Chapter Fifteen - Who’s Minding the Minder?

More than two and a half hours later, Pippin carried an unconscious Diamond out to the waiting carriage. Out of the corner of his eye, Pippin could see a few onlookers gaping at the bandaged lass and then whisper to one another. He gently laid her on the back seat and then had Gelly sit on the edge in case the jostling got to be too much for her. “Make sure she lies on her side,” Pippin said. In his hands the near-teen held a pail should the lass waken and become ill.

“You and Hilly sit up here with me,” Pippin told Tilby with restrained anger. “You both will sit still and I don’t want to hear a sound out of either of you.”

Pippin looked one last time at the unmoving lass before flicking the reins. As the ponies’ shoes struck a rhythm against the soft earth, Pippin re-lived the last two horrific hours inside the house of Mr. Hallstead’s house.

The healer had to pry the lass’s hand from her wound. He next had his apprentice hold Diamond’s head while he flushed out any debris from the wound. The whip had left a deep cut going back about an inch from the corner of Diamond’s eye. The next step would be to stitch it up. Mr. Hallstead was aware that the tweenager would not be able to withstand the sting of the needle. The only way to keep her head and eye still while suturing would be to knock her out. The healer gave his apprentice a set of instructions and then set to making a concoction from various herbs.

“What are you making?” asked Pippin. He had seen his share of medicines made for wounded soldiers, so Pippin was truly interested to know what the healer planned to feed his self imposed ward. At least, that is what Pippin considered young Diamond at the moment.

“Horsetail…and passionflower,” Mr. Hallstead gladly answered Pippin‘s question. When his mixture was ready he set it aside. He next pulled several cloves of garlic from a basket then crushed them in a bowl. When the apprentice returned he held a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

Pippin watched as the healer poured half of the liquid into his first mixture. “What did you just add?” he asked again.

“Brandy,” said the healer.

“You’re going to kill her!” Pippin stepped forward as if to bar the healer’s way. “Does she look like an old gammer? Look at the lass--I would wager she has never tasted a drop of spirits in her life!”

The healer frowned at Pippin, “That is why I am only giving her half. Stand aside, young hobbit, and let me do what I have been doing nearly all my life.”

Diamond gasped, coughed, and nearly wretched when the healer fed the mixture to her. He waited for the properties of the herbs and brandy to have an effect on the lass before giving her a teaspoon of the minced garlic. At this time, Diamond didn’t have a care in the world; she happily ate it and then licked her lips--which were beginning to feel pretty numb by now. Mr. Hallstead gave her another small sip to wash down the garlic. Not long afterward she fell into a stupor…and then asleep. In spite of all Mr. Hallstead’s precautions, Diamond woke up while he stitched her, although easily restrained due to her intoxication.

Presently, the little group made their way back to Great Smials as the sun began her descent toward the treetops. Pippin took in a deep breath wondering what sort of greeting awaited them. While the healer sewed up Diamond’s wound, Pippin used Mr. Hallstead’s office to compose a note to his family, then sent Gelly running to the nearest courier. Hearing Diamond begin to stir in the back, Pippin brought the carriage to a halt. He turned round just in time to watch her vomit her luncheon all over the back seat and floorboard. So much for the little pail. Beside him, Tilby was on his best behaviour throughout the trip while wiping away tears. Pippin was still very angry, however, he pulled the child close to him. He snapped the reins, resuming the silent journey home.

* * *

Diamond felt herself rise to break the surface of consciousness…then felt utterly sick. Her head pounded with a fierce headache. The lass lay unmoving upon her bed while adjusting to her surroundings, hearing whispers not far away. Diamond felt weak…wanting to sleep…and so she did.

* * *

“The lass woke up briefly while I cleaned her wound and examined it,” said Donnabelle, addressing the family inside the Thain’s apartment. “I know because her breathing quickened for just a minute, and then she was asleep again.”

“Nothing else?” asked Pimpernel, very worried over her tweenaged minder.

“I wouldn’t expect much else until morning, Pimpernel,” said the Smials’ healer. “Mr. Hallstead’s herbal medicines are a bit unconventional, but they do work. His stitching is brilliant; a few years down the road there should be minimal scarring. After time heals it further, hardly noticeable.”

Incredulous, Pimpernel looked at the healer. “A few years? Donnabelle, she’s only thirty years old.”

“I am sorry,” Donnabelle said with sincerity. She stood up to take her leave, giving further instructions of how to care for Diamond’s wound should she not be around to do so.

The Thain rose from his seat to express his gratitude. “Thank you, Donnabelle.”

Once Donnabelle had left the Thain’s apartment, Pimpernel put her face in her hands and wept. “She’s just a tween,” she said sniffling. “Mrs. North-took will never forgive me.”

“It was an accident, love,” said Eglantine, comforting her own daughter. “No one can foresee these kinds of things.”

Pippin sat in a chair off to the side observing the exchange between his mother and sister. No one can foresee these kinds of things?, he silently thought. Maybe not hobbits, he thought to himself.

* * *

Diamond floated to the surface again…this time something tickled her ears, easing her fully into consciousness. Darkness remained before her then she remembered…her eye. Reflexively she reached her hand up toward the bandages…

“No, Diamond,” Pimpernel took the lass’s hand in hers, gently resting them upon her stomach and then sighed. “You mustn’t pull away your bandages.”

Ah! A voice she recognized. “Mrs. Brownfield?” asked a rather sluggish Diamond.

“Yes, it’s me,” said Pim. “You’re in your own bed at Great Smials. It’s half past nine o’clock in the morning.” Gazing at the lass, Pim spoke softly, “I wanted to be here when you woke up to tell you how sorry I am--about my children gravely misbehaving themselves yesterday.”

Diamond then remembered the scuffle between Gelly and Tilby. “How are the lads?” she asked, knowing how terrible they must be feeling.

Pimpernel sighed, “Tilby’s bum is a tad sore, however, he and Gelly are both confined to their rooms. Gelly is for only today, but Tilby is confined for the entire week.”

“I’m certain that it was an accident, Mrs. Brownfield,” offered Diamond.

“Yes, your injury was an accident,” said Pim, “but Tilby has been warned a few times already about playing with the pony whip. I realize that Gelly is trying his best to prove to me he is growing up, however, he should have known better than to wrestle his brother for it. As a result, he gets to spend the day thinking about how he might let an adult intervene the next time.”

Regardless of Pimpernel’s reasoning, Diamond felt bad for “her” lads. “We were all a bit out of sorts yesterday, Mrs. Brownfield, not only the children. Mr. Pippin and I had our own disagreement over a ridiculously trivial matter.” Diamond’s hand reached up to her throbbing head. “I’m thirsty.”

Pimpernel poured a glass of water for Diamond, then helped her to drink it. “Donnabelle said that drinking plenty of liquids should help you feel a bit better. That is, liquids not fermented or distilled,” Pim added in case Diamond misunderstood her.

Diamond wiped away the dribble she felt under her chin. “I thought you and Mistress Took were going to deliver bread hampers to Mrs. Smallburrow in Tookbank?”

“We’re leaving within the hour,” answered Pim, taking Diamond’s hand in hers, “as I said, I wanted to be here when you woke. I have asked Pippin to look after you and the lads until I return. I wouldn’t be going at all except that Mrs. Smallburrow greatly depends upon the help my mother gives her family.”

“Why is Mr. Pippin minding the children--or me?” asked Diamond. “I am fully capable of minding them.”

“Is that so?” Pimpernel had to smile at the lass’s spirit. “And just how are you supposed to manage that with a linen blindfold over your eyes?”

“I only have one injured eye, Mrs. Brownfield,” said Diamond. “If the healer who mended me yesterday had wrapped the bandages properly, then I should be completely fit to watch over the children today.”

“Well, you are not fit at the moment,” said Pimpernel giving the tween’s hand a squeeze, “no matter how improper you feel your bandages are bound.” Rising up to leave, she said, “You are charged to either stay abed or within your room until Donnabelle stops by this afternoon to examine and clean your wound again. Until then, behave yourself Miss Diamond.”

Diamond wisely waited to hear the door handle click shut before releasing her irritation. “Behave myself?” she said under her breath while laying hold of the bandage knot. Only one wee adjustment, she thought. “Am I Gelly’s age?” she continued her muttering, “No, I tell you--”

“I don’t recall giving you permission to take your bandage off, Miss Diamond.”

Diamond let out a yelp, not realizing anyone else was still in her room. “who--how?…Mr. Pippin!” She gaped at the darkness before her eyes, pulling up the blanket to her neck. “Indeed! What if I were getting dressed for the day--where would your honour be? Right in the chamber pot, I tell you.”

Pippin spoke gently but firmly at the tween, “I would not have allowed you to go so far--that is where my honour lies.”

Diamond sighed in frustration. “Mr. Pippin, I cannot see. Only one eye needs a small bandage--not both. I feel like trussed up fowl.”

“You won’t feel so irritable after you’ve had breakfast,” said Pippin. Entering the adjoining door into his sister’s apartment, Pippin entered, taking the small bell off her mantelpiece. He next opened Diamond’s outer door then rang it.

When the servant arrived, Pippin at once began giving instructions. “Miss Diamond and the children are taking breakfast inside the apartment today. Please have the following brought on a food cart: scrambled eggs, ham, hot buttered mushrooms, strawberries and cream, blackberry jam, newly baked bread, a pitcher of fresh water, apple juice...am I leaving out anything?” he muttered the last part. “Oh! Enough to feed three growing lads and one tweenaged lass.” Pausing half a second, he then added, “all right, and one very grown hobbit.” The young servant smiled, understanding Pippin was speaking of himself. They exchanged a few more words before Pippin thanked the servant, re-entering Diamond’s room.

Entering the room, Pippin stopped and stared in disbelief at the child minder. “Have you no idea of what ‘do not take your bandages off’ means?”

In a matter of minutes, Diamond had managed to untie the knot of her bandage then carefully re-wrap the linen strip in such a way that only one eye was covered. Most of the excess bandage lay in a heap in her lap. Diamond narrowed her good eye at Pippin, trying to focus. Her right eye wasn’t exactly her best one, but it would do. “I want to see, Mr. Pippin. Other than a brandy-induced headache, I feel perfectly fine.”

“I don’t know who is more obstinate--you or me!” Then seeing her lovely brown eye and the resilience Diamond possessed, Pippin relented. “Donnabelle is going to have my hide,” said Pippin, sitting down in Diamond’s rocking chair letting out a long breath. Why was he always so taken with a lass’s eyes?

“I can watch over them, you know,” said Diamond frowning. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Mr. Pippin--I just don’t want to be sent home. I want to do my job.”

“No one is going to send you home,” replied Pippin. “That is, unless your mother demands such. Pim has written a letter to your mother telling her what happened.”

Diamond spoke sadly as she fidgeted with the hem of the quilt, tracing the pretty design of the ruffles with her finger. “We both know what my mother is going to write in her reply.”

Pippin really didn’t know what to say to the sorrowful tween, yet his heart responded with a trace of regret; yes, more than likely Opal North-took would demand that her under-aged daughter be immediately returned to Long Cleeve. And Pippin would truly be disappointed to no longer meet up with his spry young friend every morning--or occasional night--in the Smials’ halls. Thus far, Diamond is the only person to give even a speck of attention to the matter most important to him: his life-changing Journey. Diamond seemed to know exactly what questions to ask and even repeated his answers, as if to commit them to memory. In his innermost thoughts Pippin groaned at the thought of her leaving the Smials. Since when had this sweet lass gotten under his skin? I thought I gave up on lasses a few weeks ago…

“Mr. Pippin?”

Pippin shook himself from his musings. “Yes, Diamond?”

“May I visit the lads after breakfast?”

Pippin cocked an eye at the linen strips in the tween’s lap. “Would it matter if I said no?” he asked half-jokingly.

“Probably not,” Diamond smirked in reply.

After the scrumptious first breakfast for Diamond and third breakfast for the lads (*all* of the lads!), they congregated in Gelly’s room and had a wonderful time playing draughts and dots.

The “reunion” at breakfast for Diamond and Tilby was a tearful one. Over and over Tilby apologized for hurting Miss Diamond, calling her his favourite minder. Diamond kissed the child’s brow, forgiving every apology he uttered. “It was an accident, love,” she said at length, holding his chin in hand. “If you never pick up a pony whip until you’re old enough to drive a wagon, then it was a lesson well learned, right?”

“I can’t agree with that,” Pippin put in, although he was glad for her compassion toward his nephews.

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was uneventful, with the exception of Donnabelle stopping by to clean and examine Diamond’s stitching. The healer determined that one covered vice both would be fine as long as it didn’t cause discomfort to the patient. She prescribed more minced garlic for the lass. Poor Diamond nearly gagged on the strong, aromatic herb.

“I am sorry I cannot allow it to be mixed with food; it tends to lose most of its healing virtues that way,” said Donnabelle. “Please put some of this mixture in your tea, Miss Diamond,” the healer handed a small bottle, continuing with her ministrations, “I want you to have a bit of a nap this afternoon--it will do your eye a vast amount of good.” With that, Donnabelle set the vial on Diamond’s night table then left.

For the rest of the afternoon Pippin caught up on his reading while the lads quietly worked on lessons he had given them earlier after breakfast and games. Diamond continued sewing her curtains. Every now and then she stole a glance at the mixture Donnabelle gave her. She didn’t trust the wee concoction, and she found that she didn’t want to sleep, either. Diamond felt that she had a long enough sleep from yesterday’s incident.

Pippin had difficulties concentrating…then realized he had read this particular passage not once, but several times; his focus broken by the tittering of a few lasses emanating from Diamond’s adjoining door. “What in the name of wonder…” he muttered, rising up from his chair in Pimpernel’s sitting room. Placing a marker between the pages Pippin set the book aside.

When Pippin opened the adjoining door, there were more lasses than he first imagined. Five of them! Pippin knew each of them by name: Viola sat upon the bed with Diamond, Poppy sat in Diamond’s rocking chair, Chica Fairchild--nurse to Everard and Laurel’s children, Daisy Longlocks--cleaning servant to the guest quarters, and last but not least, nineteen-year-old Blossom Mudbanks, the Smials’ newest orphan who began working with Viola the other night.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” Pippin greeted the group of lasses, immediately grabbing their attention. They all stopped snickering and stood to their feet out of respect to the Thain’s son. “Unfortunately, I fear, Miss Diamond omitted a bit of information from her visiting companions.” He watched Diamond’s face flush; the vial of medicine still sat where Donnabelle left it. “You see,” he told his audience, “the healer advised her to take a nap this afternoon to rest her injured eye.” The lasses kept quiet while Pippin spoke. “I apologize for the disruption in your fellowship--er, lass-ship--whatever you lasses call these wee gatherings--however, Miss Diamond will be deep in slumber in the very near future, will you not?” He smirked, gazing at the red-faced lass that was mere seconds ago the centre of attention in the group.

“I will leave you lasses for a few minutes to allow for farewells,” Pippin continued, “however, I beg that this room have only one occupant when I return. Thank you, ladies for your kind attention.” He bowed and then left.

Behind the door, Pippin leaned against the wall with his hand covering his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. He could hear Diamond’s friends giving her grief for abusing her own body in such fashion. He knew then that Diamond had chosen her friends wisely.

“You needn’t embarrass me like that,” Diamond said to Pippin when he knocked, re-entering her room. All of her friends had left, wishing her well in the coming days.

“And if I had not, would you be giving your eye the rest it needs?”

Diamond looked away. “I wasn’t tired,” she said.

“Donnabelle gave you this to help you fall asleep,” said Pippin lifting the bottle. He poured it into Diamond’s cold tea. “Drink this,” he said, handing her the teacup.

“It’s cold,” she turned her nose up at it.

“Then I’ll heat it,” he said through gritted teeth. Diamond did not have a hearth in her room, so he poured the tea into a small pot kept inside Pimpernel’s sideboard in her eating area. He placed it on the hook in the hearth where a small fire always burned. It would take a few minutes to warm up so he went back to Diamond’s room to ensure she stayed put.

“Is it true?” she asked as Pippin sat down in the rocking chair.

“Is what true?”

“That a lad won’t consider a lass if her face is marred. You know--if she bears a scar…like me.”

“Where did you hear something like that?” asked Pippin, though he readily knew.

“We lasses…you know--we…talk,” Diamond replied slowly.

“I know you lasses like to talk--I have three older sisters, remember?”

Diamond lowered her eye, gazing at the stitching she sewed into her quilt. “You can’t tell me that lads don’t talk. Besides,” she spoke more solemnly, “I want to know. Just because I don’t want to marry a lad for a long time doesn’t mean that I don’t like to dance with them or go to parties with them.”

The two friends sat in uneasy silence for a while; Pippin felt reluctant to answer such a serious question. Luckily, the time for her elixir-tea to warm had passed. Pippin got up to fetch it, pouring the tea into a clean cup from the sideboard--anticipating the tween whining over a dirty one.

Diamond paused in drinking her tea, “You don’t have to watch me, you know.”

“Yes, I do,” said Pippin unenthusiastically from his chair. “I will sit here in this chair until you have swallowed the last drop. Only after you are snoring the shutters off the windows outside will I leave you to your sweet slumber.”

“I don’t snore,” answered Diamond, taking her time sipping the tea. Pippin kept his eyes upon Diamond as if to make good on his words. Diamond thought to dispel his gaze, “Tell me more about Rivendell--and Ló rien. You said that elves live in those places. You once called them Firstborn; why are they called such?”

Pippin sat up eagerly in his chair; finally something he could answer well enough!

Many were the talks he and Gandalf had while encamped near the Gap of Rohan on the trip home from the Quest. It was Legolas who had piqued Pippin’s interest in the whole matter a few nights previous when he told a small tale about Númenor. Pippin thought much of the tale shed light on the custom of the Standing Silence in Minas Tirith.

One night, when he couldn’t sleep, Pippin cornered Gandalf, asking about the Númenoreans, the Firstborn…and when the other peoples came into being, such as Men, Dwarves, and Hobbits. Gandalf answered each of Pippin’s questions--not crying “mercy” even once. Even Aragorn got into the conversation when he overheard the subject. Pippin indeed learned much about the places and peoples of Middle-earth--and the One who made them all.

“I’ll try to explain it all as I understand it, Diamond, but there is a great deal more to Middle-earth than either of us think. I still marvel at much of what I’m about to tell you.”

The elixir-tea took its toll on the tween about halfway through recollecting the finer points of his experience. Sighing, Pippin got to his feet, taking the cup from her hand he placed it on her nightstand. He pulled the lovely quilt up to Diamond’s chin then turned down the lamp to a dimmer light. “Have a good sleep, Diamond.”

Pippin fought the impulse to kiss her brow as if she were one of his nephews. The realization that a deep kinship had formed between he and Diamond struck deep in Pippin’s heart. When had that happened?

He gazed at the sleeping lass for a long minute before leaving her to her dreams.

TBC

A/N: I wish to thank Pearl Took for her help with the pony crop/whip issue. Thank you, Mentor!