A/N: Baxley, you're a sweet person! I would like to thank Baxley, Zebra Wallpaper, and Pearl Took for taking the time to read this story and also review it. I can't thank you enough for your kind words and encouragement.
The theme I wanted to come across in this story was the warmth and healing between Merry and his dad. It's not something that happens overnight (the span of time between MBD II and this story is ten years), though for some folks, they never recover from this sort of thing and stay bitter their whole life. Not so with my Merry; to me he's easy going, feels things in a deep way, yet not a bitter person. Enjoy...
Chapter Seven - It's My Fault
Merry and Frodo, with sleeves rolled up past their elbows, were hauling buckets of water to the wash room along with the three servants they could gather in such short time. Merry stopped just short of the door, put his buckets down and leaned against the wall.
"It's only a few more steps, Merry." Frodo offered.
"I'm not resting. I'm thinking."
Frodo's expression didn't agree.
"Frodo--this is all my fault."
That got his cousin's attention. Frodo put down his buckets as well. "You mean Pippin? Your fault? How?"
"My father instructed me this morning to look in on my aunt every so often to see if she would need some time for herself--you know."
"And?"
"I was so busy wanting to see my new quarters that I forgot. I failed in my duties and it's only my first day. My Dad and I both thought this task would be so simple." He looked at Frodo with sad eyes, "It didn't take long for me to foul this all up."
"Don't say that." Frodo replied. "Pippin was already feeling cold because he got up to get the blankets on his own, right?" Merry said nothing. "If you--or his mother--were sitting right there with him, regardless if you gave him a blanket or not, his fever was already climbing. The blankets only made it happen a bit faster."
"But I still feel responsible. They were my responsibility."
"That may be so, and you may feel responsible, my dear hobbit, but please don't beat yourself over it." He put his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Just learn from it." Merry still looked at Frodo, unsure of his words. Frodo gently shook Merry's shoulder, "He'll be fine!"
Merry bent down to pick up the heavy buckets. "I keep thinking about Pippin and the Goldworthy girl."
"Speaking of the Goldworthy child," Frodo opened the door before picking up his second bucket, "I think I might go along with Merimas after we're finished giving Pippin his bath and visit with her."
Later, after some fighting, a bit of thrashing, and yes...yelling, Pippin was finally done with his tepid bath. It took all three lads to get him into the tub and keep him there, and it might have taken more if he weren't so weak. Pippin almost got used to the temperature of the water towards the end--but not quite. They took off his nightshirt so he wouldn't catch another chill while getting out of the water, and Merry stood waiting with a large towel to wrap him in, and the blanket on top of that until he got back to his room.
Once they had the teen settled in back in bed and resting comfortably, Merry, Frodo, and Merimas all stood together in a semi-circle deciding what they were going to do to get into dry clothes.
Merimas smoothed his wet hair behind his head with his fingers, "My room isn't far from here. Why don't you lads come along and change into some of my clothes?"
"No, thank you, Merimas." Answered Merry. "I want to sit here with Pippin until Aunt Tina returns from the dining hall. And I think Frodo wanted to go with you to the Goldworthys anyway. He knows the mother."
"But your clothes are wet! You must change soon before you catch a chill yourself."
"I'll be all right."
Merimas let out a sigh knowing his friend would be obstinate in this, and he did have to get back to help Salinda. "If I get a chance, I will look in on you later."
"Thank you, Frodo. And thank you, Merimas for seeing to Pippin."
Merry almost didn't hear his aunt enter the room. He'd almost fallen asleep as Pippin did after he calmed down; though he calmed down mostly due to Mistress Salinda's elixir from the night before.
It had been over an hour since Merimas returned from leaving the Goldworthy's apartments. Little Salvia had died. Frodo stayed behind to give what little comfort he could to the girl's mother, Silvia.
Eglantine tiptoed past her nephew and lightly tousled his curls as she passed him by. "Your hair is damp."
"It will dry."
She paused before sitting down and patted Merry's shirt on his shoulder. "Your clothes are still damp as well. You should go and change into dry clothes."
"I will."
"Merry."
Even if he were fifty years old, Merry still wouldn't dare disobey that tone of voice from his aunt. Except now. "I cannot leave yet, Auntie."
"And when will "yet" arrive?"
"When I know that Pippin will be all right."
"I admire your love and loyalty, Merry, but Pippin will be fine while you go and change into dry clothes. You're always welcome to come back." Merry didn't stir. She looked at the clock on the wall. "It's half past seven; have you eaten supper?" Merry said nothing. "Merry, your cousin Merimas stopped to talk to me as I was returning here. We spoke for a while, and he told me about the little girl. I'm very sorry."
Merry continued to gaze at his sleeping cousin. "Frodo knows Mistress Silvia from when they were children. He's staying with the Goldworthys to help out."
"That's very kind of Mr. Frodo." She replied. She got up and went to the wardrobe, took out one of the blankets Pippin had grabbed earlier and put it over her nephew, saying, "You may as well be warm if you're going to be stubborn about it."
"Thank you, Auntie."
Eglantine could tell he was grief-stricken, but what could she do other than sit with him? He obviously wasn't going to talk about it. She couldn't tell if he was grieving; he certainly wasn't crying. But she knew her nephew; he was holding it all in. She'd seen him do it before...a long time ago as a little boy. She sat down in her chair on the other side of the bed watching her two charges.