CHAPTER 8

Pippin’s cousins and Sam had kept him company for supper; Frodo sat next to him, and they were having a little conversation about Aragorn and Faramir. Pippin had received a letter from the Prince of Ithilien a couple of weeks ago, and was filling Frodo in on some of the news from their friends down south. But both of them were keeping half an ear on the conversation Merry was having with Sam on the other side of the room.

“You do know where he keeps the athelas?”

“You already asked me that, Mr. Merry.”

“And don’t forget the healer is leaving him an extra dose of the willow bark tea.”

“No, Mr. Merry.” Sam’s tone was somewhere halfway between amusement and exasperation.

“And Sam, it might be a good idea to build the fire up before you go to sleep--”

“Mr. Merry--” The amusement was fading and the exasperation was beginning to win out. Frodo decided it was time to intervene.

“Merry, I do believe that Paladin wants to have a conversation with the two of us this evening. Let’s permit Sam and Pip get some rest, shall we?” He got up and steered Merry out of the room by his elbow, and when Merry hesitated, he pinched it. Merry subsided. Frodo had not done *that* to him in years, but when he did, he was serious.

He turned at the door. “Good night Pippin and Sam. Say ‘Good night’, Merry.”

“Good night,” Merry responded, a tad sullenly. The door shut behind them. Sam blew out a deep breath, and Pippin spluttered in laughter.

“Mr. Pippin, if you don’t mind my saying so, Mr. Merry seems to be even more careful of you now than he was when you were a wee lad.”

Pippin sobered up. “He is. I don’t think even my mother worries about me as much as he does. But Sam, he was so frightened when I was hurt at the Last Battle, and you and Frodo were so bad off as well. He had a horrible fear that he would be the only one of us left alive. It left him very protective of me--I mean more than usual. He was beginning to get over it a bit, after we moved into Crickhollow, but I guess my accident has made it worse again. I hate that I have scared him like this.”

“I think I understand, Mr. Pippin, but it must be hard on you.”

“A little; but it’s even harder on him. I do wish that he would learn that he cannot control every single thing that happens to the people he loves. When things happen that he hasn’t planned for it throws him off balance.”

“It’s mortal hard, Mr. Pippin,” Sam shook his head. “But he’s a level-headed sort. He’ll figure it out, once his fright is over.”

“Well, I hope he does.”

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On the other side of the door, Merry rubbed his elbow. “Ouch, Frodo! What was that in aid of?” he asked resentfully.

“You know very well. Sam is perfectly capable of watching Pip tonight, and you are to get some rest yourself. And the same goes for tomorrow night. Once we leave, if you want to be the mother hen, then do so as much as Pippin will allow. But give Sam and I *some* credit for a little sense, Merry!”

Merry flushed. “I’m not a mother hen!”

Frodo shook his head. “Are you trying to convince me, or yourself? You know, Pippin’s been pretty tolerant of this for a good long while, but sooner or later he’s going to get tired of it.” He turned to look his cousin in the eye. “It’s going to hurt when he does Merry, unless you learn to ease up a bit before it happens. He’s not of age yet, dear, but he is far too grown up to be babied.”

Merry shuddered. “He could have been killed, Frodo.” His grey eyes were full of pain.

Frodo gave him a hug. “I know that Merry, I do. But he wasn’t. And getting yourself all wound up about it is futile. Try to relax and be glad that he was not hurt any worse.”

“I’ll try. I will.” Merry drew himself up with resolution.

“That’s my Merry. Now, Paladin really does want to see us. Seems he got in some new brandy from the Southfarthing, and he wants our opinion on it.”

Merry chuckled. “Well, let us not disappoint Uncle Paladin, by all means!”

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Sam had built up the fire, and he had prepared the willow-bark tea. Pippin made an awful face, but drank it down without a fight. His leg was throbbing painfully, but his cold was very nearly gone. Sam aided him to relieve himself, and then settled him once more beneath the blankets.

Then he stretched himself out alongside Pippin, flat on his back, with his hands cupped behind his head. “Just let me know if you need anything, Mr. Pippin.”

“Sam, are you ever going to stop calling me ‘mister’?”

“Probably not. ‘Twouldn’t be proper,” Sam said with a smile, repeating their age-old conversation. They’d had it so often it was almost a joke.

Pippin chuckled, and fell silent for a moment. Sam had thought the lad was dropping off to sleep, when he spoke up again. “How did you know you were in love with Rosie?”

Sam thought for a moment. “I don’t rightly know, Mr. Pippin. It just seemed as though I always loved her. But I was not so sure we’d ever get married. I knew I had aught to do for Mr. Frodo, and something always held me back. It weren’t till I was sure that it would never happen that I knew it was what I wanted.” He fell silent in his turn. “When we were in the Black Land, and I was so sure I would never see her again, that was when I knew she was what I wanted in life.”

“You are such a lucky hobbit, Sam.” Pippin sounded wistful.

“I know that right well, Mr. Pippin. I’m sorry I teased you about Miss Diamond today.” For Sam knew quite well what this conversation was in aid of. Pippin had never asked him anything about lasses before this.

Pippin sighed. “Oh, that’s all right; you were right, after all. She takes no more notice of me than if I were little Drogo.”

“Now, I wouldn’t go giving up on her, Mr. Pippin. She’s a healer, and they don’t usually wed, but it’s not unknown. Her Mistress is wed, anyway.”

Pippin brightened up a bit at this. “Why, you’re right, Sam! So she must know it’s possible!” He turned his smile on Sam. “Thank you, Sam.”

Sam chuckled. Once Mr. Pippin decided to turn his smile and his big green eyes loose on Miss Diamond, she’d not stand a chance. “You’re welcome, Mr. Pippin. Let’s get some sleep now, if you don’t mind!”

There was no answer. Pippin had drifted off with the smile on his face.

Sam looked at him fondly. “Sweet dreams, Mr. Pippin,” he murmured, and went off himself to dream of his Rosie.

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The next day found a steady stream of visitors passing through Pippin’s room. While he found himself pleased for the distraction while awake--for his cold was quite gone, and he was beginning to feel the boredom of convalescence--it made it difficult when the pain from his leg made him wish for the oblivion of sleep.

He didn’t much mind that Frodo, Merry and Sam were basically spending the day with him. He didn’t need to talk to them or even pay any attention to them if he didn’t want to. It was nice just to have them there. It was all the other folk, who seemed to feel the need to re-hash his accident or talk to him about other times he had been sick or hurt as a lad. Or worse yet, talk about the times *they* had been sick a-bed, or tell him of this or that friend or relation who had *also* suffered a broken leg, and all of the complications involved. It was all very dreary, really, and he couldn’t simply tell them to be quiet and go away, not when they had the concern to come see him in the first place.

He was more than a little pleased after luncheon when the two healers came in and shooed everyone except Merry out of the room. Merry took himself to the other side of the room and leaned against the wall to watch their examination.

They drew back the covers, and Lavender stood back.

“Let me see you work, Diamond.”

So Diamond took off her pendulum and began to dangle it over him, beginning at his feet. “His left foot was broken at one time…”

Lavender nodded, and Diamond continued. “The break in the leg is properly set, and healing…healing more quickly than I would have thought…his knee is inflamed again…”

Pippin was watching her. He usually closed his eyes and relaxed when the healers were doing this kind of assessment, but it was different when Diamond was doing it.

Merry was wincing each time she mentioned one of his cousin’s injuries.

“His cold is gone; it never even settled.” She looked at her mistress in surprise. A cold usually settled for a while in the head or chest before it departed. She went on to catalog some of his other previous injuries. Then she stopped.

“Go on.”

She looked at the patient for a moment, and Pippin’s eyes met hers. She hesitated. “Uh, he…” she still found it a bit difficult to master the healers’ trick of discussing someone as though they were not there. But she felt Lavender’s eye on her. “He--he seems slightly agitated, and unrestful?”

“Indeed.”

“That’s all, Mistress.” It wasn’t quite all, but Diamond was not certain what interpretation to put on some of the other things she noticed. Lavender nodded, satisfied. She too, was aware that there was a bit more, but Diamond had not been doing this long. Her apprentice was doing very well, in fact.

“Very good, Diamond. Now stand aside.”

Mistress Lavender took out the little jar of salve. To Pippin’s disappointment, she did not ask Diamond to apply it, but rubbed the medicine on herself. It helped relieve the pain very quickly, but it certainly did not feel the same.

He turned his head and met Diamond’s gaze squarely, with a glint in his green eyes, and turned his smile on her. She smiled back very briefly, and flashed her dimples. Best of all, she blushed and looked away.

Pippin caught Merry’s eye for an instant, and flashed him a triumphant grin, which Merry returned.

“I think that you are overtired, Mr. Peregrin,” said Lavender. “I am going to give you some chamomile as well as willow-bark this afternoon. Mr. Meriadoc, I am leaving orders for you to turn other visitors away until after teatime. I would like him to get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Merry. That suited him fine. He had seen how the last few visitors had been a bit of a strain on Pippin.

“Mr. Peregrin, you try to get a bit of sleep this afternoon.” She prepared the medicine, and he drank it down obediently. Then the two healers left the room.

As soon as the door had closed, Pippin threw up his hands. “Yes!” he cried. “Did you see Merry? She smiled back at me!”

Merry laughed. “She did, indeed. It looks like there’s hope for you yet!”

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Diamond left the room with a slight feeling of disorientation. She had begun to think that Mistress Lavender had been mistaken about Pippin’s interest in her, but there was no doubt of it now, after that look he had given her. She ought to be dismayed at this complication--he was a patient, for goodness’ sake! So why, then did she feel so giddy and gratified? Get hold of yourself, she thought, you have no time for this sort of nonsense! Even if he did have a smile like sunshine.

Frodo and Sam had been waiting in the passage.

“Mr. Baggins and Mr. Gamgee, I have given him a mild sleeping draught, and orders for only one visitor this afternoon. But I would like to speak with the two of you. I need to know a bit more about his old injuries.” Actually, Poppy had told her of most of them, but she wanted an account from these two who had been there. Some things did not add up.

Frodo and Sam looked at one another. Another accounting of things they were trying to put behind them. But this was Pippin’s healer, they couldn’t tell her ‘no’.

“We will do our best, Mistress Lavender,” said Frodo, “although you must realize that we were apart from Pippin during that time.”

Actually, she had not realized that. But she didn’t think it would have kept them from knowing the details. Out loud she said “Anything you may tell me would be valuable.”

They nodded reluctantly, and she led them into the spare room she and Diamond had been sharing since the accident. “Please be seated.” She sat down herself. “Diamond, if you would take notes please?”

So Diamond sat down at the small writing table and took up a quill and some blank paper.

“Well,” said Frodo, “the first of their injuries occurred the very day we parted. Sam and I had a task to undertake, alone, to the East. So all of this was told us later, you understand. Merry and Pippin were waylaid by a band of Orcs--”

*****

“So, you say that you were asleep for two weeks after this battle when he was injured so sorely, yet when you awakened, he had healed enough to wait on the table at the feast?” This seemed very strange to her, that the son of the Thain and the heir to Buckland would wait on the table like common servants, and that this was supposed to be an honor. “He was walking on a broken foot and a dislocated knee after only two weeks?” Not to mention wearing that heavy armor over broken ribs after the same short period of time.

“Yes.” Frodo spoke shortly. He was beginning to feel cross at this interrogation.

“I see. And you say that the King put all this rapid recovery down to the strange drinks they had taken from the talking trees?” If she didn’t have the evidence of seriousness in front of her, as well as some of the strange anomalies she had herself observed, she would have thought them guilty of trying to make a fool of her.

This time it was Sam who spoke up. He could tell Frodo had nearly had enough. “Yes ma’am. That’s exactly what Strider--King Aragorn, told us. But we weren’t awake ourselves; if you want to know more, you have to ask Mr. Merry, or better yet, Mr. Pippin himself!” He sounded angry, and Lavender relented. She had enough to chew on for now.

Frodo and Sam left. Sam had Frodo by the arm; Frodo was trembling.

Diamond watched them go thoughtfully, and then looked at her notes. As incredible and outlandish as the tale seemed, she believed it. But the two had said no word of their own task that had taken them away from the rest of their friends. She shuddered to think that it might be even more awful than the other horrors she had heard today.

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Frodo was on the verge of tears. Sam didn’t feel any too well himself.

“Come, Mr. Frodo, me dear, I think we will use up a couple of the King’s leaves on a cup of tea. And then I think you need to take a nap as well.”