Author's note : Updates are not frequent as I am in the process of writing my book and have told myself I need to write at least 2000 words of that / day. Seeing as how you all enjoyed Interlude, I decided to take the idea of Merilas and write a novel not set in Lord Of The Rings.
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CHAPTER FOUR ---- The will to be brave.
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At first everything seemed to be going well. The tea had managed to calm down the scratchy feeling in my throat though it was still difficult to swallow. Pippin had calmed down and was resting peacefully against me. The fire was beginning to warm up the small cave and I was starting to feel dry again.
I relaxed just a little, leaning against my pack. I didn't move if I could help it, and kept one arm around my cousin so that he did not shift about either as he had a tendency to do. If I didn't move, my side didn't hurt. I bit my lip a little, I wasn't really tired anymore, and I didn't like sleeping at any rate.
I looked over at the fireplace and stared at the flames, wondering…wondering what things would be like if Gandalf had survived Moria. I knew that I shouldn't really be dwelling on it, but it kept replaying in my mind. He sacrificed everything for me. He was a great wizard…and evil had defeated him. What chance did -I- have? Especially when I could be brought down so easily by -water-.
I sighed, I was beginning to sound like a pessimist. I suppose I had always been a bit of one throughout my life, though I tried to look on the bright side of things. Everything could have gone much worse, I supposed. At least we were alive…for now, anyway. Aragorn said the others had not been swept away by the flood. Not surprising since only me and Pippin had been lagging behind.
The weight of the Ring was heavy on my mind as I gazed at the crackling fire as the flames licked towards the ceiling. Shadows danced on the walls of the caves in formless flickers. Pippin stirred.
"Frodo…" he murmured against my chest. "My head hurts…"
I identified with that, for mine was pounding. I arranged myself as best I could so that I could give Pippin something to drink. "Here Pip…" I said encouragingly, "Its good tea…not really very warm anymore…but it will help."
"Not thirsty." Pippin shook his head, "I don't want anyway. Frodo…I'm cold…"
So was I…I suddenly realized…I knew I was coming down with some kind of fever as well…would it never end? I reached up to feel Pippin's forehead while his lips quivered and his body shook. Then I realized that he wasn't cold because of his body…I could see my breath as and it nearly caught in my lungs. I gave a cry.
One of the Nazghul was standing at the mouth of the cave. Pippin looked over…but he couldn't see anything. My hand reached for Sting….I could hear the black speech of mordor echoing about the cave as the shadows formed into the enemy. I closed my eyes…my heart thumping…sometimes I had nightmares…I was still in control…maybe it was the fever. I opened them after I heard Pippin call my name. "Frodo…Frodo…"
The Nazghul was gone…as were the voices and I felt a strange burning sensation at the back of my neck where the chain that held the ring rubbed. I felt back there, but everything seemed okay. I began to breathe normally again and I looked wildly at Pippin. "Did you see it?…" I clutched him. "Did you?" My expression must have been quite desperate for his eyes widened in fear.
Confused, my cousin whimpered and I realized I was holding him a little too tightly. Tight enough infact that it might leave bruises. I immediately released him and he pulled away from me…trying to sit on his own, his knees bent, and his arms wrapped around them instead of me. I must have frightened him…and I immediately regretted it. I felt a little dizzy…and tried to steady myself against my pack. I wasn't feeling at all well.
I felt my forehead…it was dripping with sweat…and my hair was damp against it. Not from rain…but from sweat. I was hot…and my hand began to shake. I clutched it into a fist and looked at Pippin. "Pip…Pippin listen to me…" I tried to speak in a calmer voice. "Pippin…I know you're hurt too…but I need you…now more than ever. I've got a fever… and my throat…its killing me…you have to get some water…Pippin…are you listening to me?" I knew my voice sounded harsh and hoarse…but I had to get through to him.
Pippin slowly looked up through a haze of frightened tears. He nodded wordlessly and uncurled just a little. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Take that water…in the bowl there…and a cloth…" I leaned back. Pippin ventured back over, for the blanket was near me after all.
He used what strength that he did have to pull the blanket around the both of us, and take a cloth that Aragorn had been using. He then began to bathe my forehead with the cool water in the bowl, and letting a few drops trickle down my throat…easing it so that I would not cough. He put the cloth to my forehead..and my cheeks and neck…and was just about to move the cloth underneath the chain when my hand snaked out and clutched his wrist. "Don't…don't touch that…Don't -ever- touch that." Pippin's eyes went wide once again and he simply nodded. He took a deep breath and continued to dab the cool cloth against me. I closed my eyes. It wasn't that I was feeling better. It was just easier to deal with the pain with my eyes closed. 'That's enough now…Pippin…I'm cold too…just…rest with me until Aragorn comes back. We'll keep each other warm. Don't leave me Pip…don't…."
And he nodded, finally speaking. "I won't leave you Frodo."
And we curled up under the blanket by the fire, my head was throbbing with pain…and my side ached. My tongue was dry despite drinking a bit more of the tea, and I tried as best I could to avoid coughing for I remembered Aragorn's words.
I realized something before I blacked out…this was the first time I'd ever been around Pippin when he wasn't asking a million questions or generally trying to get us all in trouble with his tongue. I was developing a sense of respect for him. Merry was right, Peregrin Took was a good friend to have along on a journey where you needed them. I was glad he was there.
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CHAPTER FOUR ---- The will to be brave.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At first everything seemed to be going well. The tea had managed to calm down the scratchy feeling in my throat though it was still difficult to swallow. Pippin had calmed down and was resting peacefully against me. The fire was beginning to warm up the small cave and I was starting to feel dry again.
I relaxed just a little, leaning against my pack. I didn't move if I could help it, and kept one arm around my cousin so that he did not shift about either as he had a tendency to do. If I didn't move, my side didn't hurt. I bit my lip a little, I wasn't really tired anymore, and I didn't like sleeping at any rate.
I looked over at the fireplace and stared at the flames, wondering…wondering what things would be like if Gandalf had survived Moria. I knew that I shouldn't really be dwelling on it, but it kept replaying in my mind. He sacrificed everything for me. He was a great wizard…and evil had defeated him. What chance did -I- have? Especially when I could be brought down so easily by -water-.
I sighed, I was beginning to sound like a pessimist. I suppose I had always been a bit of one throughout my life, though I tried to look on the bright side of things. Everything could have gone much worse, I supposed. At least we were alive…for now, anyway. Aragorn said the others had not been swept away by the flood. Not surprising since only me and Pippin had been lagging behind.
The weight of the Ring was heavy on my mind as I gazed at the crackling fire as the flames licked towards the ceiling. Shadows danced on the walls of the caves in formless flickers. Pippin stirred.
"Frodo…" he murmured against my chest. "My head hurts…"
I identified with that, for mine was pounding. I arranged myself as best I could so that I could give Pippin something to drink. "Here Pip…" I said encouragingly, "Its good tea…not really very warm anymore…but it will help."
"Not thirsty." Pippin shook his head, "I don't want anyway. Frodo…I'm cold…"
So was I…I suddenly realized…I knew I was coming down with some kind of fever as well…would it never end? I reached up to feel Pippin's forehead while his lips quivered and his body shook. Then I realized that he wasn't cold because of his body…I could see my breath as and it nearly caught in my lungs. I gave a cry.
One of the Nazghul was standing at the mouth of the cave. Pippin looked over…but he couldn't see anything. My hand reached for Sting….I could hear the black speech of mordor echoing about the cave as the shadows formed into the enemy. I closed my eyes…my heart thumping…sometimes I had nightmares…I was still in control…maybe it was the fever. I opened them after I heard Pippin call my name. "Frodo…Frodo…"
The Nazghul was gone…as were the voices and I felt a strange burning sensation at the back of my neck where the chain that held the ring rubbed. I felt back there, but everything seemed okay. I began to breathe normally again and I looked wildly at Pippin. "Did you see it?…" I clutched him. "Did you?" My expression must have been quite desperate for his eyes widened in fear.
Confused, my cousin whimpered and I realized I was holding him a little too tightly. Tight enough infact that it might leave bruises. I immediately released him and he pulled away from me…trying to sit on his own, his knees bent, and his arms wrapped around them instead of me. I must have frightened him…and I immediately regretted it. I felt a little dizzy…and tried to steady myself against my pack. I wasn't feeling at all well.
I felt my forehead…it was dripping with sweat…and my hair was damp against it. Not from rain…but from sweat. I was hot…and my hand began to shake. I clutched it into a fist and looked at Pippin. "Pip…Pippin listen to me…" I tried to speak in a calmer voice. "Pippin…I know you're hurt too…but I need you…now more than ever. I've got a fever… and my throat…its killing me…you have to get some water…Pippin…are you listening to me?" I knew my voice sounded harsh and hoarse…but I had to get through to him.
Pippin slowly looked up through a haze of frightened tears. He nodded wordlessly and uncurled just a little. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Take that water…in the bowl there…and a cloth…" I leaned back. Pippin ventured back over, for the blanket was near me after all.
He used what strength that he did have to pull the blanket around the both of us, and take a cloth that Aragorn had been using. He then began to bathe my forehead with the cool water in the bowl, and letting a few drops trickle down my throat…easing it so that I would not cough. He put the cloth to my forehead..and my cheeks and neck…and was just about to move the cloth underneath the chain when my hand snaked out and clutched his wrist. "Don't…don't touch that…Don't -ever- touch that." Pippin's eyes went wide once again and he simply nodded. He took a deep breath and continued to dab the cool cloth against me. I closed my eyes. It wasn't that I was feeling better. It was just easier to deal with the pain with my eyes closed. 'That's enough now…Pippin…I'm cold too…just…rest with me until Aragorn comes back. We'll keep each other warm. Don't leave me Pip…don't…."
And he nodded, finally speaking. "I won't leave you Frodo."
And we curled up under the blanket by the fire, my head was throbbing with pain…and my side ached. My tongue was dry despite drinking a bit more of the tea, and I tried as best I could to avoid coughing for I remembered Aragorn's words.
I realized something before I blacked out…this was the first time I'd ever been around Pippin when he wasn't asking a million questions or generally trying to get us all in trouble with his tongue. I was developing a sense of respect for him. Merry was right, Peregrin Took was a good friend to have along on a journey where you needed them. I was glad he was there.
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