Evil's Point
by Aniroaldawen
AN: Mae govannen, all! I know it's been forever and a day since I updated, and I apologize. Here, finally, is chapter 5 of Evil's Point. Thanks again to my reviewers! Enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 5
As the great wolf-creature leapt for Pippin's throat, he threw himself backwards and flung up his hands. The beast's jaws closed around Pippin's left wrist, and the hobbit screamed in pain as the bones were crushed. With a cry of fury, Merry, sword in hand once again, leapt forward and sliced the beast across the muzzle. Snarling, the creature let go of Pippin and turned its furious glare on Merry.
Merry, however, was faster than the wolf. He bent down and made a quick upward thrust at the beast's chest. The wolf howled in agony as the hobbit's blade sank in deep. Another stab by Merry and the wolf was silenced--Merry had cut his throat. In the throes of death, the beast gave the hobbits a last, murderous glare. It collapsed to the ground and was still.
"Pippin!" Merry dropped to the ground beside his friend, who was panting in pain and clutching his arm just under his wrist. Merry found himself fighting not to throw up as he looked at Pippin's bloodied and broken wrist. Pippin, however, was staring at the dead beast.
"L-look!"
As Merry and Pippin watched, astounded, a bright green light shone from the dead wolf's eyes. It grew brighter and brighter until the hobbits had to shield their eyes. When they looked back, the beast was gone.
"I knew that wasn't an ordinary wolf!" Merry exclaimed.
"Oh, I don't like this at all," Pippin mumbled. "It's too much like...too much like some minion of Sauron's..."
"Don't be silly, Pippin," Merry said. "He's gone, and all his evil works with him. But you're right...that's just too unnatural..."
Pippin nodded and attempted to get up, but fell back with a yelp. Frowning, he glared at his wrist. "Darn that beast!"
"Come on, Pip, we've got to get your wrist taken care of!" Merry said as he took Pippin's good arm and raised him to his feet. Pippin moaned in pain and swayed unsteadily.
"We'd better head back to the Brandybuck smials," Merry decided. "It's nearest." Slowly, so as not to cause Pippin any more pain, Merry headed back with Pippin to the smials.
Later that evening, a pony galloped down the lane to Bag End, breath steaming in the chilly evening air.
"Frodo! Sam!" Merry dismounted, leaving the pony at the gate, and flew up the Bag End garden path. He pulled frantically on the bell, then rapped on the door. "Sam! Frodo!"
A moment later, Frodo opened the door. "What--Merry? What's wrong?"
"Pippin's hurt!"
Frodo frowned. "Is he all right? What happened?"
"A wolf! This afternoon--I don't know what to do--he's passed out--we can't wake him!" Merry was so frantic he was almost in tears.
As Merry talked, Frodo darted to the closet and pulled out his Lothlorien cloak. Securing it around his shoulders, he ran down the hall to Sam and Rosie's room. "Sam! SAM!"
The door to the Gamgee's room opened, and Rosie appeared, looking annoyed. "Why are you making such a racket, Frodo? Sam's just about to get the baby to sleep!" she hissed in a whisper.
"I'm sorry to disturb her, Rosie, but something's happened to Pippin--he's hurt badly!"
Rosie's expression quickly changed to one of shock and dismay. "Oh my goodness! Just one second, I'll get him!" Rosie turned and darted into the adjoining room she and Sam were using as a nursery. A few moments later, Sam appeared with baby Elanor in his arms, looking worried.
"What's all this about Pippin, Frodo?" he asked. Before Frodo could answer, Merry interjected.
"Sam! Pippin's been bitten by some kind of wolf-creature! He's very ill--I don't know what to do!"
Sam gasped. "Oh no!" Turning, he passed Elanor to his wife, and with a quiet word and a kiss for both Elanor and Rosie, Sam was running to the hall closet. Pulling out his own elven-cloak, he threw it on and fastened it as the three hobbits ran out the door and down the path. It was quickly decided that Sam and Frodo would run and get their ponies from the town stables where they resided and meet back at the gate.
After a couple of minutes, Frodo and Sam, cloaks streaming behind them, rode back to Merry on their ponies, Strider and Bill. Merry then led the way, and within minutes they were crossing the Brandywine Bridge and flying up the path to the Brandybuck smial.
The hobbits left their ponies with some Brandybuck servants and hurried down the hall to the room where Pippin lay. As they came in sight of the door, they saw Missy Brandybuck, Merry's cousin, who had tears streaming down her face. Merry, Sam and Frodo felt chills run up their spines as they looked at Missy's grief-stricken face.
"Oh no. Oh no! What happened?" Merry demanded, white-faced.
Missy bowed her head.
"No...No! He can't be..."
"No, Merry, he's n-not dead...." sobbed Missy. "He's just awoken..."
Merry's mouth dropped open. "Well, why didn't you say so?!?" he demanded, pushing past Missy into the room. Frodo and Sam followed--and gasped at what they saw.
Dr. Flugedern and old Darcy Brandybuck were kneeling on either side of Pippin's bed, struggling to keep Pippin held down. The poor hobbit was thrashing about in the blankets. A smashed glass of water lay on the bedside table, and his right hand was cut and bloody. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth was hanging open, and his breath came in shallow gasps.
"Pippin!" Merry ran to his friend's side. As he did so, Pippin, with a huge burst of strength, tore out of Dr. Flugedern's and Darcy's grip, focused on Merry, lunged forward, and grabbed him by the collar.
"Merry...he's back...he's back..."
"Wha--Pippin! Calm down! It's all right, we're safe here..."
"No!" Pippin gasped. "Not safe...not here...not...anywhere..."
"Pip, what are you talking about?"
"Him...S-Sauron..."
At that name, Frodo jumped a foot off the ground, Sam nearly fell over, and Merry stared at Pippin, mouth agape.
"But--he's gone --you must be hallucinating, Pip, he can't be back!"
"No...no...he's--"
But what he was, Merry was going to have to wait to find out. Pippin's eyes rolled back into his head, his hand fell away from Merry's collar, and he collapsed backwards into the pillows.
Merry, stark white, looked around at Frodo and Sam, who also looked as if they'd just fallen face-first into bowls of flour.
"He can't be back," he insisted. "It's impossible!"
"That's right, Mr. Merry," Sam, though still looking like the end of the world had just happened, agreed. "Frodo destroyed the Ring, and he can't come back without the Ring..."
"He's gone, forever," Frodo murmured softly, absentmindedly stroking the stump of the third finger on his right hand.
"Pippin was just talking nonsense...delirious," Sam concluded.
At that moment Dr. Flugedern spoke up. "His fever's rising rapidly. We need to cool him down, quickly, before the fever causes brain damage."
"What must we do?" asked Frodo.
The doctor began barking out orders, and soon a bathtub was brought in and filled with tepid water which Pippin was placed into. After some minutes, it became apparent that this method of cooling Pippin down wasn't working-- in fact, the fever was still rising. Dr. Flugedern decided it was time for more drastic measures, and ordered ice to be brought in.
To everyone's relief, this seemed to cool Pippin down. His fever broke, and for a while his temperature was almost normal. Then, suddenly, Pippin began to sweat again, and his fever rose quickly to dangerous levels.
The doctor was at a loss. "It'll be too dangerous to do another icepack right now, so soon after the first one. The herbs we've given him aren't working, either. I don't know what else to try. We could wait and try another icepack later, but at the rate the fever's rising, I'm not sure he'll make it that long. I've never seen anything like this before--it's most unnatural for a fever to rise like this."
"You're giving up?!?" gasped Merry in horror. "You're quitting? You can't! He'll die!"
"I'm terribly sorry. It's just too risky." Dr. Flugedern bowed his head.
"There's got to be something we can do! We can't just let him die!" Merry cried.
All of a sudden, Sam, who had been sitting next to Pippin's bed contemplating the situation, spoke up. "Maybe there is something we can do! Remember who healed Frodo of the Morgul blade wound?"
"Of course--Elrond! He's a great healer--we can take Pippin to Rivendell!"
"Oh, no!" Dr. Flugedern exclaimed. "He's far too weak to travel. He'll die."
"He'll die anyway if we don't do something," Frodo quietly pointed out.
"We've got to!" Merry insisted. "I won't just let him die!"
The doctor sighed. "I still don't think it's wise...but I've done all I can do here. If you think this Elrond can do more, then I suppose you're welcome to try." He administered one more dose of herbs to Pippin to hopefully allow him to make it to Rivendell, packed up his instruments and took his leave, fearing that Pippin was already doomed.
Frodo, Sam and Merry conferred together, deciding the fastest they could be ready to travel and the quickest route to take to Rivendell. With that, Pippin's friends hurried to prepare for the journey that was their last hope for their dear friend.
Author's Note: Missy and Darcy are characters of my own invention and don't fit into the official Brandybuck family as laid out by Tolkien, as far as I know. Same goes for Dr. Flugedern, except that there was never a Flugedern family as created by Tolkien.
by Aniroaldawen
AN: Mae govannen, all! I know it's been forever and a day since I updated, and I apologize. Here, finally, is chapter 5 of Evil's Point. Thanks again to my reviewers! Enjoy this chapter!
Chapter 5
As the great wolf-creature leapt for Pippin's throat, he threw himself backwards and flung up his hands. The beast's jaws closed around Pippin's left wrist, and the hobbit screamed in pain as the bones were crushed. With a cry of fury, Merry, sword in hand once again, leapt forward and sliced the beast across the muzzle. Snarling, the creature let go of Pippin and turned its furious glare on Merry.
Merry, however, was faster than the wolf. He bent down and made a quick upward thrust at the beast's chest. The wolf howled in agony as the hobbit's blade sank in deep. Another stab by Merry and the wolf was silenced--Merry had cut his throat. In the throes of death, the beast gave the hobbits a last, murderous glare. It collapsed to the ground and was still.
"Pippin!" Merry dropped to the ground beside his friend, who was panting in pain and clutching his arm just under his wrist. Merry found himself fighting not to throw up as he looked at Pippin's bloodied and broken wrist. Pippin, however, was staring at the dead beast.
"L-look!"
As Merry and Pippin watched, astounded, a bright green light shone from the dead wolf's eyes. It grew brighter and brighter until the hobbits had to shield their eyes. When they looked back, the beast was gone.
"I knew that wasn't an ordinary wolf!" Merry exclaimed.
"Oh, I don't like this at all," Pippin mumbled. "It's too much like...too much like some minion of Sauron's..."
"Don't be silly, Pippin," Merry said. "He's gone, and all his evil works with him. But you're right...that's just too unnatural..."
Pippin nodded and attempted to get up, but fell back with a yelp. Frowning, he glared at his wrist. "Darn that beast!"
"Come on, Pip, we've got to get your wrist taken care of!" Merry said as he took Pippin's good arm and raised him to his feet. Pippin moaned in pain and swayed unsteadily.
"We'd better head back to the Brandybuck smials," Merry decided. "It's nearest." Slowly, so as not to cause Pippin any more pain, Merry headed back with Pippin to the smials.
Later that evening, a pony galloped down the lane to Bag End, breath steaming in the chilly evening air.
"Frodo! Sam!" Merry dismounted, leaving the pony at the gate, and flew up the Bag End garden path. He pulled frantically on the bell, then rapped on the door. "Sam! Frodo!"
A moment later, Frodo opened the door. "What--Merry? What's wrong?"
"Pippin's hurt!"
Frodo frowned. "Is he all right? What happened?"
"A wolf! This afternoon--I don't know what to do--he's passed out--we can't wake him!" Merry was so frantic he was almost in tears.
As Merry talked, Frodo darted to the closet and pulled out his Lothlorien cloak. Securing it around his shoulders, he ran down the hall to Sam and Rosie's room. "Sam! SAM!"
The door to the Gamgee's room opened, and Rosie appeared, looking annoyed. "Why are you making such a racket, Frodo? Sam's just about to get the baby to sleep!" she hissed in a whisper.
"I'm sorry to disturb her, Rosie, but something's happened to Pippin--he's hurt badly!"
Rosie's expression quickly changed to one of shock and dismay. "Oh my goodness! Just one second, I'll get him!" Rosie turned and darted into the adjoining room she and Sam were using as a nursery. A few moments later, Sam appeared with baby Elanor in his arms, looking worried.
"What's all this about Pippin, Frodo?" he asked. Before Frodo could answer, Merry interjected.
"Sam! Pippin's been bitten by some kind of wolf-creature! He's very ill--I don't know what to do!"
Sam gasped. "Oh no!" Turning, he passed Elanor to his wife, and with a quiet word and a kiss for both Elanor and Rosie, Sam was running to the hall closet. Pulling out his own elven-cloak, he threw it on and fastened it as the three hobbits ran out the door and down the path. It was quickly decided that Sam and Frodo would run and get their ponies from the town stables where they resided and meet back at the gate.
After a couple of minutes, Frodo and Sam, cloaks streaming behind them, rode back to Merry on their ponies, Strider and Bill. Merry then led the way, and within minutes they were crossing the Brandywine Bridge and flying up the path to the Brandybuck smial.
The hobbits left their ponies with some Brandybuck servants and hurried down the hall to the room where Pippin lay. As they came in sight of the door, they saw Missy Brandybuck, Merry's cousin, who had tears streaming down her face. Merry, Sam and Frodo felt chills run up their spines as they looked at Missy's grief-stricken face.
"Oh no. Oh no! What happened?" Merry demanded, white-faced.
Missy bowed her head.
"No...No! He can't be..."
"No, Merry, he's n-not dead...." sobbed Missy. "He's just awoken..."
Merry's mouth dropped open. "Well, why didn't you say so?!?" he demanded, pushing past Missy into the room. Frodo and Sam followed--and gasped at what they saw.
Dr. Flugedern and old Darcy Brandybuck were kneeling on either side of Pippin's bed, struggling to keep Pippin held down. The poor hobbit was thrashing about in the blankets. A smashed glass of water lay on the bedside table, and his right hand was cut and bloody. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth was hanging open, and his breath came in shallow gasps.
"Pippin!" Merry ran to his friend's side. As he did so, Pippin, with a huge burst of strength, tore out of Dr. Flugedern's and Darcy's grip, focused on Merry, lunged forward, and grabbed him by the collar.
"Merry...he's back...he's back..."
"Wha--Pippin! Calm down! It's all right, we're safe here..."
"No!" Pippin gasped. "Not safe...not here...not...anywhere..."
"Pip, what are you talking about?"
"Him...S-Sauron..."
At that name, Frodo jumped a foot off the ground, Sam nearly fell over, and Merry stared at Pippin, mouth agape.
"But--he's gone --you must be hallucinating, Pip, he can't be back!"
"No...no...he's--"
But what he was, Merry was going to have to wait to find out. Pippin's eyes rolled back into his head, his hand fell away from Merry's collar, and he collapsed backwards into the pillows.
Merry, stark white, looked around at Frodo and Sam, who also looked as if they'd just fallen face-first into bowls of flour.
"He can't be back," he insisted. "It's impossible!"
"That's right, Mr. Merry," Sam, though still looking like the end of the world had just happened, agreed. "Frodo destroyed the Ring, and he can't come back without the Ring..."
"He's gone, forever," Frodo murmured softly, absentmindedly stroking the stump of the third finger on his right hand.
"Pippin was just talking nonsense...delirious," Sam concluded.
At that moment Dr. Flugedern spoke up. "His fever's rising rapidly. We need to cool him down, quickly, before the fever causes brain damage."
"What must we do?" asked Frodo.
The doctor began barking out orders, and soon a bathtub was brought in and filled with tepid water which Pippin was placed into. After some minutes, it became apparent that this method of cooling Pippin down wasn't working-- in fact, the fever was still rising. Dr. Flugedern decided it was time for more drastic measures, and ordered ice to be brought in.
To everyone's relief, this seemed to cool Pippin down. His fever broke, and for a while his temperature was almost normal. Then, suddenly, Pippin began to sweat again, and his fever rose quickly to dangerous levels.
The doctor was at a loss. "It'll be too dangerous to do another icepack right now, so soon after the first one. The herbs we've given him aren't working, either. I don't know what else to try. We could wait and try another icepack later, but at the rate the fever's rising, I'm not sure he'll make it that long. I've never seen anything like this before--it's most unnatural for a fever to rise like this."
"You're giving up?!?" gasped Merry in horror. "You're quitting? You can't! He'll die!"
"I'm terribly sorry. It's just too risky." Dr. Flugedern bowed his head.
"There's got to be something we can do! We can't just let him die!" Merry cried.
All of a sudden, Sam, who had been sitting next to Pippin's bed contemplating the situation, spoke up. "Maybe there is something we can do! Remember who healed Frodo of the Morgul blade wound?"
"Of course--Elrond! He's a great healer--we can take Pippin to Rivendell!"
"Oh, no!" Dr. Flugedern exclaimed. "He's far too weak to travel. He'll die."
"He'll die anyway if we don't do something," Frodo quietly pointed out.
"We've got to!" Merry insisted. "I won't just let him die!"
The doctor sighed. "I still don't think it's wise...but I've done all I can do here. If you think this Elrond can do more, then I suppose you're welcome to try." He administered one more dose of herbs to Pippin to hopefully allow him to make it to Rivendell, packed up his instruments and took his leave, fearing that Pippin was already doomed.
Frodo, Sam and Merry conferred together, deciding the fastest they could be ready to travel and the quickest route to take to Rivendell. With that, Pippin's friends hurried to prepare for the journey that was their last hope for their dear friend.
Author's Note: Missy and Darcy are characters of my own invention and don't fit into the official Brandybuck family as laid out by Tolkien, as far as I know. Same goes for Dr. Flugedern, except that there was never a Flugedern family as created by Tolkien.