Notes:
~VI~: I'm going to hold you to that promise, you know (of more wordy
reviews, grin). Glad you're enjoying the story. The angst is going to get
pretty heavy, I'm afraid. People who've read the "sister story" FireStorm
will understand why. Also, I'm glad the summary cracked you up. I honestly
could not think of a single thing to write in the summary... and yes, the
Thain is sick. In my private bio, I have afflicted the poor lad with bad
lungs since chapter (25?) of Jewels, where he comes down with a bad case of
pneumonia. He continues bravely, in spite of bad lungs, right up until his
miraculous healing in Rope (and i forget what chapter *that* was, we're way
past that now, in Rope I mean). So anything of mine that you read, where
Pippin is steward of Buckland, and all of his early years as Thain
(FireStorm, Sparks, Down and Out, and the first part of Rope) will reflect
his bad lungs. He doesn't let them get in his way, though, like a few other
people I know IRL who face physical challenges.
Jo: Nice to see you here! Yes, for those who missed the time clue, think on the picnic by the pool with the Thain's family, which took place the day before the wildfire broke out. Pippin says something about what fussbudgets people are, "every cough pneumonia and every sneeze a death knell" and Diamond thinks privately how worrisome the heavy cold of the previous month had been to her. Sparks just goes into a bit more detail of that cold.
Dana: Yes, I loved that bit. I wonder if he even noticed his tea was too sweet?
LadyJea: Thanks for letting me know about that literary term. "Dynamic". O, I feel so much more educated this day... LOL Much more fun than going back to college!
FantasyFan: Ah, so you are new! Glad you joined in. Excellent insight into the changing/growing of Pippin's character, you hit the nail on the head. It can be disorienting to go back and read "Going, Going, Gone" after reading about "older Pippin"... he seems almost out of character, until you remember he's... what?... 20 years or so younger in "Going". People change over time, why not literary characters as well.
Xena: Always nice to see one of your reviews. Yes, it is nice that Pippin doesn't let his social status go to his head (I'm thinking of his visit with the poor old gaffer in FireStorm), but in this case, he is not really slumming to take tea with Mardibold. This healer Took is really rather highly placed in the Took family, but chooses not to live in the Smials because he's tired of pretension and social-climbing relatives. Wanted to make something of his life. You'll see in a future chapter, he has enough status to sit at the head table with the Thain. Considering what a snob Regi is (been brought up to be one, poor dear), it is only fitting that Regi would court Mardi's daughter.
My goodness, if I don't watch out the comments will be longer than the chapter! BTW, just to let you know, I will try to be updating in three stories daily (or at least every other day) this week: At the End of His Rope; Going, Going, Gone; and Striking Sparks. Just in case you don't get author updates, same boat I'm riding in. I have written way ahead in "Sparks" (chapter 10 is written, not proofed); "Going" is actually finished, I wrote it back in February, all 12 chapters; and "Rope" is outlined and writing itself fairly well at the rate of a chapter a day. So if all goes well, you should be able to feed your habit. (and mine. reviews, that is. black gold. what's the next line in the beverly hillbillies' song after "black gold"?)
***
Chapter 4. Healers' Consultation
'We'll have to trim off this flap of skin,' Mardi told his daughter. 'It'll die and dry up, anyhow, so we might as well get it out of the way now.' He suited words to action, with a sharp, 'Hold him still!' to the helpers at one point. 'We pull the two edges of the wound together, so... Now for the stitching...'
Rosamunda held out the needle, already threaded. Mardibold looked at her thoughtfully. 'I think we'll let you do the stitchery,' he said.
She looked at him, eyes questioning, but knew better than to express doubt in front of a patient. 'Yes, Father,' was all she said. Mardi added his firm grasp to the farmer's arm. 'Hold as still as you can, Tom,' he said.
'O aye,' the other gasped, beads of sweat on his pale brow, but he made no further sound as the needle bit and the stitches were set.
'There,' Rosa said involuntarily as she tied the last stitch and cut the thread. Everyone sighed with relief.
'Off to bed with you now, Tom,' Mardi said, and to the farmer's wife he added, 'I want you to get him to drink as much water as you can get him to take. He bled overmuch, to my thinking.' To the farmer again, he said, 'You'll feel sick and shaky for a day or two, and it'll hurt like blazes. Don't be putting your hand through any more windows, now.'
'I'll keep it in mind,' the farmer said. 'Thanks, Healer Mardibold. What do I owe you?'
'A silver penny, if you have it. Two chickens'll do, if you haven't,' Mardi answered.
'Young Tom,' said the farmer to his eldest, who was helping him to the bed, 'go and fetch two of the fattest hens.' He looked up at Mardi. 'You want 'em live, or dressed?'
'Might as well dress them,' Mardi said. 'A dinner of roasted chicken would go well, I think.'
Young Tom nodded as he left the room. There was time for a cup of tea with the farmer's wife while they waited, and then, wrapped-up chickens in hand, Mardi and Rosa set off back to Tuckborough.
'Papa,' she said, as they walked the dusty road. 'Why do they say Pippin's not fit to be Thain?'
'Who says that?' Mardi asked slowly, though he had a good idea. Of an evening, down at the Spotted Duck, talk ran high when the mugs ran low.
'People,' she said.
'...and don't call him Pippin, girl, it's not respectful,' he added.
'Regi calls him that.'
'Regi's his steward. Not many may call him "Pip", as when he were just a young lad, a farmer's son making mischief about Tuckborough. You call him "Thain Peregrin" and you won't go wrong.' He was silent for a few steps, then stopped. What he had to say was better said while they were still surrounded by fields, no hobbits in sight at the moment, before they got back to the town.
'Saying he's "not fit" means a lot of different things to different people, lass,' he said. 'Some talk about how he's been off to foreign parts, corrupted by outlanders. Men are not to be trusted; remember how our folk used to hide from them, in the tales told of time long agone? Even now the King's issued an edict to keep Men out of the Shire. And dwarves are greedy and grasping, and elves... well, they're so far beyond us that most folk are a bit afraid of them, if they even see them at all. And wizards, now... 'tis said that all they bring is trouble.'
'Are there any wizards left in Middle-earth?' she asked.
Her father scratched his head. 'Well, now,' he said, 'I dunno. There might be. I only heard of Saruman blowing away in a puff of dust, and Gandalf sailing off with the elves. There might have been more, but I haven't heard tell of any being seen in Tookland.'
'But he's done only good for the people,' she protested. ' "Corrupted"... that means ruined, doesn't it? Spoilt?'
'Aye, lass. And some say he's been spoilt, and mean it entirely different. Raised an only son amongst a flock of girls, petted and given his own way... he was a willful child, and Paladin had no idea how to manage him.'
'Regi said Paladin was harsh.'
'He were, child. He spoilt and raged by turns, near ruint the lad before Master of Buckland stepped in and took him off, like a farmer picking up a stray pup.'
'And that's another reason he's unfit,' Rosamunda said. '...because he's lived so much in Buckland and not in Tookland.'
'You have the right of it, daughter.'
'Is Buckland so different then?' Rosa asked. She had never been more than ten miles from Tuckborough in her life.
'To hear the Tooks talk, you would think so,' Mardibold said. He'd travelled all the way to Michel Delving once, never to Buckland, he had to admit. 'But hobbits are hobbits wherever you go. I'd think there's not much difference.' He sighed. 'But there's another way of being "unfit",' he added.
'And what is that?'
'The Thain is not well, lass,' he said, trusting her healer's training to interpret his words. 'He had a bad bout with the Old Gaffer's Friend a few years back, and it near to tore out his lungs.' He held her gaze. 'Have you never noticed how he takes only half breaths?'
'No,' she said slowly, 'but...'
'It'll come in time. You're still learning,' he said. 'When you've been a healer as long as I have, you'll notice such things without even thinking.' He was silent. 'He has to take care,' he continued at last. 'Dust, smoke, a simple cold... and Tookland would be confirming Reginard as Thain.' He wanted to ask her how she'd feel about being married to the Thain, but as Regi had not yet spoken, he held his tongue.
'But he's a good Thain,' Rosamunda said stubbornly. 'Anybody with eyes can see that. He's done much good in just a few short months...'
'Aye, lass, and anytime you hear different, you make sure to correct the speaker,' her father said. 'Come now, these chickens won't roast themselves. Let's take ourselves off home.' They recommenced walking along the dusty road.
Jo: Nice to see you here! Yes, for those who missed the time clue, think on the picnic by the pool with the Thain's family, which took place the day before the wildfire broke out. Pippin says something about what fussbudgets people are, "every cough pneumonia and every sneeze a death knell" and Diamond thinks privately how worrisome the heavy cold of the previous month had been to her. Sparks just goes into a bit more detail of that cold.
Dana: Yes, I loved that bit. I wonder if he even noticed his tea was too sweet?
LadyJea: Thanks for letting me know about that literary term. "Dynamic". O, I feel so much more educated this day... LOL Much more fun than going back to college!
FantasyFan: Ah, so you are new! Glad you joined in. Excellent insight into the changing/growing of Pippin's character, you hit the nail on the head. It can be disorienting to go back and read "Going, Going, Gone" after reading about "older Pippin"... he seems almost out of character, until you remember he's... what?... 20 years or so younger in "Going". People change over time, why not literary characters as well.
Xena: Always nice to see one of your reviews. Yes, it is nice that Pippin doesn't let his social status go to his head (I'm thinking of his visit with the poor old gaffer in FireStorm), but in this case, he is not really slumming to take tea with Mardibold. This healer Took is really rather highly placed in the Took family, but chooses not to live in the Smials because he's tired of pretension and social-climbing relatives. Wanted to make something of his life. You'll see in a future chapter, he has enough status to sit at the head table with the Thain. Considering what a snob Regi is (been brought up to be one, poor dear), it is only fitting that Regi would court Mardi's daughter.
My goodness, if I don't watch out the comments will be longer than the chapter! BTW, just to let you know, I will try to be updating in three stories daily (or at least every other day) this week: At the End of His Rope; Going, Going, Gone; and Striking Sparks. Just in case you don't get author updates, same boat I'm riding in. I have written way ahead in "Sparks" (chapter 10 is written, not proofed); "Going" is actually finished, I wrote it back in February, all 12 chapters; and "Rope" is outlined and writing itself fairly well at the rate of a chapter a day. So if all goes well, you should be able to feed your habit. (and mine. reviews, that is. black gold. what's the next line in the beverly hillbillies' song after "black gold"?)
***
Chapter 4. Healers' Consultation
'We'll have to trim off this flap of skin,' Mardi told his daughter. 'It'll die and dry up, anyhow, so we might as well get it out of the way now.' He suited words to action, with a sharp, 'Hold him still!' to the helpers at one point. 'We pull the two edges of the wound together, so... Now for the stitching...'
Rosamunda held out the needle, already threaded. Mardibold looked at her thoughtfully. 'I think we'll let you do the stitchery,' he said.
She looked at him, eyes questioning, but knew better than to express doubt in front of a patient. 'Yes, Father,' was all she said. Mardi added his firm grasp to the farmer's arm. 'Hold as still as you can, Tom,' he said.
'O aye,' the other gasped, beads of sweat on his pale brow, but he made no further sound as the needle bit and the stitches were set.
'There,' Rosa said involuntarily as she tied the last stitch and cut the thread. Everyone sighed with relief.
'Off to bed with you now, Tom,' Mardi said, and to the farmer's wife he added, 'I want you to get him to drink as much water as you can get him to take. He bled overmuch, to my thinking.' To the farmer again, he said, 'You'll feel sick and shaky for a day or two, and it'll hurt like blazes. Don't be putting your hand through any more windows, now.'
'I'll keep it in mind,' the farmer said. 'Thanks, Healer Mardibold. What do I owe you?'
'A silver penny, if you have it. Two chickens'll do, if you haven't,' Mardi answered.
'Young Tom,' said the farmer to his eldest, who was helping him to the bed, 'go and fetch two of the fattest hens.' He looked up at Mardi. 'You want 'em live, or dressed?'
'Might as well dress them,' Mardi said. 'A dinner of roasted chicken would go well, I think.'
Young Tom nodded as he left the room. There was time for a cup of tea with the farmer's wife while they waited, and then, wrapped-up chickens in hand, Mardi and Rosa set off back to Tuckborough.
'Papa,' she said, as they walked the dusty road. 'Why do they say Pippin's not fit to be Thain?'
'Who says that?' Mardi asked slowly, though he had a good idea. Of an evening, down at the Spotted Duck, talk ran high when the mugs ran low.
'People,' she said.
'...and don't call him Pippin, girl, it's not respectful,' he added.
'Regi calls him that.'
'Regi's his steward. Not many may call him "Pip", as when he were just a young lad, a farmer's son making mischief about Tuckborough. You call him "Thain Peregrin" and you won't go wrong.' He was silent for a few steps, then stopped. What he had to say was better said while they were still surrounded by fields, no hobbits in sight at the moment, before they got back to the town.
'Saying he's "not fit" means a lot of different things to different people, lass,' he said. 'Some talk about how he's been off to foreign parts, corrupted by outlanders. Men are not to be trusted; remember how our folk used to hide from them, in the tales told of time long agone? Even now the King's issued an edict to keep Men out of the Shire. And dwarves are greedy and grasping, and elves... well, they're so far beyond us that most folk are a bit afraid of them, if they even see them at all. And wizards, now... 'tis said that all they bring is trouble.'
'Are there any wizards left in Middle-earth?' she asked.
Her father scratched his head. 'Well, now,' he said, 'I dunno. There might be. I only heard of Saruman blowing away in a puff of dust, and Gandalf sailing off with the elves. There might have been more, but I haven't heard tell of any being seen in Tookland.'
'But he's done only good for the people,' she protested. ' "Corrupted"... that means ruined, doesn't it? Spoilt?'
'Aye, lass. And some say he's been spoilt, and mean it entirely different. Raised an only son amongst a flock of girls, petted and given his own way... he was a willful child, and Paladin had no idea how to manage him.'
'Regi said Paladin was harsh.'
'He were, child. He spoilt and raged by turns, near ruint the lad before Master of Buckland stepped in and took him off, like a farmer picking up a stray pup.'
'And that's another reason he's unfit,' Rosamunda said. '...because he's lived so much in Buckland and not in Tookland.'
'You have the right of it, daughter.'
'Is Buckland so different then?' Rosa asked. She had never been more than ten miles from Tuckborough in her life.
'To hear the Tooks talk, you would think so,' Mardibold said. He'd travelled all the way to Michel Delving once, never to Buckland, he had to admit. 'But hobbits are hobbits wherever you go. I'd think there's not much difference.' He sighed. 'But there's another way of being "unfit",' he added.
'And what is that?'
'The Thain is not well, lass,' he said, trusting her healer's training to interpret his words. 'He had a bad bout with the Old Gaffer's Friend a few years back, and it near to tore out his lungs.' He held her gaze. 'Have you never noticed how he takes only half breaths?'
'No,' she said slowly, 'but...'
'It'll come in time. You're still learning,' he said. 'When you've been a healer as long as I have, you'll notice such things without even thinking.' He was silent. 'He has to take care,' he continued at last. 'Dust, smoke, a simple cold... and Tookland would be confirming Reginard as Thain.' He wanted to ask her how she'd feel about being married to the Thain, but as Regi had not yet spoken, he held his tongue.
'But he's a good Thain,' Rosamunda said stubbornly. 'Anybody with eyes can see that. He's done much good in just a few short months...'
'Aye, lass, and anytime you hear different, you make sure to correct the speaker,' her father said. 'Come now, these chickens won't roast themselves. Let's take ourselves off home.' They recommenced walking along the dusty road.