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It Takes a Took  by Dreamflower

CHAPTER 3

Pippin’s eldest sister Pearl sat by his bed, doing a bit of mending while she watched. Both the healers had gone to get a bit of rest, but they were in a room nearby if needed. Mistress Lavender had shooed her parents off to bed before she would seek her own rest.

She had been casting frequent glances at her brother; he still had the flush of fever, although he had been given willow-bark tea, as well as a rather strong sleeping draught. She was a bit worried. Shouldn’t it have broken by now? She finished his shirt--she had been mending the seam beneath the sleeve--and folded it up to put aside. She smiled at him; he was almost as hard on his clothes now as he had been at seven. Right now, his face relaxed in sleep, he still *looked* about seven. But he definitely wasn’t--in fact he was a hero yet again.

Pimmie and Vinca had been nearly hysterical when they found out what had happened, that their husbands had nearly been killed, and that their brother had endangered himself to save them. Mistress Lavender had given Vinca a sleeping draught nearly as strong as the one she had given Pippin, but she could not give one to Pimmie, who was nursing her newborn twins. Pimpernel had finally cried herself to sleep out of sheer exhaustion. Pearl had stayed with her until then, and afterward come to stay with her brother. She could rest tomorrow. She’d never be able to sleep tonight.

On the other side of the room, Diamond sat on a blanket chest, trying to study the herbal that Mistress Lavender had recently given her. But her mistress’s words kept coming back to her. Did Mistress Lavender really think that the Thain’s son found her attractive? She was a pretty observant healer, and sharp about people, so if that’s what she thought--but that was ridiculous. Why would he have any interest in a lass who would have no time for him? There were any number of lasses in the Shire who would be more than glad to dance attendance on him, she was sure. Although in her brief contact with him, she had to admit, she’d seen no signs of it.

At the thought of him, she glanced over once more at her patient.

He seemed to be twitching a bit restlessly, and he looked more flushed than before. “Mistress Pearl?”

“Yes, Diamond?”

“Would you check his brow? He looks a bit more fevered to me.”

“I was thinking that his fever should have broken by now,” she said reaching her hand over. “He’s burning up!”

“I’ll go fetch my mistress!” Diamond moved quickly to the door. Lavender was just across the hall in one of the spare rooms.

Pippin coughed, and moaned a bit in his sleep.

____________________________________

Frodo, Merry and Sam rode up to the stables at the Great Smials, surprised to find a hobbit waiting there with a lantern.

“ ‘Evening, Mr. Merry, Mr. Frodo, Mr. Sam.” He got up off the hay bale he had been sitting on. “They are expecting you up at the Smials. I’ll see to your ponies.”

The three walked up to the main entrance, and Frodo pulled the bell. He had barely touched it when the door opened.

“Hello, Mistress Appleblossom! I am surprised to see you up so late!” he said, as the housekeeper let them in.

“Well, Mr. Frodo, the Master and Mistress were that tired after all the excitement, the healer made them go to bed. But they knew you three would be coming, and your rooms are all prepared.” She glanced at the other two. “Welcome, Mr. Merry, Mr. Samwise.” As she led them down the passageways, Sam looked at her quizzically.

“Mr. Frodo?” he whispered, “what is this with the ‘Mr. Sam’?”

Frodo looked at his friend, amused. “I would imagine that is how Eglantine has told them to address you. I suppose you will have to get used to it.”

They came to the passageway leading to the family sleeping quarters, and headed for Pippin’s room.

“Merry!” said Pearl, quite startled. “I didn’t know that you had arrived.”

Merry did not waste time in greeting her. “What’s wrong?” he said. “Is there a problem?”

“He’s running a fever,” Pearl turned. “Hullo, Frodo and Samwise.” She started to speak to them, but just then Diamond returned with Lavender in tow.

Lavender went over and checked her patient, who coughed again, this time a bit harder.

“What’s gone wrong?” Merry asked her. “I thought he had only broken his leg!”

“He did. But he also was out in the rain and cold for a good long time. I was afraid he might become ill from his exposure. I was hoping I was wrong, but apparently not.” She turned to Pearl. “We need to start using cold cloths to bring down his temperature.”

But Merry had already gone to the washstand and poured water into the basin. He picked it up, along with one of the towels and carried it over to the chair by Pippin’s bed without another word to anyone else, said “I’m here now Pip,” and began to wet the towel.

Lavender looked a bit taken aback at the way his cousin had taken over the sick room. No one else seemed to find it the least bit odd. Frodo had gone over to the other side of the bed and taken Pippin’s hand, and Sam sat down next to him. It was as though they had done this many times before--then she realized, remembering things that Poppy had told her--they probably had.

Pearl looked at the scene and shook her head. If Pippin had his Merry, he didn’t need his sister, too. But that was how it had always been, and she could not imagine it any other way. She murmured “good night,” and went her own way to bed.

Lavender looked over at her apprentice. “Diamond?”

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I need you to prepare some more willow bark, but make it half as strong. It’s a bit early for another dose. Add mint, sage, thyme and honey.”

Diamond nodded, and went across the hall to fetch her mistress’s medical satchel. She quickly returned and went to the hearth to begin preparing it.

Pippin had begun to toss about, and cry out. “Gandalf! I’m sorry, Gandalf! I didn’t mean it!”

Frodo, Sam and Merry all looked at one another. “Moria?” asked Frodo.

“Probably,” said Merry, making soothing noises as he re-wet the towel and placed it on his cousin’s brow. “Or the palantír. But I think Moria.” Pippin’s dreams of the stone were far more frightening to hear. He would shout out, and sit up with staring eyes, though he still slept.

Lavender went over to them. “Do you know then, what troubles his dreams?”

“All too well,” answered Frodo. “Do you know of the athelas?”

“Poppy told me a bit about it before she left. You had given her some to use for Opal. But I have none.”

“That’s all right. Pippin has his own supply, and so do I,” said Merry. He turned to Pippin’s nightstand and looked in the drawer. “Yes, here it is.” He took out one of the little sealed parchment packets. Each one held a single dried leaf, harvested by the King himself, to give it extra virtue.

“Don’t mix it with other herbs,” said Sam. “It works best on its own.”

“It will soothe his dreams, and help him rest,” Merry added. “He only needs to breathe it, though it also works as a tea.”

Diamond brought over the tea she had prepared and Merry took it and began to gently spoon it into his cousin’s mouth, a few drops at a time. She watched in amazement. She’d never thought lads were of much use in a sickroom, but obviously she was wrong. Peregrin’s cousin had the manner of an experienced healer. The sight of the obvious love between them touched her deeply.

Lavender took the precious athelas leaf, and pouring some hot water in one of the bowls from her satchel, she crumbled it in. The smell was wonderful, and it seemed that a fresh breeze had come through the sickroom. It was heartening and invigorating. It lifted the spirit. She brought it over so that her patient could breathe the steam.

The two healers watched as the troubled, fevered face relaxed, and they saw the other three hobbits visibly relax as well. For Merry, Frodo and Sam the smell brought with it the memory of a beloved face: the grey eyes with a twinkle beneath the seriousness, the high wise brow, the wry smile that he often had for his hobbits, the gentle hands that brought healing, their King and their Strider.

Gradually, the herbs did their work, and the flush began to leave Pippin’s face. A light sweat broke out, as the fever broke. Merry gently lifted his cousin’s head, and without a word, Frodo turned the pillow over. Lavender nodded approvingly.

She wished she knew a bit more of Peregrin’s cousins. Although she had served her apprenticeship in Hobbiton, under old Mistress Salvia, she had never had occasion to treat either of the Bagginses, who had seemed almost unnaturally healthy. She did recall once being called in to patch up Merry as a little lad, when he had been hurt by a bully. He’d been a sweet lad, and uncomplaining. She was glad to see he had grown into the promise he showed then. And of course all four of the hobbits were now the famous Travellers, who had gone away, and then come back to put an end to the Troubles. She studied Frodo carefully with her healer’s eye. Poppy had told her he appeared to suffer from melancholy, and it was clear that her colleague was correct. But there seemed to be something more there…

When it was clear that the fever had been vanquished for now, and that the cough did not seem to be getting any worse, Lavender shooed Diamond off to her bed. She turned to Pippin’s three friends. “I suggest that at least two of you go and get some sleep.”

They nodded tiredly, and Frodo and Sam got up to go to their rooms. Merry stayed where he was. Lavender shook her head. “Mr. Meriadoc, I think that if you are careful, you could probably lay down beside him, and get a bit of rest yourself.”

So Merry got onto the bed, fully dressed, and turned on his side toward his cousin, much as he had done throughout their journey. He soon drifted off. Lavender took the chair he had vacated. If there were further complications, she would be right there.

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