On the sixth day, Pippin's hand twitched very slightly, and Merry became very excited. He called for Strider immediately to come and tend to his cousin. Aragorn calmly strode into the tent and walked over to take Pippin's hand. He put his other hand on Pippin's forehead, closed his eyes, and recited some more Elvish. Merry was growing very weary of this; he didn't understand what good it did to speak in a different language when his cousin needed medical attention. The minutes dragged on, until finally Merry lost patience.

"Strider, what are you doing? Is he waking up, or isn't he? Does he need medicine? What is it that he needs?"

"What he needs is for you to trust me to know what I'm doing, Merry," Aragorn replied calmly. "Can you do that? Remember, I've been trained by the best healer in Middle Earth."

Merry sighed, shuffling his feet. "I'll try, Strider. I'm sorry, I'm just going crazy with all of the waiting. Why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been six days."

"Yes, and it may well be a few more, Merry, before he wakes up. I'm sorry, but his body needs rest to heal itself, that's why he still remains unconscious. Everything that can be done for his injuries is being done, Merry; his ribs are in the process of healing, the wounds in his shoulder and back are coming along nicely with no infections. He's been very lucky so far. Let's hope that luck continues."

Merry muttered something under his breath. Aragorn ignore it, knowing how concerned the hobbit was for his young cousin and friend.

"I’m finished here, Merry. Why don't we go sit outside, smoke a pipe?"

The two did just that. There were benches set up at the entrances to the healing tents, and Man and Hobbit sat on one of them, pipes in hand. Aragorn set to describing what Merry could expect within the next few days.

"I suspect Pippin will wake soon. I'm sure he will awaken before Frodo and Sam. When he does, you must not expect too much, Merry. He will be very weak; he probably won't even be able to feed himself or make his way to the privy. You also must be prepared for a slow recovery. He will most likely be in a great deal of pain for awhile, so I will have to keep him sedated with draughts for the first few days. I would appreciate it if you'd be willing to help him walk around the tent after the third day for exercise at least once a day, for about 15 minutes. I assume you'll be more than willing to help out whenever he needs it?"

Merry gave Aragorn a look. "Of course Strider, I’ll be there for as long as Pippin needs me."

Aragorn smiled sadly. "Of course you will, I needn't have asked. Please forgive me."

"It’s all right. You must be exhausted, Strider; when did you last sleep?"

"Oh, don't worry about me; there's enough Elvish blood in me that I can do without rest for great lengths of time."

"But you are also a Man, and therefore mortal. Which means you need sleep sooner or later, and from the looks of you, it should be sooner."

Aragorn was amused. "Well, thank you kindly for your concern, Merry. Maybe I will get a little sleep after I've finished my pipe. As a matter of fact, I would welcome some rest. It has been rather gruelling work, albeit rewarding, especially when your charges start making progress, however small. And never doubt, Pippin IS making progress."

"How can you tell?"

"Well, for one thing, his slight movement today. I find that very heartening. Also, I've noticed how his breathing has eased over the past few days. Actually, I think having you by his side has hastened his recovery. He's aware that you're here, I'm sure of it. I've almost convinced myself that I've seen slight responses to your voice in his breathing pattern, although that could just be my over-active imagination. Don't give up hope, Merry. It seems that perhaps your cousin may make a full recovery, although his bones will probably always ache whenever the weather changes. That is a small price to pay in order to come back from the abyss like this."

Aragorn took his leave of Merry to go get some rest. Thoughtful, Merry walked back into the tent, sat in the chair at Pippin's side, and took his hand. After thinking that he had lost Pippin for good, having some hope to hang onto felt good. Although Merry hated to expect too much, in case the worst still happened. It was a fine line he was walking, between hope and despair. Well, maybe not despair, but acceptance. How did one know when to accept, and when to hope? Sighing, Merry leaned back and closed his eyes. Within moments he was sound asleep.