16. What Shall I Make of Thee?

Reginard chafed at the slow recovery, but Pippin and Ferdi kept reminding him how different things might have been. He remained on broth for another three days, per Healer Verbena's orders, despite bitter protests that he might well die of starvation before dying of his wounds.

When Verbena was satisfied, looking at the progress of healing his external wounds, she allowed soft foods, though she watched closely for any adverse reactions.

Regi continued to sleep much of the time, and when Pippin was not with him, Ferdi was, to make sure he did not try to get up too soon. Verbena kept him in bed a full two weeks, though he tried to convince Pippin that he could travel by waggon to the Great Smials, or barring that, could remain in Greenholm under the care of the good hobbits there whilst the Thain returned to the Smials. Pippin, however, stubbornly refused to leave, instead having messengers travel back and forth between Great Smials and Greenholm. It made minding his business a bit more awkward, perhaps, but he made it work.

No more ruffians attacked Greenholm. There were reports of other attempts by ruffians to enter the Shire elsewhere, but the vigilant guardsmen, the Shirriffs, and their quickly deputised helpers turned back the intruders at a great loss to the ruffians, and no serious loss to the defenders.

Elanor and Rosie-lass slept each night under the influence of a sleeping draught, because of the terrors that stalked their dreams. They spent their days underground, deep in the smials under the Far Downs, while guards patrolled outside.

Leotred voiced his concern to Healer Verbena after about a week. 'The lasses still are not sleeping properly, and they grow pale from lack of acquaintance with the sun.'

'What do you expect me to do?' Verbena said. 'They were taken from the front garden of the smials... they fear to venture out, and I won't force them.' She eyed him sternly, shaking a finger at him. 'And you're not a healer yet, for all you are my most promising apprentice.'

'I'd like to take them on a picnic, up on the moorland,' Leotred pressed. 'The weather continues warm and sunny, for November, and the border is well-enough guarded now... and of course we would go in broad daylight.'

'Those other hobbits were taken in broad daylight,' Verbena said darkly.

'So... we'll take guardsmen with us,' Leotred said in frustration, only to shake his head. 'No, we cannot do that. How about Fastred and myself, Mayor Sam, Frodo, and Chancellor Ferdibrand, all armed with bows and alert for trouble? Would that satisfy you?'

'A veritable army,' the healer said dryly, then sighed. 'You're right, they need sunshine.' Abruptly she nodded. 'I will take it up with the Mayor and his wife.'

'Thank you,' Leotred said.

***

Gimli alternated between marching with his Dwarves and riding behind Legolas and his Elves from Ithilien, "like old times", he said, torn between satisfaction and irritation.

The great army stretched behind them, a long snake upon the Harad road. Messengers had been sent ahead, to the petty kings whose lands they would cross as well as to the king with whom they had business, and though villagers and groups of blank-faced soldiers lined the road as they passed, they went unmolested through the land.

'Are they going to attack us or join us?' Gimli rumbled to his companion as they passed one such gathering.

'They'll watch, and count our strength, and decide that they would rather not go to war with Gondor... this year at least,' Legolas answered.

'Just so long as they do not begin collecting hobbits as pets,' the dwarf returned.

***

'But they're dressing me like a lass!' Berilas said in dismay, blushing as he looked down at the bright silken tunic.

'Look at the guards,' Meadowsweet whispered. 'They're wearing the same thing you are.'

Both peeped shyly at the fierce-looking warriors guarding them, curved scimitars hanging from their belts.

'That's what's missing!' Berilas shouted, stooping to the piles of bright silk, digging until he came up with a miniscule sash, which he wound about himself and tied firmly, nodding in satisfaction.

Bessime tittered behind her hand. 'Look at the clever little monkey,' she whispered to Jessamin. 'He looks the perfect picture of a guard, now.'

'All he needs is a sa'shan,' Jessamin whispered back, and stooping to the silks, herself, she found the little headcovering that had been made in hopes a male creature would be captured. 'Come here, little monkey,' she smiled, crooking a finger at Berilas.

He'd learned what the phrase meant, and that this Big Person usually had a treat for him when he came, and so Berilas, with a glance to his mother for permission, stepped forward confidently. Jessamin knelt and quickly had the headdress in place, adjusting it to her satisfaction.

One of the guards had to hide a smile, seeing the little creature turned into a guard. 'All he lacks is a weapon and a dark hide,' he quipped. 'Weapon, we can do nothing about, but perhaps if we put him out in the sun his hide can be darkened.'

'It is a thought; their skin looks much like ours, and might darken in the sun at that,' Jessamin mused, leaning back to survey the effect. 'O, you are so darling!' she said, and could not resist pulling the little one into her lap for a hug.

'They are entrancing creatures,' the other guard said. 'I can see why the Prince wished to add them to his collection.'

The lasses had put on their bright silks with murmurs of delight, the bright colours attractive to their hobbit sensibilities. The silks were cool and smooth to the skin.

'Not very sensible, for Shire weather,' Celandine said, 'but I can see how it would suit in this climate.' The marble walls and floor were cool, but the air was definitely warm, and she imagined that out under the open sun it would be like an oven. Slaves with fans kept the air moving, trickling water made a cooling sound, and green plants waved everywhere.

The Big Folk were talking again, and she concentrated on the unintelligible sounds. A few words were coming clear, now: "monkey" was what they often called the hobbits; "come here" was a summons; "stop", a warning. Now she heard the word that they used to refer to herself...

'Little mother!' Jessamin said, smiling at Celandine. She held out a tiny gown, borrowed from a young friend's collection of doll clothes. 'Here is something for the babe to wear.' Jessamin admired the unconscious grace as the hobbit mum stepped cautiously towards her, fingered the gown, and carefully took it from her grasp. 'Good little monkey!' she praised, and Celandine smiled absently as she dressed little Blossom, recognising the phrase the Big People used when pleased with the hobbits.

'Let me take a look at you!' Jessamin said, and surveyed the little group. 'Perfect!' she said.

A gong sounded somewhere, and one of the guards said, 'And not a moment too soon. It is time to take the creatures to court, for the King's approval.'

 ***

Author's note on original posting:

Note to Readers:

I am going on vacation for a week, and while I have written well ahead in both "Merlin" and "Flames", I might not be able to post daily again until after next weekend (say, the 7th of July). However, if I am able to sneak online at all, I will keep posting chapters... Hey, you all keep reviewing, okay? Wouldn't want you to get out of the habit... Those lovely reviews, they keep the Muse happy, along with her pina coladas, and she keeps throwing ideas at me, so it works out for everyone.

I have added a new chapter to "Flames" as well, in case you are following that story.