.

'Way!' Pippin maintained, a grin on his face.

'His heart is gaining strength,' Boromir confirmed, and Aragorn took up the wrist again, shifted his grip slightly, to feel for himself the increasing pulse.

'Far out,' Frodo breathed.

'Rad. Like, totally,' Sam said.

'Way cool,' Frodo agreed.

'What under the overheaven are they talking about?' Legolas said, thoroughly lost.

Boromir smiled. 'I think that Merry has turned a corner.'

'Did you have some of that muddlewort too?' the Elf asked, brows narrowing.

'No, it's just something I heard a guardsman say once. I've seen muddlewort at work before, you know,' the Man of Gondor said. 'Seemed to fit in this case.'