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Trotter  by Dreamflower

 

Chapter Fourteen: A Very Long Night

I glanced up at Elladan. Would it be acceptable for me to distract this little one for a while? He gave me a very small smile, and nodded.

"I have a pony. Would you like to see him?" As I had hoped, this brought a smile to little Thorn's face. He nodded enthusiastically. "I do need to tend to poor Porridge," I said to the Elf. "I just left him standing there..."

"There is a stable. Lead him past the house to the west; you will see a paddock there, and on the other side, a small barn. There is a Man there, named Lainon; tell him I sent you." I thanked Elladan, and taking Thorn by the hand I led him outside. It was very odd to feel the chubby, child's hand, nearly the same size as my own. "My pony's name is Porridge," I said.

Thorn giggled. "That's a funny name for a pony."

I led him over, and Porridge looked up from his cropping of the grass and whickered a soft greeting. He seemed pleased to see me, and I patted his nose. "Hullo, lad. This is Thorn."

The child seemed completely unafraid, and patted my pony on his soft nose. "Can I ride him?" he asked me.

"Not just now. He is tired, for we've had a long journey, and I am sure he would like to rest. Let's take him to the stable." We led Porridge to the stable, where the stablehand stared at me in surprise, but was courteous enough when I gave him Elladan's message. I saw Elladan's horse, and Elrohir's, as well as Flein and a couple of other horses were already there. Flein whinnied a greeting, for he and Porridge had become good friends.

Once we were certain that the pony was in good hands, I allowed Thorn to lead me away. We rambled aimlessly about the village as he showed me the sights-- or rather what a small child would consider the sights. We saw the pond where he liked to catch frogs and the space between the house and a boxwood shrub that made a lovely place to hide. We saw the tree he liked to climb, from which hung a swing. We saw the place where he liked to play in the dirt. All of these places were within the sight of any who cared to look from the door of the house, and he did not seem inclined to wander further away than that. He chattered on about things and people of which I knew nothing, but I enjoyed his prattle. But then, in the middle of telling me of a certain friend, who could spit further than anyone else he knew, he stopped abruptly, and looked at me seriously. "Ada and Nana say I will have a brother or sister."

"Yes, it does seem that way," I said. "You will be a big brother!" I paused a moment, and added, "I have three little brothers and three little sisters, and I have four big brothers."

His jaw dropped and he stared at me in astonishment. "How many is that?" he asked finally, holding up his chubby fingers. I took his left hand and bent down the first finger of his left hand.

"Isengar is my littlest brother." I bent down the next finger, "And Mirabella is my youngest sister." He looked up and nodded. I went on to each finger, "Then there is Donnamira, and Belladonna, my next two sisters, and Hildibrand". He looked at his five fingers, now clutched into a little fist. I took his right hand, and turned down the first finger on that hand. "That's for Isembard."

I pointed at my chest, "Then there is me."

I returned to his fingers. "Then we have Isembold, and Hildigrim, and Isumbras," (I did not mention Hildigard, who had died of the spotted fever when only a faunt), and finally I turned down his thumb, "And then there is my very oldest brother, Isengrim." I stopped and stepped back.

Thorn stared at his fists for a moment, and then spread his fingers out once more and wiggled them. "That's a lot," he said in wonder. "And they have such funny names. Tell me about them."

So we went and sat upon the doorstep, and he leaned against me. I put my arm around his shoulders, and noticed his thumb finding its way into his mouth. I smiled, and began to talk of my brothers and sisters. "Isengar is a funny little fellow," I said. "He is always running around after us older children, and trying to do things that he is too young for…" I had thought speaking of them this way might make me feel melancholy and homesick, but it did not.

Instead, I felt close to them in a way that I had not in their presence, for several years-- since my mid-tweens, at least. I told him of them all, especially comic stories of my sisters, whom I had delighted in teasing, and of my older brothers, whom I had followed about the way 'Gar had followed 'Brand and 'Bard and me. "My oldest brother, Isengrim is a very good archer. He is the best archer in all of the Shire, and always wins the competitions at Lithe…"

I glanced down. My young companion had fallen asleep against me. I noticed that it was getting late. My arm had gone to sleep, and my stomach was reminding me that I had missed teatime and that supper was likely past as well. But I knew that meals were often the last thing on the minds of a family when a birth was imminent.

Still, I wondered what I was to do with Thorn. I was loathed to wake him, for he looked so peaceful. But he was far too large for me to carry in to his bed as I had sometimes done for my younger sibs at that age. Yet I was beginning to think that I would have to do so, when the door opened behind us. I glanced round and looked up. It was the Man called Argonui.

"Ah!" he said. "Lord Elladan told me that you were taking care of my grandson, Master Halfling. I thank you." He bent over and picked up the sleeping child. "Come in. Since they made her leave the room, my wife is preparing some supper. It will be a long night I fear, and we might as well eat."

I could not have agreed more. I followed him back into the house.

I watched as he carried his grandson into the chamber from which the child had come earlier. I looked about-- I could smell the lovely aroma of sausages frying, and saw the woman called Meldis at the large hearth at the back of the house. At the large table, Elladan sat with Arador. I walked over to them.

"Is all going well?" I asked.

Arador looked at me apologetically. "I seem to have forgotten you altogether, my friend. I am sorry; Elladan tells me you have been tending my small son for me. Thank you."

I placed a hand on his arm. "That is all right. Thorn is a delightful child."

He chuckled weakly. "Ah, a nickname for him already, Trotter!"

"And how is his mother doing?" It seemed quieter in the chamber where the labouring mother lay.

Elladan answered. "Elrohir and Glavror the midwife are the only ones attending her now. My brother gave Norniveth a calming draught-- she is asleep in little Arathorn's room. She is very worried about her daughter. Elrohir threw everyone else out-- he said everyone's fear was making things harder for Moriel. The labour has slowed, but is progressing."

"She had such a difficult time with Arathorn," Arador said, "and now this child is nearly six weeks early."

I patted the arm. "I am sure that things will work out. My mother bore twelve of us. And my sister Mirabella was nearly six weeks early, but all was well in the end."

Arador looked at me in astonishment. "Twelve! However did your father stand it?"

Argonui came out of the other room. "He is sleeping soundly by his grandmother's side. I do not believe it would be wise to waken either of them to eat." He glanced at me, and then at his son. "My son, you have brought us a guest?"

"I am sorry, Adar. This is my friend Hildifons of the Shire, who has become known among us as Trotter. Trotter, this is my father Argonui, Chieftain of our people"

I made my bow. "At your service, Lord Argonui, and your family's."

He smiled. "You have already been of some service to my family this day, I thank you."

He sat down, and turned to Elladan. "Lord Elladan, I thank you and your brother as well for your timely arrival. My wife was insistent that we send for the itinerant surgeon who lately left the village, but I feared that course of action would be disastrous."

I left the three of them to talk things over, and wandered to the back of the room where the other woman was cooking. The sausages smelled wonderful, and I saw she was paring potatoes.

I approached her and introduced myself. "Hildifons of the Shire at your service, my lady."

She gave me a smile, and I thought she looked far too young to be a grandmother. "And I am Meldis of Two Rivers, at yours, Hildifons."

"My friends call me Trotter," I said. I picked up a potato and took my own knife out of my pocket and sat down to help her with the paring. She looked at me, and arched on eyebrow. I was unaccountably reminded of my mother-- though they could not have looked more different.

"Thank you for your help, Trotter."

We peeled potatoes in silence for a few minutes, broken only when she turned the sizzling sausages. Soon we had finished the paring, and she set to chopping them up with an onion, at one end of the table. It was too high for me to reach easily, so I took up a fork and took the sausages off the fire and placed them on a large plate she had nearby.

"Thorn is a sweet child," I said, by way of conversation.

"Thorn?" she smiled. "So he is. We are all very proud of him. I just hope he will have both a mother and a healthy brother or sister when this is all over."

"Thorn's other grandmother seemed very distraught." I was curious, I confess.

Lady Meldis nodded. "Norniveth lost her own mother and baby brother many years ago, when a surgeon interfered with the difficult birth. He tried to deliver the child by cutting it free of the womb. It was a sad and messy business, and left her terrified of surgeons. I must say, the one who left here a couple of days ago seemed very competent and kind, although all he did while he was here was remove a wen, take care of an ingrown toenail, and pull a couple of teeth."

"I am not much familiar with surgeons," I said. "Surgery is not much practiced in the Shire so far as I know. Barbers generally take care of teeth and toenails there. Healers stitch up wounds or take off limbs damaged in accidents. But I cannot imagine one interfering with the delivery of a child by cutting." I shuddered. It sounded dreadful.

"I do not think that a surgeon will be needed now that Lord Elrohir is here. He is a skilled healer among his people; he was taught by his father, who is a great healer indeed." She said no more, and I could tell that she did not wish to speak of it any longer.

I turned my attention to the food, which by now was nearly ready, the potatoes and onions browning in the same skillet in which the sausages had been cooked. It was clear that Lady Meldis was a very good cook.

Soon all of us were seated about the large table, and enjoying the sausages and potatoes, along with bread that had been baked the day before, and had been toasted. There was beer in a pitcher, and water as well.

I tried to make a bit of conversation about the food, but Big Folk seem to find that topic hard to sustain. We were all tired and quiet. We could still hear the occasional moans of the birthing mother.

After we finished eating, I assisted in washing up. Then I went outside for a smoke and a sniff of air. It looked to be a long night.

It was nearly midnight, when I dozed off, curled up on the floor by the hearth. All of the others were wakeful and anxious as the hours dragged by.

It was dawn when I was wakened: by the cry of a newborn child! I sat up, wondering how the mother fared.

The door to the chamber opened, and Elrohir stepped out. Arador leapt to his feet.

"You have a daughter," Elrohir said. "Your wife is exhausted, but fine."





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