Another Day

Merry was gone from Pippin’s room when the sun lifted her head above the horizon. Frodo had dozed off, but asked after his younger cousin when he awoke.

“Well, Lo . . . eh, Frodo,” Bergil stammered. Like Sam, who had been asked by his friends to quit calling them Mister Merry and Mister Pippin, Bergil and been asked by all the hobbits to address them as he did Pippin, who he had first got to know as a friend not a superior. “Merry left awhile ago whilst it was still dark. He acted rather frightened at first, realizing where he was and all, but he did tuck the blankets around Pippin and patted his shoulder before he left.”

“That’s good to hear,” Sam said brightly as he came into the room. “My turn to sit with Pippin, Frodo.”

“Yes it is, and good morning Sam. Legolas and I agreed we would give Pippin a tub bath this morning, and then I’ll head off for a little nap.”

“I was just goin’ to say you ought to be gettin’ some sleep in your bed, instead of that chair. I’ll just see to gettin’ him changed before you take him off, and I’ll get his beddin’ changed while he’s in his bath. Good morning, Legolas,” Sam added as the graceful Elf entered the room. He was followed by a few strong men bearing a tub and several buckets of hot and cool water. They were Guards of the Citadel who were off duty. As soon as it had become known that the smallest of their number had been laid low, there had been no end to the number of Guardsmen volunteering to help in whatever way they could. They were helping in the kitchen, fetching supplies, and standing guard beside the front door to the house as well as beside the garden gate.

“Good morning, Samwise, Frodo,” Legolas replied. “Are you ready for Pippin’s bath?”

“Let me tend to my own needs first then I’ll help get the water ready while Sam gets Pippin changed.”

Legolas nodded as Frodo left, then he sat down beside Pippin’s bed. Laying his hand softly upon the hobbit’s forehead, he closed his eyes. Yes. Yes, it was as the Lord Elrond had said, the little one’s essence was near. He could feel the waxing and waning of the spells and, in between them, precious moments when the youngest hobbit’s bright spirit would flare up only to fade again as the next spell came upon him.

Frodo soon returned and, with help from one of the Guardsmen, got the bath water ready, then Legolas gently lifted Pippin from the bed and eased his body into the warm water.

The soap lathered well in the wet flannel and smelled of lavender and lemon. Frodo’s thoughts wandered as he worked. Thoughts of other bath times with his youngest cousin rose in his mind. Pippin splashing and singing, the water in the tub flying about as happily as the notes of the tunes.

Without realizing it, Frodo had started to hum.

Legolas was supporting Pippin’s limp, sometimes twitching, body. He could still sense the passing spells as well as the brief flashes of Pippin’s nearly returning consciousness. There was a change in the flow of the spells as Frodo continued to hum. The Elf was instantly alert.

Then, Frodo’s humming slowly began to fade.

“No!” Legolas spoke softly but urgently. “Do not stop humming, Frodo. It is reaching Pippin’s spirit. It is drawing him nearer. Are there words to this song?”

Frodo was taken by surprise. Not only had he been unaware he was humming, but now that it had been brought to his attention, he was aware of which song it was.

“Eh . . . yes,” he dragged the word out as he hesitated. “There are words, but . . .”

“Sing them. I think that may reach into his being even more strongly.”

Frodo didn’t really feel it was quite the right song to sing, much too cheery for the situation, yet the more he thought about it, the more he thought, “Why not?”

“Sing hey,” Frodo started, rather shakily. He cleared his throat and started again.

“Sing hey! for the bath at close of day
That washes the weary mud away!
A loon is he that will not sing:
O! Water Hot is a noble thing!” *

Sam had joined in on the last two lines. He and Frodo smiled at each other and they went on to the next verse as Frodo scrubbed Pippin and Sam went back to tending to the bedding.

“O! Sweet is the sound of falling rain,
and the brook that leaps from hill to plain;
but better than rain or rippling streams
is Water Hot that smokes and steams.” *

The hobbits were smiling now.

“O! Water cold we may pour at need
down a thirsty throat and be glad indeed;
but better is Beer, if drink we lack,
and Water Hot poured down the back.” *

Legolas had not recognized the tune when Frodo had been humming it, but he had indeed heard this song before and he joined in the singing. Sam shook his head in wonder at the silken voice of the Elf singing a hobbit bath-song.

The three of them heartily sang the last verse.

“O! Water is fair that leaps on high
in a fountain white beneath the sky;
but never did fountain sound so sweet
as splashing Hot Water with my feet!” *

At that moment, beneath the water of the bath, Legolas had felt Pippin’s legs give one solid twitch. He waited . . . but they did not twitch again.

Frodo had looked into Pippin’s eyes, and for a moment they had cleared. Though not looking into his own, Frodo saw them look aware, with a touch of Pippin’s old sparkle in them. But then . . . it was gone.

“The bed’s ready whenever he is,” Sam said quietly. But there was a smile in his voice just as there were smiles on the faces of Legolas and Frodo. The Elf and the eldest hobbit looked at each other, for the first time feeling more confident that Pippin would come back to them.

Frodo left to take his nap. Faramir came to make sure Pippin was getting the best care possible. He was concerned since the hobbit was not being cared for at the Houses of Healing, but he quickly saw that Pippin would be no better watched over at the Houses than in his own bed. Pippin had many friends in the White City and all were anxious to help. A little later, Ioreth came so Bergil could get some rest.

The day went on.

About the time the hobbits would call elevenses, Aragorn and Elrond came to Pippin’s room. The king carried a bowl, the Elf lord a small phial.

“Ioreth, would you please sit Pippin up so that I may see if he is able to swallow some rice porridge?” Aragorn asked.

“Of course, my lord,” the healer’s aid replied as she moved to do as he had asked. She gently drew the small body into a sitting position. She started to reach for the extra pillows, but the king had already set the bowl he had been carrying down and was moving more pillows into place behind Pippin’s back. “Thank you, my lord,” Ioreth said softly as, with the care of a mother with an infant, she leaned the perian back. She was careful to not let Pippin’s head flop, holding it gently with her caring hands until it was settled properly against the pillows. She then tucked a towel behind his shoulders so that it hung down over his chest.

But the king did not pick up the bowl of porridge. The Elf lord sat in the chair beside the bed first.

“We shall see to this first, Aragorn,” Elrond said softly, pulling the stopper from the phial as he spoke. “I do not fault you and young Parsow for not thinking to try this. You have not dealt with the falling sickness. Battle injuries and the afflictions caused by the Darkness were more your concern, and rightly so. I have had Mithrandir looking in the books of the healers as well as speaking with the Warden of these houses while we were discussing the hobbit’s treatment and working in the herbarium. As I thought might be the situation, this herb was not mentioned in their writings on the subject of the falling sickness.”

Sam had drawn closer to better hear what Lord Elrond was saying.

“I hope that’s somthin’ that we can make for Pippin when we get home.” Sam’s voice was tense. “If it ends up doin’ him good that is.”

Elrond turned and smiled at the anxious hobbit. “Indeed, Master Samwise, this herb is more readily found in the more northern regions than it is here. My sons had to travel a hard ride to the north to find it. That is part of the reason it was not written of in the healer’s books.”

He held up the clear glass phial. The liquid within was clear with a slightly golden hue.

“A tincture of milot malina, or what you would call yellow melilot, master gardener.” **

“Yellow clover! Another weed!” Sam exclaimed. His eyes widened as he looked more carefully at the jewel-like liquid. “I see as we hobbits need to be thinkin’ over what we toss on the compost heap.”

Everyone in the room shared a light laugh at Sam’s comment.

“Indeed it does appear so, Samwise. But unlike athelas, this herb will be effective in any healer’s hands.” To Sam’s wide-eyed amazement, the Elf lord winked at him. “It does, however also carry the name milot aranion, or King’s Clover, not because it needs the touch of the king to work it’s best but because it is the supreme medicament for the falling sickness.”

“You and Meriadoc will be taught the proper method for creating the tincture as well as how to properly purify water for the usual dose should this become young Peregrin’s regular medicine.”

Elrond took a small glass tube from his robes and drew up a small amount of the golden liquid. Everyone watched as, with infinite care, gentleness and patience, the Elf managed to place three drops of the tincture on Pippin’s tongue.

“Three drops directly upon his tongue when he is recovering from a fit, or, in his present situation, in which he is having continuous spells, three drops three times a day. If it does become his regular medicine, he will take it mixed in purified water three times each day, Samwise. I would suggest that it be taken with first breakfast, luncheon and supper to make it more convenient. The Master Apothecary can give you the correct amount of water using the charts you have produced.”

Elrond rose from the chair so Aragorn could try feeding Pippin. Strider didn’t do very well with the porridge. Though he did his best, his patient ended up wearing as much of it on the towel that covered him as it seemed he had swallowed. But, at least they had got some nourishment into the young hobbit. Strider sighed as he began to clean the mess of saliva and porridge off of Pippin’s face. Memories of the youngster happily stuffing his face at the feasts and banquets after the War had been won came to his mind, as well as Pippin eating more than even the other hobbits while the Company had been in Lorien and in Rivendell.

He sighed again. He prayed to Eru that Elrond was right and the King’s Clover would begin to bring Pippin back to them and that it might be the medicine that would work the best for him afterwards as well.

And the day went on.

Merry had returned to the house for meals, though he moved the food about on his plate more than he ate it. He only spoke if spoken to, and as soon as he seemed to feel he was finished, he left. Although everyone was concerned, they didn’t intrude on his struggle. Frodo assured them Merry was thinking things through, finding his own way to deal with what had happened to his best friend.

Actually, Merry wasn’t that far away. There were bushes below the window to Pippin’s bedroom; bushes and only the smallest amount of space between then and the low wall that encircled the house. There, in that small spot, he had spent the day keeping watch, in a manner of speaking, over Pippin.

He had heard a great deal. Legolas asking Frodo not to stop humming and then all of them singing the Bath Song. Legolas had said the music was reaching Pippin, that it was “drawing him nearer”. Merry heard what Lord Elrond had said about the new medicine.

Merry was daring to hope, even though he was not daring to go back into Pippin’s room. He could not bring himself to do it, so he kept his vigil below the open window.

It was later in the day, between afternoon tea and dinner, that Gandalf came into Pippin’s room. The house had become quiet in the late afternoon as most everyone by then had been feeling the need for a nap. Frodo was in one of the chairs by Pippin’s bed, although he wasn’t awake. He had come to relieve Sam so that Sam could have the relaxation he found in cooking dinner. Ioreth was still there as Bergil took the hours of the day from after supper until first breakfast.

“Might I have a few moments alone?” Gandalf quietly asked her.

“Of course, Mithrandir. I know you’ll take good care of my dear little Ernil.”

She curtsied and left, leaving the old wizard to smile at the woman for calling Pippin “her” Ernil. Ioreth thought of all the hobbits as “her” pheriannath.

Gandalf sat in the chair on the opposite side of the bed from Frodo. All well and good, he thought, as Pippin had recently been turned and faced that side anyway.

The young hobbit lay on his side in the bed. From time to time his body twitched as small convulsions played with his muscles, than he lay unmoving again. For a long moment Gandalf just sat there, then he reached out his hand to the youngster and softly stroked his curly hair.

"Hello Peregrin, my lad." the wizard whispered, but Pippin showed no
reaction.

Sighing, Gandalf looked at Pippin’s face. The hobbit’s big green eyes missed the sparkle they always had. They were open, but unseeing. His pale face was expressionless, his mouth open. Saliva ran out of the lad’s mouth and dropped onto the towel placed carefully on the pillow.

After a while, Gandalf drew the blanket off of Pippin, lifting his limp body out of the bed and onto his lap. He sat with the lad in his arms, his right hand holding Pippin’s head steady. With his left hand he picked up a cloth, that was lying on the night table and carefully wiped the saliva off Pippin’s mouth and cheek.

Once more, Gandalf looked at Pippin’s face.

Pictures from the past flowed into his mind. Little Pippin laughingly stealing a biscuit off his plate. Little Pippin looking guiltily at his feet, the wizard’s wet hat clasped in both tiny hands. A slightly bigger, older, Pippin jumping, full of joy and life, into his arms and asking an endless stream of questions.

Questions.

Always so full of curiosity.

“What more do you want to know?” he had asked the lad.

“The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas,” laughed Pippin.***

A smile played around the wizard’s lips. He hugged the hobbit in his arms, who now could not utter a single understandable word. Saliva was again running over Pippin’s chin.

Gandalf’s smile vanished. An expression of deep worry and sadness
took its place. “How I wish you would ask all your questions again, dear lad. I would love to answer them for you . . . if only you would ask them again and laugh at the answers.”

A tear rolled down the wizard’s cheek.

"Gandalf?"

He jumped, suddenly hearing a voice near him, but just as quickly realized it was Frodo’s voice.

"Hello, Frodo," he replied, as he leaned over and carefully put Pippin back into the bed, this time facing his cousin. Then slowly, as though every muscle ached with the effort, the wizard stood up.

Frodo stroked Pippin lovingly on the cheek. "Hullo, dearest Pip." He gave his cousin a kiss on the forehead.

Gandalf stood at the foot of the bed stared down at them.

"I am a powerful wizard . . . and yet I can not do anything for Peregrin.”

Frodo looked up into the familiar and dear face. He stood, then went to the end of the bed to take his old friend into a firm embrace.

"I feel helpless as well Gandalf. We all do," Frodo whispered as tears formed in his eyes. A long time they held each other for strength, and the hope that they would soon hear Pippin laugh and chatter again. There was no other sound they wished so much to hear.

Evening came. Pippin was given his third dose of the tincture of King’s Clover along with another meal of rice porridge for supper. Parsow had arranged with Bergil that he would sit the vigil this night. Sam busied himself adjusting Pippin’s blankets, tending to keeping the lad changed and cleaned, and tidying the already tidy room.

“I know,” Sam sighed, answering Parsow’s unasked question. “I ought to be settlin’ myself down. I can’t is all. Worryin’ does that to me sometimes, that’s why Mis . . . Frodo,” Sam shook his head and softly huffed. “He’s still my Master as far as I’m concerned and I’m still his gardener and I ought to be callin’ him and his kin “Mister”. As I was sayin’, that’s why he sent me off before to do some cookin’ for dinner.”

Parsow nodded. He often felt that sort of restless concern himself.

“Why don’t you go to the kitchen and bake something for breakfast on the morrow? I will be here with Pippin.”

“There’s no need, Parsow, as folks have been bringin’ stuff all day. There really wasn’t need for me to work on dinner when I did but since it had been Frodo that told me to go do some cooking, I did. He usually sits calm when he’s worryin’ and my fidgetin’ starts to grate on him after a while.”

“I know,” Parsow said. “This would be a good time for you to learn to make the tincture. I know, from what I have heard of the talk in the Houses, and that coming from the Citadel, that the Lord Elrond sleeps little and is oft seen walking about the halls and the gardens. The herbarium would be quiet this time of the night, there would be few if any interruptions.”

Sam considered the idea a moment. “But . . . one of us is supposed to be here with the lad, we promised each other there would a hobbit in here all the time, and we take promises seriously.”

“Frodo is just across the hall, Sam. I know that he usually sleeps lightly. Leave the door to this room open as you leave and open Frodo’s door as you go past. If a need arises, I am sure I would need only to call loudly and he will come. I’m sure he would understand.”

The hobbit thought a bit more. “Frodo had mentioned that he hoped my fussin’ about wouldn’t be upsettin’ to Pippin . . . Very well, then. I’ll go on up to the Citadel and look for Lord Elrond. I’ll be back as soon as I can, Parsow.”

Sam went over to the healer and touched his hand. “I know you’ll be keepin’ a good eye on him. You . . . well . . . you remind me a whole lot of Strider and Mis . . . Lor . . . Prince Faramir. I know Pippin trusted you to take care of Merry and Faramir, when he wasn’t yet a prince, and the Lady Eowyn.” He looked down a few seconds before looking up into Parsow’s eyes. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be back.”

With that, Sam left, leaving the door open behind him. Parsow heard him open Frodo’s door and then the night was quiet except for his ailing friend’s occasional grunts and moans.

It was quarter of an hour later when Parsow noticed the connecting door into Merry’s room was slowly moving. Eventually, the Knight of Rohan’s head eased through the opening.

“Is he . . .? May I . . .?”

Parsow had been told of Merry’s difficulties. He smiled at the obviously nervous hobbit.

“Of course, Merry. This is a good time as I am the only one here and all is quiet.”

Merry nodded as he cautiously stepped into the room to slowly make his way nearer to the bed. He was about halfway there when they heard a shuffling noise coming from the hall. Merry froze. He and Parsow stared at the open door.

Eventually, the head of Gimli the Dwarf appeared around the edge of the doorway. He looked around, then addressed the two in the room.

“Might I come in and have a wee moment with the young hobbit?”

Merry hadn’t heard the Dwarf sound so shy since the first time he had spoken to the Lady Galadriel.

“Of course, Gimli,” Parsow replied. “Merry and I are, as you have seen, the only ones here.”

Gimli nodded. He came in, nearly tiptoeing up to the bed.

“Ah, ‘tis all true then, what I’ve been hearin’. Poor wee young hobbit.”

The Dwarf, who usually seemed as tough as the mountains he loved was, like Merry, not the most comfortable around the severely ill. Although he had been there when Pippin had slipped into his current state, he had not been into the lad’s bedroom to visit him.

But Gimli stopped, looking startled. He frantically pulled the covers down a little further, then turned a withering gaze on the healer.

“Where is it, Parsow lad? You’d best know where it is and why it’s been taken off him.”

Parsow calmly answered. “It is under his pillow. The Lord Elrond put it there. He feared the lad might become entangled in it as we aren’t putting a nightshirt on him.” A deep look passed between them then Parsow added, “I think he knew it’s meaning and purpose as he treated it gently and with great respect. He said he knew it would not ‘do young Peregrin as much good’ being removed from him, but that it would still be near enough under the pillow. I was obviously the only one in the room at the time to whom his words made sense.”

They looked at each other a moment longer, then Gimli turned his attention to gently moving his hand about under Pippin’s pillow, feeling for the chain that bore the amethyst disk he had give to Pippin on the Field of Cormallen.

“Aye,” he sighed, “That makes sense. As long as Lord Elrond has been around and with the interest he has in healin’, it makes sense that he would be a little familiar with Dwarvish medicine.” Gimli drew the healing disk from under the pillow.

“I’ve brought some more gems. Ones more for . . . for,” He stopped to clear his throat. “For helping with the fallin’ sickness.” Gimli looked at Merry as he took a small pouch from inside his jerkin. “I’m sorry, young Meriadoc. I’d have put them on him sooner but it has taken a while for me to get word back and forth to the Dwarf healers. I sent word about the wee lad, told them he had the amethyst upon him already but was in great need of more specific help. Our greatest healer sent these with the last group of Dwarves who came to aid with the rebuildin’. And then, well, I too have difficulties being around one so ill . . . I was waitin’ for a time like this when thin’s were a wee bit quieter and when young Parsow here was the one on watch.”

He laid the chain and disk on the table by the bed. He then took some small pliers from the pouch and set to work removing the amethyst disk from the chain.

“Parsow, they keep purified water at the Houses for makin’ potions and such, don’t they?”

Parsow grinned wryly. Potions were the concoctions of false healers. “We use it for elixirs, tonics and such, yes.”

“Fetch some here along with some bandages. The disk needs cleansing and reenergizing. You pay attention to all of this, young hobbit,” Gimli added to Merry. “This needs to be done to all the stones, the healer said, about every six months or they begin to lose their potency.”

Parsow left the room but was back in only a moment. “I sent one of the Guardsmen to fetch it,” he said in explanation.

Soon the water and bandages arrived and the amethyst disc was placed within the pure water. Gimli finished his task then held up the mithril chain to show Parsow and Merry what had been added. Attached to the links, so they would not slip out of place, were three gems that, like the amethyst, had been shaped into disks of various sizes.

“The healer determined the sizes to best work together to help the lad, knowin’ as he’s a wee hobbit. Of course, he didn’t know he’s gone and done this to himself, but I’m hopin’ they will work right for him anyway.” He pointed to the largest, a deep green stone that the lamp light caused to glow. “Emerald is to help with the fallin’ sickness itself, it helps ease the bad spells and fits. This,” Gimli pointed to the next biggest disk, “is a sapphire. The healer said that the fallin’ sickness can trouble the mind and this will help the lad to think more clearly and find peace and joy instead of the sadness that will seek to trouble him.”

Gimli smiled at Merry. “I had mentioned that all of you brave hobbits are kith and kin of Bilbo and that all of you had faced the darkness spun by Dark Lord of Mordor. I told him Bilbo’s own heir had borne the One Ring to the Mountain. He expressed his gratitude and sent some small gifts for each of you and,” the Dwarf’s cheeks flushed, “he sent each of you a sapphire to help fight against whatever darkness still troubles you. They are like this one, so you can hang them on your watch chains or about your necks, though I can’t imagine young Frodo ever wantin’ to wear anythin’ around his neck again.”

Merry nodded at that. “I think you are quite right there, Gimli.”

After a moment of silence, Gimli continued. He pointed to the last disk which glowed like a drop of blood in the lamplight.

“Garnet. We wear this a lot, we Dwarves, as it isn’t strictly a healing stone. It gathers courage to the one wearing it, so we call it the “Warrior’s Stone”. The healer said the lad will have many battles ahead and he’ll need courage.” He paused, then said to Parsow, “We’ll need to let the amethyst cleanse for a while and then we can to put this back on the lad.” He shook his head to stave off Parsow’s attempted response. “It’s what the bandages are for, laddie. Lord Elrond’s concern is a good one, so we’ll just hang it around his neck then bind the stones to the lad’s chest. Tell everyone you had to do it to humour me,” he added with a wink.

Merry slowly moved to stand beside the bed. Again, the sight of his dearest friend in such a state wrung his heart. He placed his hand to his chest and drew in several slow, deep breaths.

“I want to take Pippin out in the garden,” he said in a distant sounding voice. Merry looked at the Dwarf. “Will you carry him for me, Gimli? I . . . I don’t think I can manage.” He turned to Parsow. “Can we put a night shirt on him so he doesn’t take a chill?”

He wanted to say “so he looks more asleep than nearly dead” but managed not to. “Pippin likes being outside at night. He likes the stars and the bit of chill in the air.”

The “real” Pippin liked those things just like the “real” Pippin liked singing and baths. Merry needed so badly to find the his Pippin hidden behind this drooling, soiling . . .

He squinched his eyes shut, his lips tightened. “Please,” he choked out.

“Of course, Merry,” Parsow replied, trying to not have too much cheer in his voice. Merry didn’t need any false cheeriness.

Merry kept his eyes closed. He hear the sounds of fabric being moved about, heard Parsow softly giving Gimli directions, then felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Come along, Merry.” Parsow encouraged. “Pippin is bundled up, warm and snug and here is a blanket for you to wrap about yourself and I’ve another for all of us to sit upon.” There was a pause then Parsow added, “Unless you want to be alone with Pippin?”

Merry opened his eyes but didn’t look at the healer, his eyes followed the sound of Dwarvish boots to see Gimli carrying a blanket-wrapped form out of the main bedroom door.

“No,” Merry mumbled as he started to follow Gimli. “No, I . . . I want you and Gimli to stay.” As they walked quietly along, he turned to Parsow and asked, “May I hold him?”

Parsow smiled and nodded. He hurried ahead to let Gimli know he was to wait until Merry was seated then place Pippin in his cousin’s lap. When they were all settled on the blanket Parsow spread upon the grass, they sat in silence. Merry hugged Pippin close, rocking him ever so gently. The moon had set for the night and the stars seemed close enough to touch. They sparkled and gleamed in the deep blue velvet of the firmament like gems on a lady’s gown.

Then, softly, as Frodo had in the morning, Merry began to hum. And the humming turned to singing. It was a very old song that hobbits often sang while holding vigil o’er a loved one.

When a song leaves my lips
it is only so you will feel loved,
through the night and the darkest dreams,
so that love takes the fear away from you.

Please, say just one word
and show me the barren field is alive.
Please, just press my hand
and show me how the veil lifts from your eyes.

A barren field of dying grass,
but please, let a crack open up,
a path to set the water free, to give hope to us,
when your pain is as high as the sky.

I am here for you, if you have to face danger.
I am ready now for every fight.
I am the first one who’d set you free, if I could,
and the last one to give up hope... ****

Merry put his cheek against Pippin’s cheek, whispering softly into his cousin’s ear, “I learned, my Pip. All I saw was how you had changed. All I saw was a hobbit who was hard to be around because he couldn’t pay attention, had to be watched over and had grown angry and hurtful. I didn’t see that it was all a shell. I didn’t see you were still the same inside. I left you to fight this by yourself because I was so blind. I’ve learned, Pip, I know better now. I will not leave you alone again.”

A breath of a sigh tickled Merry’s ear, a whisper of his name.

“Meh . . . ee.”

Merry moved to look at his cousin. Pippin’s eyes had cleared and the light in them, that sparkle that was his Pippin, shone through. But it was as though his cousin still could not see. The green eyes moved as though they were looking for Merry but were unable to find him, as one would look for something in the fog. Before they found Merry’s face, they went empty once again.

“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””
* The Fellowship of the Ring - A Conspiracy Unmasked

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** Melilot or sweet yellow clover (sometimes “king’s clover” - because Henry VII was said to have used it and/or the yellow flowers look like a high golden crown)

“For epilepsy, it is said in the United States of America to be ‘the one grand master-remedy,’ by giving a drop of the tincture every five minutes during the attack, and five drops five times a day in water, for some weeks afterwards.”
Extract from Herbal Simples Approved for Modern Uses of Cure by William Thomas Fernie (1897)

(In Qenya (primitive Quenya), Tolkien named the red clover 'kamilot'. David Salo identifies this plant as Trifolium, if that helps. In mature Quenya, 'malina' means yellow. "aranion" means "of the king", so it might be a good ending for your king's clover.
Elvish: Milot Aranion. Westron: Yellow Melilot

/// I thought I had saved the name of the kind person who did the Elvish translation for me and now, I can’t find it. My apologies and my sincere thanks to you if you are reading this. \\\
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*** The Two Towers - The Palantir
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Information about gemstones found at:

Gemstone bead index of “Rings & Things”
http://www.rings-things.com/gemstone/main.htm

and “Sobriety Stones”
http://www.sobrietystones.com/resources/spiritual_healing_e.htm

I mostly used Rings & Thing’s descriptions.

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**** Merry’s song to Pippin is taken from the song, “Und Wenn ein Lied” [“And If A Song” ] by the group, Söhne Mannheims. The song is in German and was translated into English by Golden, then edited by Pearl.

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Pippin will begin recovering in the next chapter, and will be considerably better by it's end. Thank you all for hanging in there with us :-)