Piecing the Puzzle Together

“Pippin?” Merry whispered. “Pippin,” he said again, this time louder.

He was tempted to shake the lad. Without turning to look at them he spoke to Parsow and Gimli.

“He was there. Pippin was there, in his eyes. He was there but couldn’t see me. He was there.”

Parsow had not been able to see Pippin’s face, but Gimli had. The Dwarf looked at the Gondorian.

“I saw it as well. For a wee moment the lad’s eyes had a sparkle to them.”

“And he whispered my name.” Merry let his excitement grow. “He did, he really did. He said ‘Meh . . .ee’. He said my name, Parsow! That’s a good thing . . .”

Merry paused. Dare he begin to hope? Merry looked at Pippin. His eyes once more had the glazed empty look of the dead.

“Isn’t it?” he finished lamely as his body sagged.

Parsow was nodding. He also feared getting too hopeful, but surely such things had to be good signs. “I think it is a good thing, Merry. I do not doubt what you say, but I do think we need watch for more such signs before we allow ourselves too great a celebration.”

The young healer rose. “I will go up to the Citadel and inform the Lord Elrond and his majesty. They will at least wish to be informed and may wish to come themselves and observe Pippin for a while. I think it would be best to take him to his bed. Merry?”

“Yes.”

“I know it is difficult for you and we can wait to see if he needs to be changed, but if you, or Gimli, would unwrap him it would be best I think. Also, you should stay with him, Merry, as much as you can. Keep talking to him and touching him. Even if he seems not to respond any further, I feel, as a healer, that it will do Pippin great good.”

“I will,” Merry shakily replied. His feelings kept leaping back and forth between euphoria and his old fears and discomforts.

Parsow hurried down the path and out the gate. Gimli stood, took Pippin from Merry and together they headed back into the house.

Parsow returned. Elrond arrived. Strider arrived. Frodo came into Pippin’s room as well, but at Elrond’s orders the rest of the household and any others who came as they heard the news, waited together in the large kitchen.

Everyone waited.

Did Peregrin sense all the concern around him? Did the anxious hopes of so many friends and loved ones make it’s way inside the shell the spells had set around his spirit, mind and body? None could know, except perhaps the great Elf lord. Elrond gently, carefully reached out with his spirit.

“I am certain of what you saw and heard, Meriadoc,” the master healer said with a sigh after several minutes had passed. “Peregrin’s spirit is very near now. It is as a river below a thin layer of ice.”

“Yes! Yes. I’ve seen the Brandywine like that.” Merry was glad this was something he could understand. “When the ice is so thin and clear that you can see the water flowing by beneath it but it isn’t yet free of the ice. And the ice is much too thin for a hobbit to walk on, but birds can still walk on it, the fish are still unable to jump, but that is all close to changing.”

Elrond smiled. He loved how clearly hobbits often saw things; their plain and simple ways of speaking. He would miss them when he left Middle-earth.

“Well said, Meriadoc. That is exactly what I meant. The ice is still thick enough to hide the water in most places, but there are now thin places where the water can be seen. I think we will start seeing more of Peregrin, but he is not yet free. The complete melting of the ice may go quickly, taking only a few days, or it may pass more slowly, taking weeks, but I feel the thaw is beginning.”

The Elf lord held up his hand. “You should understand, Meriadoc, and you as well, Frodo, that at first he will seem quite strange. You have seen when he has had a spell yet continued moving?”

“Yes,” Merry’s reply was subdued. He was certain he would not like what was coming. Frodo merely nodded.

“Peregrin may be like that much of the time at first. He will walk about but not seem to be looking where he is going. You and others will speak to him, touch him, but he will either not respond at all or will respond very slowly. He will be more a part of the here than he has been, and still remains, but for a while he will still be very much away from us.”

Elrond looked calmly at Frodo then at Merry. “It is important that all who will be around the young one understand this and make every effort to not let it discourage them. You in particular, Meriadoc. I think you will be able to reach Peregrin as none other will. That being so, you need to be careful to not frighten him, nor make him feel that you are upset with him as that could hold him back from returning. His spirit might seek to stay hidden where it feels safe.”

A strange, garbled noise came from the bed, causing everyone to startle then look down at Pippin.

“Lih,” he sputtered, then swallowed. “Lih.”

Again, his eyes had cleared. Again they moved with a little more intention, as though looking for something.

“Lih,” Pippin mumbled a last time, as his body relaxed and his eyes slowly closed. He sighed then lay quietly.

“Light!” Frodo exclaimed, pointing at the golden beams of morning sun that were shining through gaps in the curtains. “Pip was trying to say ‘light’!”

Merry was staring at Pippin, waiting for his eyes to open again. They had only been closed for very slow blinks until now. This time, they had stayed closed since the lids slid shut.

“E-Elrond, wh-what is h-appening?” Merry stuttered, forgetting Elrond’s proper address in his concern for his cousin.

The Elf lord smiled as he placed a gentle hand on the frightened hobbit’s shoulder.

“Something wonderful, Meriadoc. Peregrin draws nearer to the here. He is sleeping, Meriadoc. That means he is not having a bad spell. There is time between them and his exhausted body and mind are at last able to rest.”

The morning moved along, with Pippin sleeping until between first and second breakfast. It was then that he needed to be changed. Merry left and Frodo saw to his youngest cousin’s needs.

“Well hello, Pippin!” Frodo cheerily exclaimed when Pippin’s eyes slowly opened. They were clear and alert, though the lad still seemed unable to settle them on anything.

“I just need to get you tidied up a bit, Pip, I’m sure you’ll feel more comfortable.”

Frodo had nearly finished when Pippin experienced a couple of mild convulsions and the glassy stare returned to his eyes. His left hand fumbled at his throat and he chewed at the inside of his cheek.

“He’s gone again,” sighed the eldest hobbit to no one in particular as he shook his head. “The first test of Merry’s patience.” Frodo looked about the room. “Bergil, would you go tell Merry I’m all finished and you had best let him know Pippin’s having another spell. I think it would be best he not just walk in and find him like this again.”

“I agree, Frodo,” the lad nodded. “It is just as the Lord Elrond said would happen. But I’ll also let Merry know Pip was back for a little while before the spell came upon him. That will help, I think, for him to know Pip was awake again.”

“Good thinking, Bergil,” Frodo smiled and sighed. “I’ll take the soiled things to the bathing room when you get back with Merry.”

Bergil would have said Frodo needn’t bother, he could take care of that. But he had learned that there where times the hobbits preferred to do things for themselves. Legolas had told him that even though Sam was Frodo’s servant in some regards, not even on their Quest had Sam waited on Frodo as a servant would wait on a noble in the Citadel. The Elf had said it was most difficult to understand how hobbit society functioned.

Merry took this first relapse well. He sat at Pippin’s side playing with his cousin’s hair or resting a hand upon his cheek, all the while talking to him in a voice too soft to carry.

Between elevenses and luncheon, Pippin awoke again. He stayed awake a little longer, though his eyes still wandered, usually upward as though he was trying to find something on the wall beside the head of his bed. Sam came in and fed the lad some rice porridge and he was given a dose of the new medicine, all of which Pippin swallowed much better than he had before. But Pippin was only awake for less than fifteen minutes. He fell asleep before all of his porridge was gone.

That Merry was exhausted was obvious, but now that Pippin was having times when he was closer to being aware, he refused to leave. He finally agreed to try to sleep lying next to Pippin and was completely asleep in the short time it took Sam to fetch him a blanket.

Merry was still asleep when something very odd happened.

Strider and Arwen came to visit at luncheon when the king had a break in his day’s business. The Queen was quite concerned about the young hobbit, as so many in the city were, and had insisted on coming with her husband. A little after noon Pippin opened his eyes then, rather awkwardly, started trying to get up. Sam immediately moved to stop him, but both Aragorn and Arwen spoke up.

“No, Sam!” they said in unison.

“Let him get up if he wants, Sam,” the Queen gently said. “Only, we must follow him. Do not lose sight of him and stop him only if he goes some way or tries some action that could harm him.”

Pippin got out of bed and wandered off with a strange shuffling gait, Sam and Arwen following in his wake. They only stopped him long enough to put a dressing gown on him. Strider stayed behind so Merry would not panic should he awaken and find everyone, including Pippin, had gone.

“You should be seeing this, Merry,” Strider said to the sleeping hobbit with a smile. “Sir Peregrin is on his furry feet again. Let us hope that he manages to not start getting into trouble again soon as well.” The king chuckled softly to himself as he settled back into his chair.

Everything inside of Pippin was focused on what was inside of Pippin. The feeling of breathing, of moving, of seeing patterns, of hearing sounds. The words for things were not there. He didn’t think to himself, I’m walking or I’m seeing sunlight on the walls or I’m hearing Sam talking. There were just patterns of look at, movements to make and sounds in his ears. He was not part of them nor were they part of him. His bladder was full and something inside him knew that meant he should get up and go somewhere, so he got up and moved. But he went in his nappy.

Pippin stopped to look at the light on the walls. But he also tried talking to it. In the kitchen, Ioreth saw Pippin walk in and the shock of it caused her to drop the baking tray of biscuits she had just taken from the oven. Pippin startled. Something inside him said turn toward the noise, which he did, but his eyes made no effort to look for it’s source.

None of this felt strange to him. Nothing “felt” at all - it simply was or wasn’t.

Everyone else in the kitchen stared openmouthed as Pippin, Sam and Arwen all went back into the rest of the house. Frodo managed to recover enough to smile at Sam, who smiled back as he disappeared around the corner of the doorway.

Sam and the Queen of Gondor trailed around after Pippin for over half an hour. They were out in the garden when he stiffened and toppled, like a felled tree, to the ground. His watchers were on their knees beside him when the fit threw him into convulsions.

To Sam’s surprise, Arwen seemed more pleased than concerned or disappointed as the spasms began to subside.

“My husband and father have told me of Pippin’s other fits. It is quite obvious that this one was not as severe nor did it last as long as the others.”

Off to one side, Legolas, Gimli and Frodo, who had run out of the kitchen and were standing just behind the Queen, heard what Arwen said.

“It wasn’t as bad,” Frodo said softly.

“And that is a good thing, dear Frodo.” She smiled at the Ringbearer. “He is awakening. The King’s Clover is working as my father hoped it would.” She smiled down at the small form sprawled on the path. “We should return Peregrin to his bed.”

Legolas carefully picked Pippin up and the procession followed him back to Pippin’s room.

Merry had slept through it all until Pippin was put back in bed. He smiled at hearing about his cousin getting up and wandering around, was upset that Pippin had had a fit and no one woke him up, and was relieved to hear that it was not a bad as the other fits had been.

Eomer came as Merry took his tea in the kitchen. The King of Rohan looked in on Pippin, spoke to Sam and Ioreth, then returned to the kitchen, taking a seat beside his own hobbit knight.

“You have been missed, Meriadoc. Thank you,” he added to Gandalf who set a mug of ale beside Eomer’s hand. “The Rohirrim in the city are concerned for your kinsmen and yourself and would value hearing from you what is happening.”

Merry stared into his cup of tea while swirling the dusting of tea leaves around in the bottom. Not that he expected to see any signs in them, though he wished he would. He felt torn between the king he had loved and the cousin he loved even more.

“Peregrin is being well looked after, Meriadoc,” Gandalf said softly. “His recovery is progressing nicely. I would think it would do no harm if you should wish to return to your duties.”

Merry nodded, still staring into his tea. He knew one of the things that likely drove Pippin to quit taking his medicine had been being watched over as though he were a faunt. Now would be as good a time as any to start getting himself used to not hovering over his cousin like and old hen with her chicks.

“I think I shall do that.” He looked at his king. “Is there a place for me beside King Theoden this evening, Sire?”

“If there is not, I will make it so.” replied Eomer.

Merry changed into his livery, looked in on Pippin - taking a moment to gently touch his cheek - then went up to the Citadel to stand guard at Theoden’s bier for the remainder of the afternoon and evening. Aragorn and Arwen walked back up to the Citadel with Merry and Eomer.

Elrond and Parsow came to examine Pippin not long after Merry left, and give him his medicine just before supper time. Pippin woke up slowly. He was able to look at Elrond for a few moments before his eyes would once more drift off to look slightly upward and off to one side. He also was able to respond to some simple commands, lifting his hands, turning his head and looking at whoever spoke to him. All of these needed to asked more than once, and Pippin’s movements were slow, but it was an important change for the better.

Peregrin drank his medicine down smoothly and more of the thick beef broth that was his supper than went down his throat than down the towel he wore. Frodo and Sam talked and sang to him and Pippin talked and sang back . . . at least he tried to talk and sing. The talking was still garbled but he carried snippets of tunes rather clearly.

It distressed Frodo that his young cousin still could not focus his eyes on anyone or anything. He either stared off at nothing with only the gleam in his eyes to show he was not having a bad spell, or his eyes wandered about as though searching for something they were not finding. Pippin’s hands were restless, groping and grasping at everything and at nothing while at other times he would rock back and forth with an anxious energy.

Merry came in late from standing guard beside Theoden. He heard Frodo and Sam in Pippin’s room, and he heard Pippin still making noises more than words. He thought, for a moment, of joining them, but his heart was heavy. Though he did not realize it, the Darkness was creeping over him, weighing down his heart and soul. It would have done him good to have sat in his young cousin’s room, to hear him have the right notes to the simple songs even though he didn’t have the words. Merry’s heart would have lightened to see Sam and Frodo’s smiles and hear their gentle laughter. But Merry chose instead to go to his room; alone and having decided to forgo supper. He lay on his bed and stared at the ceiling until sleep overtook him.

A little less than two hours after finishing his meal, which had taken nearly half an hour, Peregrin had a bad spell that lasted several minutes, after which he fell asleep.

In the hour before dawn, when the night seems its coldest and darkest, a nightmare grew in Meriadoc’s mind. He was on a battlefield, surrounded by injury and death. No matter which way he turned he saw the same sight; Pippin driving his sword into the gut of a troll only to be crushed beneath its dying body as it crashed into the ground . The ground would shake beneath Merry’s feet, the sound of the troll’s fall would reverberate like thunder in the heavens. He would turn away from the horror only to be facing it all again.

Merry muttered. Merry whimpered.

Merry screamed.

In the room next to the smallest knight of Rohan, the smallest knight of Gondor stirred before ever the sound of a scream pierced the night. Pippin wiggled around then slipped his legs out from under the blanket to place his feet on the floor. When Merry screamed, Pippin was already standing.

Frodo jerked awake. Bergil was up and heading toward Pippin who had begun to make his wobbly way toward the connecting door to Merry’s room.

“No, Bergil! Watch him and see what he does, but do not stop him.” Frodo hissed in what wasn’t quite a whisper yet was also not his full voice. He and Bergil both followed Pippin.

If they had been before the lad instead of behind him, they would have seen that his eyes were focused on the connecting door. He tried to work the knob with his right hand, then switched to his left, staring at the door not his hands as he did so. The door swung open. Pippin walked through and over to Merry’s bedside. Without asking if he could do so, he pulled back the blankets and got into bed beside his older cousin.

Merry wasn’t awake. He lay on his back, still feebly twisting and turning whilst in his dream he was trying to find someway to escape the endless dying trolls and crushed Pippins. His sweat-soaked hair clung to his head in disarray.

Pippin stared at Merry’s face. He gently stroked at the dripping strands of honey coloured hair with his left hand.

“Bad dream, Merry,” Pippin softly and clearly said. He said it oddly, as though ‘Bad Dream Merry’ was his cousin’s name.

“Better Pippin here,” he said with the same strange cadence.

“Pippin here. Bad dream, Merry. Better. Better Pippin here.”

Over and over Pippin spoke the words in his detached way while pulling stray clumps of hair away from Merry’s face, then stroking his cheek. Gradually, Merry’s stirrings ceased, then Pippin’s mutterings ceased. Pippin lay his arm protectively over Merry’s chest and they both slept.

Frodo smiled and patted Bergil on the back.

“I suppose that is one way to pull Pippin back from wherever it is he has been. Have Merry be in need of him.” The oldest hobbit huffed a soft chuckle though his nose. “I think we can leave them as they are. We’ll leave the door open but return to Pippin’s room.

Frodo was soon asleep in his chair, but Bergil, feeling a need to be more vigilant as he was there in his role as a healer’s aid, moved his chair to where he could see through the door.

The morning light slowly illuminated Merry’s bedroom eventually shining with the brilliance of a clear day. Pippin lay wide-eyed on the bed staring at his cousin, his arm still resting on Merry’s chest. In fact Pippin had barely moved in few hours that had passed since he fell asleep comforting Merry.

Pippin slowly rolled over and got out of bed. He was dry, though that did not last long, once again he felt he needed to to something about what he was feeling but could not put the puzzle together quickly enough to do what was needed. Afterward, he felt something was wrong but couldn’t tell why. He walked down the hall to the privy, but didn’t go in, then he turned and walked away.

With a quicker pace and better balance than the day before, Pippin wandered into the kitchen. He had smelled breakfast cooking . . . Legolas had smelled him. Sam took Pippin back to his room to change him, but it didn’t go as easily as it had. Pippin fussed.

“Do you . . . need some help Sam?” Frodo asked, interrupting himself with a yawn.

“I don’t think so, Frodo. He’s behavin’ like he doesn’t want to be changed but like he doesn’t know what else to do.” Sam removed the nappy, picked up a clean one and set to work putting it where it went.

Pippin pushed it away. “No!” he said very clearly and with the proper intonation. Then the next moment pulled up on it. “Unders,” he said firmly.

“I’m thinkin’ he won’t be needin’ these much longer. He’s actin like a faunt that’s ready for goin’ without nappies.”

“Nappies?” Pippin asked, then added, “ ‘m no’ a faunt. He was looking perplexed. “Unders!” he repeated, then his eyes wandered off to stare at a far corner of the room.

“I’m thinking you are right, Sam.” Frodo rose and stretched. “Maybe we should try and see how he is doing without them, but walk him to the privy right before and after meals.” Frodo stretched again. “I’m going to get ready for the day Sam. I’ll see you in the kitchen in a few minutes.”

“Pippin and I will be there,” Sam smiled as he took off Pippin’s nappy, then went to the wardrobe to get him his small clothes. “Best hurry though as I’m thinkin’ the lad may be getting his appetite back. He showed up in the kitchen before I brought him back in here. That and Legolas is rather partial to my sticky buns and he’s in there alone with them. There may not be any left.”

By the time Frodo came into the kitchen, Pippin was well into his meal, and his meal was on him. He was clumsily using a spoon in his left hand for his porridge, then setting it down to use his fingers to eat his eggs. He had tried to get the eggs into his mouth with the spoon, but they had kept falling off. As hungry as he was, Pippin just decided to use his hands instead. It was so good to be eating regular food that he put too much of the eggs in his mouth and they escaped out the corners. The huge bites Pippin took of his sticky buns caused him to either gag or chew with his mouth open. Gooey crumbs joined the pieces of egg around the lad’s mouth.

The Took was obviously enjoying his meal, but it was equally obvious that he was enjoying it alone. He didn’t look at anyone unless they called his name several times or touched him repeatedly.

“Good,” he mumbled through a mouthful of eggs and sausage. Frodo was fairly sure he heard ‘sticky sweet’ as well, though it was hard to tell with Pippin’s mouth packed full.

“He’s disgusting,” Merry happily said as he came into the room in his dressing gown and scratching at his head. The fact that Pippin was eating regular food and feeding himself were vast improvements, Merry felt. He could handle this messy Pippin much better than the one that drooled most of his food down his chest. It felt wonderful to have something funny to say about Pippin. “He preferred eating like this until he was nearly five years old. It’s good to see him feeding himself.”

Merry sat down and began filling his plate. “Pippin, are you feeling better this morning?” he pleasantly inquired.

He received no response at all. Merry frowned.

“You need to get his attention, Merry,” Legolas said. “Repeat his name or tap him until he looks at you.”

Merry tapped Pippin on the side of his head until he slowly turned to face him.

“You are disgusting,” Merry said smiling an overly big smile.

“D’gus’in’,” Pippin said grinning, spraying Merry with sticky crumbs

“Yes. Disgusting.” Merry repeated laughing, while wiping with his hand over his face. “Are you feeling better Pip?

Pippin kept on chewing, looking Merry in the eyes. “Are you?” he gave the question back.

Then Pippin slowly turned away. He looked back at his plate of food, gone once more into his own world.

Merry’s smile had been replaced with an astonished expression.

Frodo smiled at him. “Pippin slept with you for awhile this morning, Merry. You had a nightmare. Pip got up and crawled into your bed with you to comfort you.”

Merry’s eyes grew even bigger and it took a great deal of effort not to cry, although he did get teary. He rubbed Pippin’s head through his curls. “Thank you Pip,” he said softly, but Pippin didn’t respond.

Peregrin stayed awake much of the morning. At times he was aware of his surroundings at others he was still not in the present. Later the hobbits were all in the kitchen together. Frodo and Merry were at the table enjoying a cup of coffee between second and elevenses. Pippin was sitting by the window, staring outside without really looking, rocking slightly and muttering to himself. Sam was making raspberry tarts because they were Pippin’s favorite.

As Sam spooned the sweet, syrupy filling into the still warm shells, a lovely rich aroma filled the kitchen.

“Frodo. Merry,” Sam whispered. “Look at Pippin.”

The lad sat perfectly still with his nose in the air like a tracking hound seeking a scent.

“Mum’s making raspberry tarts for me.”

The other three looked at each other in amazement as Pippin continued.

“Pervinca can’t have any because she teases me, but Nell and Pearl can have some.”

It was very clear that his mind was not in the kitchen in the house in Minas Tirith, but the memory he was experiencing was so strong that his speech was clear and complete.

“I love raspberry tarts,” Pippin said, but then he said no more. The moment came and it passed. Just a few minutes later, Pippin’s eyes glazed over. His head tipped to the side and his hands fumbled at his scarf, which Merry had earlier decided should be given back to his cousin now that he was doing better.

It was only a bad spell, not a fit, and though it only lasted about two minutes, that combined with his having been awake all morning was enough to send Pippin to sleep. Sam found Gandalf to have him come carry Pippin to his bed.

Everyone else in the household ate at noon, but the hobbits decided to wait for Pippin to wake up. It was nearly one o’clock when he came out of his room, still rosy from sleeping.

“Hullo,” Pippin muttered between yawns, as his eyes focused on the kitchen table. He went to the table where there was food sitting on some plates, grabbed a slice of apple, and stuck it into his mouth. The other three smiled. With every hour Pip became more the Pip they used to know.

Frodo took Pippin to the privy. He helped him to relieve himself and to wash his hands afterward. He was glad to see his cousin doing so well with this necessary task. Pippin also felt happy. Finally he had this piece of the puzzle back. The world around him was starting to have fewer missing pieces and seemed less and less strange. But still some holes were left in the puzzle; the picture was still not complete.

Meanwhile, Sam and Merry started to take their luncheon outside.

“I hope you two are right about this, Sam,” Merry was feeling rather uncertain about his older cousin’s idea. He didn’t think a picnic would be that good with Pippin being as messy as he had been at breakfast.

“Of course,” was Sam’s cheery reply. “We all know that Pippin has always loved picnics.”

And that he did.

They had a lovely feast. Sam, remembering Pippin’s difficult time with the silverware that morning, had put together a meal they all would eat with their fingers. There was cold chicken and slices of ham rolled up with cheese in them. There were berries, carrot sticks, pickles and the slices of apple as well as tea and juice and cold water fresh from the well to drink with the raspberry tarts for pudding.

Pippin did well, though his mind obviously kept wandering. He would be saying something then suddenly stop and a few times he got up and started walking down the path towards the gate.

Pip was lying on his back watching the clouds, or so it seemed, when Merry plucked a nearby carnation and started tickling Pippin’s nose and cheeks with it. He didn’t seem to notice at first, but then suddenly he snatched the flower from Merry’s hand.

He hadn’t even been looking at it so Merry jumped at the sudden movement. Pippin stuck his nose deep into the flower then drew in a huge sniff, which he then blew out through his mouth with a sigh.

“A carnation,” he sighed again before sniffing the flower several more times.

“Who grew the best carnations in the Shire, Pip?” Merry asked him.

“Sam’s Gaffer. Red ones in the north garden, white ones in the east garden.”

Pippin finally looked at the carnation he held in his hand. At first he looked puzzled; it was pink. It didn’t fit what he had been describing. But the concerned creases between his eyebrows slowly eased as he continued to stare at the flower then look around at the rest of the garden.

"A Minas Tirith flower. It's beautiful. The Gaffer would like it."

Then Pip was off again, looking back up at the sky while rubbing the soft petals against his left cheek.

The afternoon was a pleasant one. Frodo had escorted Pippin to the privy again before afternoon tea, just to be on the safe side, but Pippin didn’t need to go.

The four hobbits finished up the rest of the picnic goodies for tea then once more sat around on the cool grass, talking softly and listening to the birds singing in the trees.

Warm breezes. Full stomachs. Pleasant company.

Slowly they all drifted off to sleep . . . except for Pippin. His wandering mind had been in restful places. He had watched clouds floating by, listened to the soft sounds of his friends voices, and wandered in various pleasant memories of the Shire, all without any conscious choosing or thought. And it was without conscious thought that he once more got up to walk down the garden path towards the gate.

He stopped at the gate. For a moment, it appeared the gate would stop him, but it did not. Pippin eventually lifted the latch and walked out of the garden.

He was wearing an old shirt and loose trousers held up with braces, so he didn’t look that different from the boys of Minas Tirith who played in the streets all day. The hobbit walked along, looking at, yet not really seeing, the things and people he passed. Down to the end of the street he ambled, then to his right down a narrower street. Through a couple of the aches that spanned the road, then out onto a large open square where a fountain bubbled cheerily.

Pippin went to the edge of the fountain and stared at the splashing water. It sounded so pretty. He sat down and dragged his right hand through the coolness of the water. After splashing around awhile with his hand in the water he felt something. He had that feeling again, but this time he knew what it meant.

He should go to the privy.

But no one was taking him by the arm and leading him there. Frodo had been doing that, but now Frodo wasn’t there.

Pippin stood up, confusion clearly written on his face. Where was he? Where was the privy?

He did not know.

He just stood there, unsure of what to do and becoming more and more anxious.

On the far side of the square, a young girl with gold-red hair stood beside a dog with fur nearly the same color as her own hair. The dog was tall compared to the girl, it’s back nearly coming to her hips. The child was holding a doll so that it looked as though it were riding the dog like a horse.

“Your ride is over, Feva,” the girl told her doll while lifting it off of the dog. “Time to say good bye to Sunshine.”

She waggled Feva’s arm at the dog.

“That’s right. Good bye, Sunshine. Pippin needs you. Take him home Sunshine and then you get to stay with him. You are his dog now.”

Sunshine looked up at Mallefinnros with a doggy grin on her face. She nudged and licked the child’s hand, then trotted off towards the hobbit, who was still just standing there beside the fountain. Sunshine stood beside Pippin, nudging his right hand with her muzzle until his hand was resting on the back of her neck. She took a couple of steps. His hand slid along her back as he continued to stand where he was.

The golden dog circled behind the hobbit, then pushed against the back of his legs. Pippin took a couple of stumbling steps as the dog placed her neck under his hand once more. This time, as she moved, he griped her fur with his two good fingers and his thumb. She walked off with Pippin walking along beside her.

Frodo woke to the sound of the garden gate banging shut. He startled, then sat up. Panic rose within him for a moment, but that turned to shocked amazement as he recognized Pippin walking up the garden path with a golden dog at his side.

Pippin began speaking before he was even close to Frodo and the others, who were still sleeping on the grass. “I was gone, Frodo, but now I’m back,” the lad said, without looking in Frodo’s direction. He did not stop to talk but walked right by his eldest cousin. “I’m tired.” Pippin said through a yawn. “Need to go. Going inside.”

He shuffled up the path as Frodo shook Merry and called to Sam. “Get up you two. Get up! I’m not sure what’s happened but . . . just get up!”

Frodo hurried after Pippin with Merry and Sam close behind him. They found Pippin standing in the hall not far from the privy door. He was staring down at the dark spot on the front of his trousers and the puddle that was forming on the floor.

“Pippin!” Frodo called out. He hadn’t realized that was what Pippin had meant when he said he had to go.

Merry had moved around Frodo to stand at Pippin’s side. He looked at Pippin’s stained trousers. It was so hard to have his nearly adult cousin having accidents. None of it had bothered him when Pippin had been a baby and a faunt, one expected it of babies and faunts.

Slowly, the lad looked up. He blushed a deep red as tears were running down his face.

“I . . . I’m sorry . . .” Pippin sniffed and swallowed. “I was late. Don’t be angry. Please.”

Merry looked at Pippin’s face as he spoke. He saw the pain and embarrassment there; he heard it in Pippin’s voice. It was his Pippin speaking, not the odd sounding voice that he’d had recently. This was his Pippin once more saying he was sorry, but this time, it was for something that had not been his fault. A shiver ran down Merry’s spine. Hadn’t he promised Pip that he’d learned his lesson? Hadn’t he said he would be there for him when he was hurting? How would he want Pippin to treat him if he had been the one in Pippin’s situation?

Merry stood a bit taller and straightened his shoulders. Pippin needed him. He draped an arm across Pippin’s shoulders.

“It happens to everyone, Pip. Everyone has had an accident at sometime. I’ll go with you to the privy to make sure you’re all done, then we’ll go to the bathing room and clean you up. Frodo will get you some clean clothes and bring them to us, and Sam will get your bed ready. You look really tired, Pip.”

As the two cousins went off toward the privy, Frodo and Sam both stood there nodding their quiet approval at what Merry was doing; at the change it showed in the future Master of Buckland.

While they walked to Pippins room, Sam looked at Frodo and said, “Pippin was embarrassed. He wasn’t before. And he was on his way to the privy on his own. I’m thinkin’ that’s a good thing.”

Frodo nodded. “Yes, it surely is. But I’d say it’s still best for now to leave the oilcloth on his bed. He went to Pippin’s wardrobe and took out clean small clothes and a nightshirt, then headed off to the bathing room.

Sam shook out the bedding and made everything ready for Pippin. The whole time he was watched by the dog that had accompanied Pippin home and now sat patiently next to his bed. Even though it was a strange dog, Sam wasn’t afraid of it. The large animal was calm and quiet, and Sam felt totally relaxed. After he got the bed ready, he picked up a cloth for cleaning up the puddle in the hall.

When Frodo and Merry were finished with taking care of Pippin, they walked with him to his room. The dog still sat next to the bed, wagging her tail when she saw Pippin. Pippin walked up to it, patted its head then got into bed. The big golden dog jumped up and lay down at his feet. Pippin tucked himself in and went to sleep, leaving Sam smiling while Frodo and Merry stared at the dog.

“Where did the dog come from?” Merry whispered, who not really had noticed the animal before.

“I’m not sure,” Frodo replied. “She was with him in the garden just now, I think. I was too busy being surprised by Pippin saying he’d been gone.” Frodo blushed. “We need to be more careful about falling asleep.”

Merry chuckled, though it was a bit shaky. The thought of Pippin out alone in the city, still as confused as he was, frightened him. “Well,” he finally said. “Leave it to Pippin to wander off and bring home a dog.”

Frodo got one of those looks on his face that made Sam think of the Elves. That look of knowing something his master really shouldn’t have known. “I think, the dog brought home a Hobbit,” Frodo said softly, as he waved Sam and Merry out of the door. He stopped a moment before he left the room.

“Thank you,” he whispered to the dog. Frodo wasn’t sure, but he thought she nodded to him just before he turned away.

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A/N: We could not find a lot about what happens when one wakes up after an absence status. It was only said that the waking up does not happen abruptly, but is slow and comes with confusion and restlessness. In children, they also often lose abilities they already had. So we just tried to put all this and our imaginations together for Pippin’s recovery.