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Pearl's Pearls  by Pearl Took


For Challenge #37
Elements = Characters learning about a different culture.
Starter = __________ wasn’t sure he had heard correctly.
Beta by Llinos and Marigold


Healing Lessons


I wish there was more I could do for him, he looks so forlorn lying on his cot that is big enough for a full grown man. I sadly shake my head.

“There is naught that I can give you, Pippin. His Majesty said you are past the need for poppy and that no more of that is to be given to you. Willowbark tea can also be given only at regular intervals, and it has not been enough time since your last dose of that.”

“But I’m hurting, Parsow. My head aches.”

“Certainly it isn’t more than you can bear, is it? A mere headache after all your other hurts.” I chide him gently as his cousin might do.

It has been a week since the final, terrible battle on what will now be thought of as the most glorious day in the history of Middle-earth. Sauron (I still feel chilled at the mention or thought of him) was brought down, Middle-earth was spared; but the toll was high. The Armies of the West had marched forth knowing full well their numbers were a mere folly. The Army of Mordor surged out of the Black Gate to quickly surround and overwhelm those who stood against them. Had Frodo of the Shire, Peregrin’s cousin, not succeeded in his mission . . .

But he had. Later, Gimli the Dwarf had found Gondor’s smallest soldier lying beneath a troll along with those whose lives he had saved by dispatching the beast. Peregrin had been brought to the healer’s tent battered and bruised but alive. His knee that was dislocated will not yet hold his weight; his chest is still tightly wrapped to support his ribs as they mend. He is still confined to bed.

“It isn’t my only ache, but it’s the one that hurts the most just now. I ache everywhere, but my headache is making me dizzy. I want to sleep, truly I do, Parsow, but it isn’t letting me.”

“How long has it been hurting you so badly?”

“Most of the day, I’m afraid. I kept hoping it would go away.” Pippin’s frown deepened. “My headaches sometimes do, you know. But this one hasn’t.”

“I will see if His Majesty is available then. I’ll be back as quickly as I can, Pippin. Try to rest.”

I left to find the King.

Meriadoc, or Merry I should say, arrived two days ago. He still is not completely healed from his battle with the Witch King and is under orders to rest each day in the afternoon. He doubtless would have ignored the order so that he may spend every moment with either Pippin or the Ringbearers, but King Éomer has told him that if he disobeys he will be sent back to the White City. Merry is being the perfect model of obedience. However, being at his rest adds to my need for haste as I do not like to leave Peregrin alone for too long.

I stride up to the King’s tent only to be stopped, not by royal guards, but by a deep, growling voice.

“He’s not to be disturbed, young healer.”

In my haste, I hadn’t noticed Gimli sitting by the tent.

“But it’s Pippin, sir.”

Gimli looks towards the tent flap, then back at me. “Is it serious, lad? I wouldn’t ask but he’s more than tired and, well, I suppose he would say to disturb him but I’d really rather not. The man has been unbearably grumpy and I think some sleep will cure him of it.”

I swallow hard. This might overstep my level of expertise. On the other hand, His Majesty has been seeking my opinions as well as my observations in regard to Pippin’s condition ever since he assigned me to care for him. And, although I wasn’t meant to, I’m sure, I heard the King telling one of the master healers that he feels I am nearly ready to become a fully fledged healer.

“I’m certain it is not too serious,” I reply. “His head is aching to a degree that is causing him to not be able to sleep. He is restless and says that he aches everywhere. Pippin is no longer to be given poppy and it is too soon to administer more willowbark tea. I came seeking advice from King Elessar on how best to treat him.”

What the Dwarf does next surprises me. He holds up his hand to silence me as he looks furtively about. Then, he motions to me to come closer.

“You go back to the lad,” he whispers. “I’ll be along in a wee bit. I need to get something from my tent. Off with you now.”

I return to Pippin’s tent, wondering what is going to happen.

When Gimli arrives, he is acting just as suspiciously as before. He glances both ways before ducking through the tent flap and looks carefully around the inside as though I might be hiding an orc in here. Finally, he relaxes with a sigh that makes his moustache puff out.

“Good, there’s no one here but us,” he says as he walks over to the small table beside Pippin’s cot.

“Hullo, Gimli,” Pippin says, smiling a little as he is wont to do when the Dwarf pays him a visit. He is well aware who pulled the troll off of him on the field of battle.

“Hello, young hobbit. I hear you have a nasty headache.”

Pippin starts to nod, wincing as he does so and finishes by answering, “Yes.”

“Well, I’ve brought something that should take care of that. I brought over my healing stones.” He places a velvet bag upon the table.

From the expression on Pippin’s face, which I’m sure mirrors my own, it is clear that neither of us are sure we have heard Gimli correctly.

“You’ve brought what, sir?” I ask.

“Healing stones. Healing stones, young apprentice.” He shakes his head. “Why does everyone think Dwarves don’t know anything practical? How do you think we care for ourselves, eh lad? Do you think we have no need of healers and healing?” He looks at me sternly. I have no reasonable response; that is indeed what I thought. “Humph! I thought so. Well we do have the need from time to time and these are what our healers use.”

He gently pours a goodly number of smooth stones of various colours out of the bag onto the table. They are all disc-shaped; flattened, about half an inch thick and about two inches in diameter.

“I’ve not brought these out before now as there were always too many other folk in here. This is something we Dwarves keep mostly to ourselves.”

“You keep too much to yourselves, Gimli,” Pippin says weakly. “I think Dwarves are very wise and clever.”

“Thank you, lad,” the normally gruff Dwarf softly replies as he gently pats the hobbit’s shoulder. He is often tender towards Pippin. “It’s good of you to say so.” He then shakes off his tender mood with a huff. “Now close your eyes and let me get to this before someone comes traipsing in here. Young Parsow, take this.”

Gimli holds one of the stones out for me to take. It is somewhat transparent and translucent, and of a greyish brown hue.

“ ‘Tis called smoky quartz, and it relieves pain. Practically all pain, though it is particularly advised for headaches. It also helps you to relax. Hold it with your thumb and little finger along the edge, and place it, gently mind you, on young Peregrin’s forehead. That’s it, that’s it. Just like that. Now lightly rub it over his forehead, and especially on his temples. Slower, young healer. That’s right. Slow and gentle with just a wee bit of firmness.”

I do as I am told and shown. I’ll admit, it seems a great folly to me. How can cold stones that have never had life in them bring healing? Yet, as the stone warms from my hand and from the smooth, gentle rubbing upon Pippin’s forehead, I can feel something happening. A calmness begins to come over me, whilst my wrist, which often is stiff and aches, feels warm and comfortable.

Pippin had had lines of pain upon his face, but now they are relaxing and gradually smoothing away. His whole body begins to relax. He sighs and smiles.

“You do have a healer’s touch, Parsow,” Gimli says approvingly. “The quartz is responding to your touch nearly as well as it would for one of our healers.”

The Dwarf goes to the other side of the cot, and raises Pippin’s head to place something around his neck. It is a silver chain with a smoothly polished amethyst disc hanging from it. The stone is as large in diameter as the smoky quartz I hold, but it is much thinner. Gimli tucks it beneath Pippin’s nightshirt. He lays his hand over it and begins a low chanting; "Heddwch oen bakh, mynd yr poen llakh."*


“Give me your free hand, lad,” he says to me after several minutes.

I give him my hand and he places it where his had been. The amethyst is very warm to the touch and I am certain I can feel it vibrating. Gimli moves back to the small table to return the other stones to their bag.

“Leave your hand there ten more minutes, Parsow, while you keep using the smoky quartz on his wee head. When the time has gone by, you can put the quartz in your pocket. It is yours to keep, my lad. The amethyst . . . well, I should have tried to put that on the lad right away. I let him down there. It will help his body to heal itself. Leave it on him, Parsow. Make up some tale if anyone notices and asks about it. Just don’t let anyone take it off of him.”

With that, he rubs Pippin's shoulders tenderly for a few moments, then leaves the tent.

“As I said, Dwarves are wise and clever, Parsow.” Pippin mumbles softly just before he falls asleep.

*******************************

*A/N: Gimli's chant translates to "peace little lamb, go you slashing pain." It is actually Welsh and was contributed by Llinos.





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