Authors Note: I'm sorry that its such a short chapter, the next ones should be longer.
Mojo the Rock Chick Munchkin: Thanks for your three-in-a-row review! 33 is actually the coming of age for a hobbit, I forgot it when I called Pip a 'grown hobbit'. Thanks for your support!
Boromirlover: No, I didn't mean next Thursday! I forget that if some people are not from England then it may be a different day than it is over here. Thanks for your support also!
41 reviews, that's the most I've ever received! I got 30 once, but I was made to delete the fic (but that's another story.).
I don't think I have any more comments on this chapter, as it is pretty short. Only to point out that I am no expert in illnesses, so I hope that I got his symptoms approximately right!
LOTR is not mine!
*-*
Chapter Seven - Awake
Pippin felt as though he was in a dream. He did not feel cold nor hot, but weary and somewhat, he searched for the word, different. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was hazy and jumbled. He could dimly hear voices. Merry's voice. He lost consciousness again, and slipped back into a sleep world, unable to separate fact from fiction, vision from reality. He could hear people talking, but it felt as if they were a great distance away, out of his reach. He felt someone take hold of his hand, then more voices. He tried to listen, he wanted to be closer to the sound, but he could not get there. Slowly he felt a coldness seep through his body. He fought for breath. The very air he breathed was choking him. He felt water on his forehead. He couldn't breath; he was going to...
Pippin's eyes shot open.
"Merry," he whispered hoarsely, his throat dry and parched.
Merry's eyes widened as he saw Pippin wake.
"Pippin! You're awake!" he choked, scrambling onto his knees and grasping Pippins hand harder.
The light of the sun hurt Pippin's head, and he half shut his eyes, wanting the darkness of sleep to overcome him again.
"My head," Pippin whispered.
He began to recognize a dull throbbing in his head, growing ever louder and more painful. His throat was dry and it hurt him to swallow or to talk. His body felt as if it were filled with lead, his legs and arms where heavy and aching, and he could feel a sharp, burning pain under his shoulder. Pippin heard footfalls, and then the voice of Aragorn, sounding calm yet with an edge of worry that he was unable to conceal. He shifted his position slightly so as to see him properly, and winced as his chest seared with pain. He felt a light touch on his arm.
"Try to stay still Pippin. You must let your wound heal."
Pippin moved his parched lips.
"Water," he said faintly. He could feel the throbbing in his head almost overcome him.
A moment later something was put to his mouth, and he felt drops of cool, wet water slip down his throat.
"Pippin. It's me, Merry. You're going to be fine Pippin, please hold on." Pippin could hear Merry's voice, and then felt a tight grip on his hand. Pippin squeezed back, grateful to have something to hold and comfort him. Then, his eyes shut, and he gave into the weakness of sleep.
Merrys eyes dropped to the ground and his hand flopped to his side.
"Why is he in such pain? I did not know his injuries were so bad," Frodo said, seeing the sadness in Merry's face.
"It is possible he has got slight poisoning from the orcs sword. It did not go deep, which I am thankful for, but it will make him very weak. We must make sure he has enough to drink," Aragorn answered.
"I see," Frodo answered. "What else can we do for him?"
"There is nothing else we can do. It is not our battle to fight, it is Pippin's."
*-*
Mojo the Rock Chick Munchkin: Thanks for your three-in-a-row review! 33 is actually the coming of age for a hobbit, I forgot it when I called Pip a 'grown hobbit'. Thanks for your support!
Boromirlover: No, I didn't mean next Thursday! I forget that if some people are not from England then it may be a different day than it is over here. Thanks for your support also!
41 reviews, that's the most I've ever received! I got 30 once, but I was made to delete the fic (but that's another story.).
I don't think I have any more comments on this chapter, as it is pretty short. Only to point out that I am no expert in illnesses, so I hope that I got his symptoms approximately right!
LOTR is not mine!
*-*
Chapter Seven - Awake
Pippin felt as though he was in a dream. He did not feel cold nor hot, but weary and somewhat, he searched for the word, different. His eyelids were heavy and his mind was hazy and jumbled. He could dimly hear voices. Merry's voice. He lost consciousness again, and slipped back into a sleep world, unable to separate fact from fiction, vision from reality. He could hear people talking, but it felt as if they were a great distance away, out of his reach. He felt someone take hold of his hand, then more voices. He tried to listen, he wanted to be closer to the sound, but he could not get there. Slowly he felt a coldness seep through his body. He fought for breath. The very air he breathed was choking him. He felt water on his forehead. He couldn't breath; he was going to...
Pippin's eyes shot open.
"Merry," he whispered hoarsely, his throat dry and parched.
Merry's eyes widened as he saw Pippin wake.
"Pippin! You're awake!" he choked, scrambling onto his knees and grasping Pippins hand harder.
The light of the sun hurt Pippin's head, and he half shut his eyes, wanting the darkness of sleep to overcome him again.
"My head," Pippin whispered.
He began to recognize a dull throbbing in his head, growing ever louder and more painful. His throat was dry and it hurt him to swallow or to talk. His body felt as if it were filled with lead, his legs and arms where heavy and aching, and he could feel a sharp, burning pain under his shoulder. Pippin heard footfalls, and then the voice of Aragorn, sounding calm yet with an edge of worry that he was unable to conceal. He shifted his position slightly so as to see him properly, and winced as his chest seared with pain. He felt a light touch on his arm.
"Try to stay still Pippin. You must let your wound heal."
Pippin moved his parched lips.
"Water," he said faintly. He could feel the throbbing in his head almost overcome him.
A moment later something was put to his mouth, and he felt drops of cool, wet water slip down his throat.
"Pippin. It's me, Merry. You're going to be fine Pippin, please hold on." Pippin could hear Merry's voice, and then felt a tight grip on his hand. Pippin squeezed back, grateful to have something to hold and comfort him. Then, his eyes shut, and he gave into the weakness of sleep.
Merrys eyes dropped to the ground and his hand flopped to his side.
"Why is he in such pain? I did not know his injuries were so bad," Frodo said, seeing the sadness in Merry's face.
"It is possible he has got slight poisoning from the orcs sword. It did not go deep, which I am thankful for, but it will make him very weak. We must make sure he has enough to drink," Aragorn answered.
"I see," Frodo answered. "What else can we do for him?"
"There is nothing else we can do. It is not our battle to fight, it is Pippin's."
*-*