Merry woke up as the sun first started coming over the eastern horizon. The decision had been made to let him sleep through the evening, on into the night. Clearly, he was exhausted; he didn’t move so much as a muscle from the time he lay down early in the afternoon until he awoke at sunrise the next morning. He felt very refreshed after his over-long sleep, and at first was unaware of the time until he stepped outside of the tent and looked around. Shocked that he could have slept so hard for such a long time, he inhaled deeply and let out a frosted breath. Gandalf and Gimli were both still sleeping soundly, and Legolas was up and about somewhere, as he always was at that hour of the day.

Stretching and yawning, Merry clutched his cloak tighter around himself to keep off the early morning chill; even this far south the nights and early mornings could still see temperatures below freezing. Merry cocked his head, and realized that he heard no stirrings within the camp at all, not even from the healer’s pavilion. The night must have been an easy and restful one for the wounded.

Merry strode between the healer’s pavilion and Pippin’s tent, knowing that Pippin would be sound asleep at this time of the day. He didn’t want to disturb his young cousin’s healing rest. Merry’s feet softly padded soundlessly through the camp until he came upon the banks of a small stream. He followed it as it meandered away from the camp, and found himself entering a small wooded area of oak trees that were just beginning to show their green buds. Merry hoped they wouldn’t be damaged by the frost.

Now that he was awake, Merry’s restless mind started looking for things to think and worry about. Now that Pippin seemed to be doing alright, his thoughts immediately jumped to Frodo and Sam. Maybe he should look in on them as soon as he finished with his walk. Strider seemed to think that they would be asleep for a few more days yet. Merry didn’t understand it; how much sleep could two hobbits really need? Even if they had been grievously injured, to rest and heal was one thing; to lie there unconscious for any length of time was disconcerting, to say the least. He supposed that Strider knew what he was doing, but the worrier in Merry would not let the thought rest that Frodo and Sam should have awoken by now.

As if his thoughts had taken shape, Merry noticed a Man coming towards him out of the early morning mist. It was Strider. Swallowing hard, and hoping that he couldn’t read his mind, Merry called out a greeting.

"Merry! I’m surprised to see you out here. I thought you were still slumbering away; you were a very exhausted young hobbit, I must say. What brings you out into the chill and damp this morning?"

"I woke up instantly refreshed, and I must say I’m not surprised, given the length of time that I was asleep. Why ever did you let me sleep so long, Strider? I thought you were going to wake me for supper."

"Well, I was, but when I saw how deeply asleep you were, I just let you be. I think it was the best thing for you, to sleep so well and hard."

"Perhaps so, but it can’t be good to do so 24 hours a day." He looked hard at Strider. "You know of whom I speak. Why must Frodo and Sam sleep for so long? I must say, it doesn’t seem natural."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Are you saying that I don’t know what I’m doing, Meriadoc?" The tone of his voice let Merry know that he was just jesting, but Merry wouldn’t be put off.

"Of course not, Strider; I’m just voicing my concern, that’s all. After all, you aren’t around hobbits all the time, and perhaps don’t know all of their habits and strengths. Even a very sick hobbit won’t sleep that much."

Aragorn grew sombre. He bent over and put both his hands on Merry’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. "You have to remember from whence they have come, Merry. Your darkest dreams cannot begin to imagine the horrors that they have been through. They were literally at the brink of death when Gandalf and the eagles rescued them. They had been without water and food for a very long time, and neither one of them had slept well for weeks. Frodo had been wounded by orc whips and spider bites, and he and Sam both had been breathing the foul, Mordor air."

Merry looked at him without expression. "How can you know all of this?"

Aragorn hesitated but an instant. "I have looked into their minds."

Merry was horrified. He stepped back. "You what?" he asked incredulously.

Aragorn sighed as he straightened up. "I don’t like to do it, Merry, but in order to heal, sometimes I have to. Lord Elrond did the same with Frodo as he was searching for the shard in Rivendell. He had to soothe Frodo’s mind in order to bring him back from the abyss. I did the same with you when I brought you back from the black shadow. I never delve very deeply, only on the surface. I had to know what I was dealing with in order to help heal them. You must know that I would never do anything to hurt them… to hurt any of you."

"Any of us? Us being hobbits, I suppose?" Merry was quite angry. "I can’t speak for the others, but for me, I’m tired of being treated differently than Men, Elves, Dwarves … well, everybody else! We aren’t to be handled like we're delicate glassware, Strider! Do what you must, and if you can’t save us, you must let us go. Frodo and Sam don’t want to exist as mere shells of their former selves." Tears blurred Merry’s vision, but he didn’t stop. "If you can’t heal them without taking their humanity away, then let them go. You must; Pippin and I must, as well. You have to be honest with us, and let us know when their time has come." Finally, the emotion of the moment overwhelmed him; Merry covered his face with his hands, and sobbed freely, shoulders shaking with repressed sorrow.

Aragorn gently put his arms around the shoulders of the weeping hobbit; Merry tensed slightly, but didn’t react any further. Aragorn knew that hobbits weren’t embarrassed to be seen crying by others as other races tended to be, so he just stood next to Merry, letting him know by his presence that he was available for support and conversation if that’s what Merry wanted.

As the sobs gently receded, Aragorn smiled down at the small hobbit. "Now that Pippin is recovering, your mind must find something else to worry about, mustn't it? It's not surprising that it would turn to Frodo and Sam next." Aragorn's smile disappeared, and he tipped Merry's chin up to look into his eyes. "Merry, do not relinquish hope for your kinsman and friend. Despite what it looks like, they are healing nicely, both physically and mentally. They have wandered far, and I have called them back as much as I can; the rest is up to them. I do not sense hopelessness about them anymore; at first, neither one of them wanted to return. Their burden had been so heavy, all they wanted was to rest for as long as possible. This feeling was especially strong in Frodo. And what the master feels, the servant must also. But they have turned the corner. They both want to come back now, and convincing them was half the battle. Really, Merry; I'm telling you the truth." Aragorn's grey eyes searched Merry's blue ones pleadingly.

Merry finally relented. He felt slightly guilty for chastising the future King of Gondor; he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Strider was to be King. He bowed his head. "I believe you, Strider. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. All the stress of waiting for them to wake up... it's finally caught up to me. I trust you implicitly; I never meant to imply otherwise."

Aragorn smiled. "Apology accepted, my young friend. Sometimes I think the hardest part isn’t being one of the wounded, but being one of those who were lucky enough to escape unscathed. Watching our loved ones suffer is never an easy thing, is it?"

Merry shook his head. "No, it’s not. But I trust you and the other healers; Frodo, Sam and Pippin are all going to be okay, thank the Valar. I don’t know what I would have done if I had been the only one left, Strider; there’s no way I would be able to return to the Shire alone."

"Let’s not dwell on that, for you won’t have to return alone. Are you hungry, Merry? My stomach tells me that it’s about time for breakfast."

Merry knew a distraction when he saw one; however, he wasn’t inclined to argue. "Starving, Strider. Do you suppose that Pip is awake yet?"

"Probably not yet; it’s still early. Why don’t we check in on him first, just to make sure he’s sleeping restfully?"

Sure enough, Pippin was sound asleep, snoring softly as healer and hobbit glanced inside his tent. Merry silently padded over to him and laid a kiss on his forehead, light as a feather. Pippin stirred slightly, and said very clearly, "No, Mother, I don’t know where Merry is; have you checked the larder?" Aragorn snickered softly, swiftly stepping away from the tent so as not to wake Pippin.

Merry stepped out of the tent and grinned at Aragorn. "He must be dreaming of the time that I broke Aunt Eglantine’s pitcher with the pretty blue primroses; it had been her favourite, and she was quite angry. I hid in the larder, and the little rascal ratted me out! Of course, he was only ten at the time; I couldn’t really blame him. It wasn’t his fault that I was clumsy."

Aragorn laughed. "I’m sure that he got into plenty of scrapes himself, knowing him. When he wakes up I shall get more stories from him about your childhood together; I’ll bet he could enlighten me on a lot of different things concerning hobbits."

Merry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I’m sure. At any rate, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat."

"Alright. I hope you don’t mind that we are joined by Elladan and Elrohir. They are the best healers in Middle Earth next to Elrond, and I usually get their opinions on my cases first thing in the morning. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Most agreeable. Now onward, before I faint from hunger."

"Honestly, Merry, you’d think that… oh dear, you did miss supper last night, didn’t you? You must be ravenous."

"What I’ve been trying to say!"

The two friends chatted on as they followed their noses towards the meal tent. The mouth-watering aromas of eggs, sausages, bacon, potatoes, and mushrooms assaulted their noses and made them even hungrier, if that were at all possible. They both piled their plates high with food, then made their way over to one of the tables that had been set up, joining the Elven brothers who were already half-way done with their breakfasts.

"Greetings, Estel! Good morning, Meriadoc!" Elladan proclaimed. "How are you two this glorious morning?"

"Wonderful!" Merry responded as he sat across from them. For the next few minutes, Merry was silent as he ate while Aragorn and the twins discussed the doings for the day. The brothers were acting as Aragorn’s assistants while he acted as healer to the many sick and wounded that were still recovering. There were other healers available to help as well, but the three of them personally tended to the most grievously wounded, as well as to the three perian.

"Will Pippin be able to eat anything solid yet?" Merry asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"I think that we will keep him on liquids today yet," Aragorn replied. "He’s not going to be too happy about that, but it can’t be helped. He also should remain in bed as well, and not try to get up yet. I want to be on the safe side."

"How much longer before Frodo and Sam are awake, do you think?" Merry asked anxiously.

"Well, let’s see; they’ve been asleep for seven full days now; another week should do it. In six days I will start giving them tonics that will bring them to wakefulness."

"That long?" Merry was clearly not too happy with the information.

"Yes, that long. If we wake them before they are ready, that will be just as bad as if they hadn’t been asleep at all. The whole purpose of this sleep is for healing in both mind and body. Don’t grow impatient, Merry; it all serves a purpose."

"Yes, of course," Merry mumbled, and went back to eating with a vengeance.

Elrohir grinned at the hobbit as Merry continued to shovel food into his mouth. "Are you getting enough to eat, Merry?" he asked facetiously.

"I will as soon as I return with my second helping," Merry replied as he got up and headed towards the food with his plate. Aragorn tipped his head back and roared with laughter. Occupants of adjacent tables looked up from their plates and looked in his direction, clearly baffled at what their leader could find to laugh about so early in the morning.

"What’s this?" said a gruff voice. Aragorn looked up into the grey eyes of Gandalf. "What warrants such levity, my liege?" the wizard asked amusedly. "Could it be the eating habits of a certain young hobbit?"

"’Tis such, Mithrandir," replied Elrohir good-naturedly. "It is a joy to watch one eat with such gusto and enthusiasm. It certainly has whetted my appetite. I believe I need another helping of mushrooms." Winking at his brother, Elrohir stood up and made his way over to the food. As Elrohir left, Merry returned with his plate piled higher than it was the first time.

"Good heavens, Meriadoc, one would think that you’d save some for the rest of us," grumbled Gandalf.

"Remember, Gandalf, I missed supper," explained Merry. "Also, since there’s no such thing as second breakfast or elevenses here, I have to eat enough to tide me over until lunch, yes?"

Gandalf smiled. "But of course! I’d nearly forgotten how many meals you hobbits are used to having. Three meals a day doesn’t quite cut it, does it?"

"Not nearly," Merry said under his breath, but Gandalf’s sharp ears caught it, and he heartily laughed. Hobbits were such delightful creatures!

Aragorn and the twins started the day by making their morning rounds of the wounded. Gandalf kept Merry company as he started his first helping while Merry delved into his second. Merry was in high spirits after sleeping so much and being able to eat a huge breakfast. Before Pippin had regained consciousness, he had barely eaten a thing. He had had no appetite. Now, he was making up for lost time.

"Slow down, lad," Gandalf admonished. "The food isn’t going anywhere; take time to savour and enjoy it, or you’ll end up with a stomach-ache. Aren’t the mushrooms succulent?"

"Excellent mushrooms!" Merry agreed as he slowed his eating. "I’ve never seen these kind before; they don’t grow in the Shire. They’re very tasty."

"Indeed." Gandalf smiled. Hobbits never ran out of things to talk about when discussing food. "Will Peregrin be able to eat anything today?"

"Not yet; Strider says he can only take liquids yet today, and then maybe some food tomorrow. He also must remain in bed today as well. He’s going to go stir-crazy, if I know Pippin. Poor lad; I feel sorry for the healer assigned to him."

"So do I; Pippin will talk his ear off." Gandalf replied. "Well, I’m finished. I have business to attend to, and I assume you’re off to see your cousin?"

"Yes," Merry replied, "he should be awake by now."

"Alright then." Gandalf stood up with his plate. "As soon as I’ve finished, I will join you and see what the young scamp has been up to from his bed."

Merry grinned. "If anyone can get into mischief without even getting out of bed, it would be Pippin."

"Right you are. I’ll talk to you later, Meriadoc."

"Good-bye, Gandalf." Merry turned to his plate and ate his remaining food with gusto. When he was finished, he returned the empty plate to the cooks, and made his way to Pippin’s tent. Merry was in high spirits, after getting a good night’s sleep and seeing to a full belly. He hoped that Pippin was awake; he missed his cousin’s lively chatter.

He stepped into Pippin’s tent, and immediately came to a full stop. Mouth gaping, his eyes roamed the entirely of the tent. Pippin’s cot was empty, and there was no sign of Pippin anywhere.