Challenges

Aragorn sat in the chair Parsow had been dozing in when he had been in the tent to check on Pippin’s condition. Merry had tried to leap from the pallet but Parsow, having the advantage of not being under a blanket, was first up and out of the tent. He returned a moment later with the King in tow.

Merry was now up and pacing.

“I’ve felt as though I’ve been holding my breath all day,” the hobbit ranted. “And I’ve felt as though everyone else has been doing the same. I am glad we are all alive, don’t mistake me on that count, but I know there are things that have gone unsaid.” Merry stopped, crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his friend. “What is it that I’ve not been told, Strider?”

Strider gestured toward the stool that Merry had sat on earlier in the day when he had first come to Pippin’s side.

“Sit, Merry.”

“I don’t . . .”

“Please.”

They were the dearest of friends, but this man was also now king of a mighty realm. His quietly spoken plea hung in the air between them for a moment, then Merry, somewhat contritely, sat upon the stool.

“I had not expected to be called away as I was while walking here with you, Legolas and Gimli, but such is the way of things when one is a healer and a king. Either role ofttimes places me at other people’s bidding. My expectation was that I would talk to you here after you had time to satisfy yourself that Pippin was alive and being well cared for.”

Now Merry was contrite. He nodded his understanding as he looked down at Pippin, sleeping on the bed. “I’m sorry, Strider. My thoughts have been with three of those in your care, yours have been with all of the injured. They had said the man was still suffering from the Black Breath.” Merry looked up. “How is he faring?”

For a moment Strider said nothing, then quietly he said, “He died. So much depends on the person himself . . . He gave up the fight.”

Merry’s right arm went cold. He shivered. He was all too familiar with how tempting it could be to surrender to that Darkness.

“Had he a family?” Merry asked as he absently rubbed his arm.

Strider shook his head. “I am certain that is why he succumbed.”

The hobbit nodded as the subject of family brought him back to his own kith and kin. “Thoughts of Pippin and Frodo, Sam and my parents back home help me greatly. But that said, Strider, what is wrong with my cousins and Sam? I’m certain there is more here than I’m aware of.”

“Yes. Yes there is, Merry.” Strider closed his eyes a moment. “Where was it I had planned on beginning? Ah, yes.”

He opened his eyes to look directly into Merry’s.

“Frodo and Sam first. Sam will be fine. Foul memories will haunt him, I’m sure, but that will be true for all four of you though I wish it were not so.”

Merry nodded.

“Frodo was most difficult to call back from the darkness. There are still burdens he carries and only time will reveal if they will be too great for him to bear. He has spoken some in his sleep, as has Sam, and I saw many things when I was calling to him. Gollum was there, Merry, in the heart of the mountain.”

“I had heard that he was with them, though it chilled my heart.”

“There is more. He attacked Sam, knocking him unconcious, but worse, Frodo had put on the Ring.”

“I wondered . . .” Merry paused, his voice was a whisper as he continued, “I somehow felt he had when I saw his hand.”

Strider nodded sadly. “Gollum could either see Frodo or was so strongly drawn by the Ring that he was able to find and grapple with Frodo. The strength the madness the Ring gave them both must have been beyond what sane thought would make it. What I saw and felt was a fight the likes of which two strong, healthy men would be more believable as the combatants. In the end, Gollum claimed his Precious the only way he could; he removed it from Frodo by removing the finger that bore it. He bit off Frodo’s finger.”

Merry’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard at the foul taste in his mouth and the lump in his throat.

“But, what otherwise may not have happened thus happened. Gollum and the Ring fell from the precipice into the fire of Mount Doom.”

Parsow had quietly come around to Merry’s side of Pippin’s bed. He had not heard this part of Frodo’s story before. It was difficult for him to hear, he knew it had to be much worse for Frodo’s cousin. He sat down on the floor beside him and laid his hand atop Merry’s chilled right hand. Their eyes met and Merry placed his other hand on Parsow’s and gripped it tightly.

A slight smile graced Aragorn’s lips. This young apprentice truly had a healer’s heart. He was grateful that Parsow had taken such a keen interest in the hobbits.

“Frodo would have let go of his life because of this,” Strider continued. “It was the hardest thing I faced in bringing him back to us. He feels that he failed in his quest, and I know that he will continue to feel thus even after he awakens. He will bear that burden but also he will struggle with physical wounds. You know of the wound he received on Weathertop.”

“How could I forget?” Merry snarled. Once again the chill spread in Merry’s arm. And yet, it filled him with a grim satisfaction; he had helped bring down the vile creature that had stabbed Frodo.

“That wound will trouble him still, and there is another. Gollum led Sam and Frodo to a most evil place and there Frodo was stung by a spider. Like unto the spiders of Bilbo’s tale, but larger.”

Merry grew pale, but said nothing. Strider continued.

“She, most likely, is mother to those that infest Mirkwood. I fear that he will continue to suffer from the poison of Shelob’s sting. Frodo’s trials have not ended with the destruction of the Ring. He faces regaining his strength of spirit and body as well as regaining full use of his maimed hand. Everything will be awkward for him at first. He will be surprised at how much that finger was used or assisted his other fingers in performing various activities.”

The king looked at Merry. “You and Sam will have to help him, and we all know that will not be easy.” He smiled. “Your older cousin can be most stubborn.”

Merry returned the smile, though with teary eyes. “Yes, stubborn enough to make it to the Cracks of Doom. But he doesn’t fare well against Sam. Sam always has been able to get Frodo to do what he ought to do.”

For a few moments they sat in silence. It was enough to know they would all do whatever was needed to help Frodo. Finally, Merry spoke.

“Parsow said that Pippin will have need of that blessing you have been saying over him. Why?”

Strider arched his eyebrow at Parsow and Merry. “I was certain you were both asleep, and that you, Parsow, had been so the other nights I have come to Pippin’s bedside. I’m not sure I’ll ever trust either of you again.”

The hobbit and the healer both blushed.

“But Parsow is correct, Merry. And though he should not have spoken out, at least he did so at a time when I was readily available to explain his comment.”

Parsow’s head hung at what was obviously a mild reprimand. He had over stepped himself in making so bold a statement. He had sensed Merry’s frustration as they had settled into their vigil that evening. Parsow had suggested that Merry lie down with Pippin partly for Pippin’s sake, but also in hopes it might ease Merry and help him to get some needed rest. He mentioned Pippin’s need only because he was certain that he could catch up with the King and bring him back.

Aragorn, noticing the young man’s response, knew his comment had been taken as he intended. He was sure that later he would receive a formal apology, in keeping with Parsow’s character. But for now, such matters were not foremost in the King’s mind.

He stood and went to the foot of the bed, pulling back the blankets to reveal Pippin’s legs.

“Much of the hurt to Peregrin doesn’t show as he lies covered up here in his bed.” Strider heard Merry’s sharp breath as he saw his cousin’s exposed leg. The left leg was noticeably swollen beneath it’s wrappings. “The bindings will come off tomorrow. His joint needed to rest for a while.”

“Gimli said his leg was twisted.” Merry’s voice was tight with anxiousness.

“His knee was dislocated. The lower leg was at an angle it is not intended to assume. As you can see, all has been set as it should be.” Strider rested his hand on the top of Pippin’s foot for a moment before replacing the covers. “There is blood flow to the lower leg, otherwise I would have needed to amputate it. Yet, it isn’t quite as I would like it to be and I am keeping a careful watch on it.”

Merry nodded. He suddenly remembered he had seen Gandalf and Parsow reach under the blankets at the foot of the bed for a moment then withdraw their hand.

“Pippin’s knee will be weak for a while. He will need to walk with assistance or with a crutch or walking stick until his muscles are strong again. He should be able to be up on it in a few weeks, possibly sooner. Hobbits do seem to heal quickly. You and Pippin even more so.”

“I think it has to do with the water of the Entwash and Treebeard’s draughts.” Merry smiled a bit at the memory of the kind leader of the Ents. “We didn’t notice it at first, but later we realized that all our hurts from the Orcs were already healed, and that for all we were dragged much of the way across Rohan, we weren’t stiff or sore.”

Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. “That would explain a great deal, yes.” He moved back to the far side of the bed and sat down as he gestured at Pippin’s bandaged right hand laying atop the blankets. “Pippin told you how his hand was injured and he mentioned his shoulder hurting?”

“Yes.”

“The hand is badly bruised and would soon be fine, if that were the only injury to be considered. I am fairly certain he has damaged more than his hand, it is his neck and shoulder that worry me.”

Strider looked up, making sure he had Merry’s full attention.

“As I examined him, when he first awoke, Pippin mentioned his neck and shoulder hurting. I asked him to move his arm and he seemed unable to.” Merry’s eyes clenched tightly. Strider hurried on with his explanation. “It might not be too bad, Merry. There are nerves that run through the shoulder and down into the arm. What will ultimately determine Peregrin’s condition is how badly they have been damaged, for they have obviously been damaged.

When I realized the condition of his arm along with his complaining of pain in his neck and shoulder, I asked Gimli to tell me again of his finding the lad. Particularly, I questioned him on the position of Pippin’s body once the troll was rolled off of him. Gimli said his left arm was up so that the forearm was covering Peregrin’s eyes, and that his face was turned rather severely to the left beneath his arm.”

Without warning, Aragorn struck out at Parsow’s face. The apprentice immediately brought his right arm up to guard himself, while at the same time turning his face to the right.

The King’s anticipated blow never fell. He purposefully stopped short.

“Just like that, Merry.”

Parsow look stunned for a moment, then all three laughed.

“Only Pippin,” the King continued, “had his right hand firmly holding his sword which was deeply imbedded in the troll. So it was his left arm that came up to guard his face and he turned his face into it. All a matter of instinct. However,” Strider’s voice grew more serious. “the troll continued it’s fall, landing on Pippin. It’s weight pressed against the upheld arm which in turn pushed against Pippin’s face, forcing it further to the left. And the pressure would have continued to build until the troll’s body finished settling, then it would have remained at that point. The muscles and nerves on the right side of Peregrin’s neck would be stretched much further than if he merely turned his head himself.”

Strider pushed up the sleeve that covered Pippin’s left arm. There was dark bruising across the outer forearm. He then motioned toward a line of lighter bruising along Pippin’s right temple.

“The bruising to his face would have been much worse if he had not been wearing a helmet. As it is, I’m somewhat surprised it didn’t break his arm. What I’m not sure of yet is whether the nerves have been stretched only or if some may have been torn. If all are stretched, though it will take time and exercises, his arm and hand should return to normal, or nearly so. And I do feel that most of the nerves are only stretched. If, however, any were torn, then whatever part of his arm they connected to will never work again. I will know more when the bruising in his hand lessens and I can better examine the feeling and function in it.”

Merry sat still, quietly thinking over everything Strider had said.

“Is there anything else?” He was hoping there wasn’t. There was already a great deal to handle.

Strider looked deep into Merry’s eyes. There was more. A fear that niggled at his thoughts. Did Merry really need to know when there was a fair chance that nothing would come of it? And yet, who better to watch for any symptoms?

He decided against it. He would speak with Parsow and trust more to his trained eye.

“No. Nothing else. Is all this not enough for you, Meriadoc Brandybuck? Dear Samwise will be driven to distraction. You have exercises for your own arm and hand, Frodo will be needing help with his hand and Pippin with his arm, his hand and his leg. All that and I am counting on all of you to keep each other from feeling overwhelmed by it all.”

“Yes, yes!” Merry held up his hand to stave off the barrage as he laughed. “It is quite enough, Strider.”

“And, my dear friend,” Strider said as he stood, “more than enough for this one night. Do you wish to stay with Pippin? We do have a tent prepared for you.”

Merry smiled down at his young cousin, then carefully drew back the blankets and eased himself down along side of Pippin. “Thank you for that, Strider, and I’m sure I will want to seek a bed of my own eventually, but for this night, I will stay with Pip. As long as Parsow keeps vigil.” He looked inquiringly at the young Gondorian.

Parsow smiled and bowed. “It will be an honor. And though I may appear to doze, Merry, I assure you I shall be attentive.”

“I’m not altogether sure he ever sleeps, Merry,” Aragorn chided as he bent to kiss each hobbit on the forehead. Pippin muttered a bit, uttered a soft ‘ow’ as he tried to turn over, then settled back into his slumber. “Sleep well now and awake when you will. You have no duty to attend other than the welfare of your friends.”