Moria's Revenge, chapter 11: Nursed
Author:Kookaburra
Co-author: Llinos
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I do not even own the computer I'm typing this on.
Thank you again to Llinos.
A/N: All of the herbal remedies in here are for real. My sources were:
Eduger, Philip.
"How to Grow Herbs: A Sunset Book".
Menlo Park: Lane Books,
1975.
Drs. Wallach, J.D. and Lan, Ma.
"Let's Play Herbal Doctor! An American Home Herbal".
Bonita: Wellness Publications, LLC,
2001.
My mom, who knows more about this stuff than anyone.
Mabe, Rex E.
"Gardening with herbs".
Greensboro:Potpourri Press,
1973.
Brenzel, Kathleen.
"Western Garden Book".
Menlo Park:Sunset Publishing Corp,
1995.
Mackinnon, Pojar.
"Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast".
Vancouver: Lone Pine Publishing,
1994.
Herwig, Rob.
"Healthy Houseplants".
Tucson: H.P. Books,
1979.
House, Homer D.
"Wild Flowers".
New York: The Macmillan Co,
1935.
Niere, who answered all of my medical questions.
Mainframe, who answered some more. *** DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TREAT YOURSELF WITH HERBS. DO SO ONLY UNDER A DOCTOR'S SUPERVISION. DON'T SUE ME IF YOU KILL YOURSELF.
As Aragorn paced through the rocks, he tried not to jar the sobbing little hobbit in his arms. Pippin appeared dazed, and buried his face in Aragorn's coat. Legolas had tied the scarf snugly around Pippin's neck to protect the sores the collar had left. He shifted Pippin in his arms, mindful of the little one's injuries. At the movement Pippin looked up and his eyes opened a bit more as he whimpered.
Pippin's vision cleared of mist, though it was still quite blurry. His other senses came around slowly. Strider was carrying him. What had happened? The orcs must have given him back to the Fellowship. He remembered now - Strider binding his arms tightly so that he could not move. What had he done to him then? The orcs would beat him or torment him so they could laugh at him. Is that what Strider was going to do. He didn't remember. Probably that had already happened. He knew his body had learned to shut down when the pain became too great, and then he would just wake up with more hurts than before. He hurt now. With every step the ranger took, Pippin felt a jolt of agony streak through his body. Strider must have beaten him so hard he had passed out again.
Legolas walked ahead of Aragorn, keeping hold of the warg's leash. He looked around at the foliage. Birds were just starting to sing. A pang of loss hit him. He remembered when he was a small elf lad so long ago, and Mithrandir would tell him that the birds woke up the sun, and without them Middle Earth would be forever dark, as the sun was lazy. (That's why it moved so slowly).
The elf did not think he would have been able to stand the loss of both Mithrandir and Peregrin. He reflected on the two seemingly opposites members of their Fellowship, the oldest and the youngest.
The quest was Gandalf's whole reason for being on Middle Earth, to Pippin the quest was an adventure. //Though not such an adventure as of late.// Yet the two were incredibly similar. They were both playful, valued almost everything over gold, and noticed the little things.
Legolas smiled at a memory from early in their journey. Pippin had spotted a pretty little green thrush in a shrub. It was so well hidden that even the elf had not noticed it until Pip pointed it out. Then Gandalf had got down on one knee to be at Pippin's level, and told the curious perian everything he knew about that species of bird. From then on, Pippin had pestered The Grey Pilgrim about everything they saw on their quest, from strange flowers, to interesting insects, and even rocks. Gandalf acted annoyed at the endless stream of questions, but Legolas could tell that he was very flattered to be viewed as all-knowing by the little one.
Then Legolas remember sadly how devastated Pippin had been when his hero had shouted at him for his foolish stone dropping in Moria and how relieved everyone in the Fellowship had felt when Gandalf finally forgave him with a kindly word, sending the weary perian off to the corner to sleep.
Stepping over a rock that thrust itself up in their path Aragorn wished he could carry Pippin in another position, without putting strain on his wounds. Strider's arms were getting tired and he was afraid of jolting the halfling through his own weariness.
"Legolas," he finally called out, "would you carry Pippin for a while?" The elf stopped, and with some awkwardness they transferred the broken body to his arms.
Pippin stirred slightly and looked up into the elf's face. He smiled kindly down at the frightened halfling. "Pippin, do not be afraid. Close your eyes and try to rest."
Pippin struggled slightly in Legolas's gentle arms, causing the elf to grip him a little tighter. Why had Strider given him to Legolas, Pippin wondered frantically. He must have finished with him and now the elf wanted a turn, just as the orcs had passed him around. What had he whispered to him? ...be afraid... 'Please Legolas,' Pippin wanted to cry out but could not find his voice. 'please don't hurt me, not you.' Tears ran from his eyes and Legolas bent his head to kiss them away. 'no! not that!' Pippin remembered that the master had started his abuse by kissing him. Pippin buried his face in Legolas's tunic, trying to avoid further contact with his lips.
He thought himself worthless when the orcs had used and abused him, but that was obviously just a prelude for what was to come. The evil ones had just been getting him ready for his real humiliation and degradation, which was to be at the hands of his comrades. He knew he was fit for nothing but this, but would it be too much to ask the Valar for death instead? Probably, he did not deserve such release.
Aragorn took the warg's leash, and stretched out his muscles. He looked around. "I am going to be stopping frequently to search for healing herbs. My supply is thin, and the athelas is almost gone." Legolas nodded.
"I have been noticing many varieties of plants that I do not believe are native to this area. The patches are quite regular."
"I have seen this too. Perhaps this area was once inhabited farmland." The two companions walked in silence then, Aragorn scanning the sides of the trail for herbs.
***
Merry sat back on his heels and looked at the bedroll he had laid out for Pippin. It was padded with all of the blankets they had. Boromir and Sam fussed about in another part of the camp, setting up some medicines, as per Aragorn's instructions. Along the way, Sam had been running off a short distance and returning with hands full of plants. He refused to say what he was doing, and would only turn red if questioned intensely. So far he had quite a collection, of which only a few Merry recognized, those being peppermint, rosemary, lavender, onions and garlic. But what possible use they could be he had no idea.
Frodo sat staring into the fire Gimli had lit. They were camped in a veritable water park, and it had been a trick to get dry kindling. Hot springs were everywhere, and the faint tang in the air indicated they were soda springs, too. Frodo sighed. Pippin had loved soda ever since some relatives from the north had brought some bottles for Yule. Frodo remembered watching in amusement with Bilbo as a seven year old Pippin giggled and sneezed from the shimmering bubbles.
Frodo's arms and legs were cramping. In one night they had covered an incredible amount of ground. Then his job, when they went to prepare the camp was to haul hot water. He had filled all of Sam's pots and pans, and both the collapsible buckets with the stuff. Then Boromir had gone about, mixing medicines in them, which gave the whole glade an interesting aroma. A noise made him look up.
Aragorn and Legolas had finally arrived. Aragorn's arms were full of plants and Legolas's were full of hobbit. Merry jumped up and rushed over, then followed Legolas back to the bedroll, where the elf tenderly placed Pippin, still wrapped in one of Bill's blankets. Legolas then placed his pack under Pippin's knees to elevate them and take the pressure off his laceration. Pippin was whimpering and crying again. Merry unabashedly lay down beside him, and with tears in his eyes began to hug and kiss his cousin, telling him that it would be all right, he was safe, and that Merry would never let anyone hurt him again.
At the caresses, Pippin began to cry softly, and then jerk spasmodically against his bandages. He had awoken again to find himself being laid on the ground by Legolas. The elf must have done whatever he wanted and was now getting him ready for someone else. He felt his knees lifted and something placed underneath them. This was a new torture, but a familiar position. Who was coming for him now, it was too terrible to bear. Someone had begun to caress and kiss him so he opened his eyes. Not Merry! No please not that. How could Merry want to hurt him or do those terrible things to him? It was beyond belief. And yet he did believe it, that was what he was for now. It was his own fault and he deserved whatever happened.
"Strider!" Merry called, fear in his voice. "Something's wrong with Pip!" And then to Pippin, "Please Pip, wake up! It's me, Merry, we're together again, everything's going to be fine, you'll see..."
As Aragorn heard these words, his heart was saddened. Everything was not fine with Pippin, and might never be. If Pippin could pull through the day and the night, then there would still be mind trauma. He reach out and took Merry by the shoulders and drew him away. It was quite a challenge, the little hobbit was shaking with emotion and desperate to stay by his cousin but Aragorn finally managed to gently lift him away.
"Peace, Merry, he is not in his right mind. He probably still thinks he is in the hands of the orcs. In order to keep him calm, we must not touch him unless it is necessary. Besides, I do not want to have to treat you for lice also."
Merry sniffled a little, hiccupped a sob, stopped struggling, and nodded. Strider set him down, and went to take stock of their supplies. As Merry sat watching Pippin, he felt a hot breath on the back of his neck. Wondering who it was, he turned his head. His heart seemed to stop.
The white warg that had been in the clearing stood behind him, growling low in it's throat.
Aragorn was not as used to tying things up so that they could not escape as the goblins were, and it had been a moment's work for Icefang to free herself from the tree where she had been left. Aragorn had been planning on returning and retrieving her after he had explained to the others why they had taken her. He had already done so when Legolas had gone back to where she had been tied.
At the moment Legolas was wondering where the warg had gone. He was sure it was this tree where they had left her...
Shouts sounded from the campsite behind him. He turned on his heel and sprinted back. When he bounded up, he could see Merry backed up against a rock while Boromir brought his sword to bear on the warg, who was crouching down next to Pippin, her teeth bared.
Legolas barely had time to throw out a mental "arm" and stopped Boromir from his blow in mid air.
"Wait!" Aragorn's voice rang out. She means no harm!" Boromir lowered his arm and looked from the elf to the ranger and then back at the warg. She was now settling herself around the hobbit, nestling into him and licking at his face. For the first time Pippin seemed to relax and buried his face into her warm belly as the warg pushed his face further in, pressing her muzzle against the back of his head.
Merry's mouth dropped open in astonishment as he saw his little cousin, the future Thain of the Shire, nuzzle into the wild animal and latch his mouth onto the beast's teat and begin to suckle. "Aragorn!" he cried in horror. "What's Pip doing with that wolf? Stop him!"
Aragorn came and stood next to Merry and laid his hand on his shoulder. "No Merry, I think it is the best thing that he could possibly have right now." Merry looked up in confusion. Aragorn continued, "some motherly love and attention and warm milk in his belly."
***
Aragorn steeped the athelas in hot spring water. The first thing he was going to do was give Pippin a thorough bath. It would be therapeutic and help disinfect his injuries.
Pippin had slept for quite a while snuggled up to the white warg and Aragorn was glad now that they had decided to bring her, although it did make treating Pippin slightly problematic as she was not keen to let others touch him. For Aragorn though she would make an exception. She knew from Legolas's mind pictures that he was trying to heal her cub and that she would allow.
Once Aragorn had managed to extricate Pippin from her ministrations, Gimli had lured her away with some dried meat and they had tied her this time with a stick on the leash so that she could not reach the rope to chew through it.
"Boromir, come help me with Pippin." Boromir supported Pippin's head as Aragorn lowered the tiny halfling partially into the water. Boromir spoke soothing words to Pippin as Aragorn gently washed him with a cloth. Pippin whimpered fearfully and struggled weakly in Boromir's strong arms, captive of dark dreams.
"What do you suppose ails him, Aragorn? I speak but he doesn't hear, and when he does open his eyes and look at me, his face fills with terror."
"I do not know for sure, Boromir. But I worry that in his struggles he may cause further harm to himself." Aragorn reached up to Pippin's head and began to wet down the curls with the washcloth. "I suspect he does not know where he is but believes he is still captive of the orcs."
"Do you have any sedative you could give him, that would at least spare him from his dark dreams? It pains me terribly to see him suffering so."
"I am afraid I have none. The only one I would feel comfortable using in his condition is amantilla, and of that I have none."
"I consider myself well-versed in herb-lore, though not so well as you, and I have never heard of that."
"In Gondor it is called valerian. I searched on the way here, but I did not see any."
"M-Mr. Strider?" Aragorn felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked up from bathing Pippin. Then he looked down. Sam was gazing up at him. "I got some herbs on the way back too, nothing much, but I did go a bit off the path. I found some vandal-root. I don't know if it's safe, but me mum used to use it to help us sleep. Mayhap it'll help Mr. Pippin?"
Aragorn looked like he'd been hit on the back of the head by a board. Then the first genuine smile in days broke on his lips.
"My dear Samwise! I could kiss you! vandal-root is just another name for amantilla! Quickly, where is it?"
Leaving Pippin in Boromir's arms and handing the washcloth to Merry, who had been hovering worriedly near the pool, Aragorn went over to Sam's pile of plants. Selecting one with a long green stem and small lacy, white flowers, Aragorn cut off the root with a small knife. He sent Sam to go and wash them. After a few moments of rummaging around in his pack, Aragorn drew out a pestle and mortar. When Sam brought the roots back to him, the ranger ground up the roots into a thick, pungent paste. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, Aragorn walked over to where Merry was now washing the filth from Pippin.
"Here, Boromir. Support his head and back. I will give this too him on my finger."
Boromir coughed a little at the odour.
"My heart hurts for Pippin if the smell is anything to judge its taste by! I have smelled better things in my father's stables!"
"I would have liked to sweeten it with honey, but unfortunately the bees are all asleep for the winter." Aragorn said wryly. "And Pippin must be calm, even if it means taking something that tastes like urine." Aragorn then covered one of his fingers in the paste and gently forced it into Pippin's mouth. "Come on, little one, just suckle it off. You'll feel much better, shhh..."
Pippin was in the haze again, but could not see or move. He could hear snatches of phrases, but lacked the awareness to comprehend them fully. The hands that should have brought comfort as they washed the dirt of the orc den off only reminded him of goblin hands caressing him before... his mind shied away from the memory. There was too much, his mind in turmoil had reached saturation point. No, it had not happened, nothing had happened. If he did not remember it, it never was.
Then a terrible smell assaulted his nostrils. It reminded him of how it smelled when the three uruks relieved themselves on him after they... but his consciousness denied that event too. It never happened.
Then something forced itself into his mouth. He could not help remembering. Lugsta coming at him in the rocks, Frugly in Master's room, and the other one who also used him there. How it went on and on and he could not even escape into unconsciousness. It was as if it was happening over again, he could smell and taste their vileness, feel them scraping the back of his throat.
"...little one..." Strider! He recognized the ranger's voice. "...just suck..." Then another voice came, but from his memory.
//"Suck you little Dogwhore!"//
Pippin remembered also the beating that had followed when he did not comply. Why was Strider using him like this?
//"'Cause yer a worthless slut! Not good fer anythin' but this!"// Master's voice rang out in his mind.
Now he remembered everything, it came tumbling back. The orcs had only been preparing him, getting him ready for the others to punish him as he properly deserved. The master had explained it. It was all his fault and whatever happened to him was his fault.
Boromir uttered a strong oath when Pippin's whole body suddenly jerked. Even strong as he was, He had difficulty maintaining a grasp on Pippin's struggling form. Though almost as soon as Pip had started convulsing, he stopped, and huge tears began to roll down his cheeks, and he started to suck on Aragorn's finger.
"Shh," Aragorn crooned, "that's right, Pippin, just relax, you're safe." Aragorn continued washing Pippin, thinking he had calmed the hobbit.
When he had washed all of the dirt off Pippin, Aragorn laid him on a blanket on a flat shelf of rock by the water's edge. Tearing a small piece of fabric from his cloak, Aragorn wadded it up and placed it between the sedated halfling's teeth.
"Why are you doing that, Strider?" Merry asked. The hobbit had been suspiciously demanding information about all aspects of the treatment that his cousin was to receive.
"I am going to have to suture the laceration." At Merry's confused look, he added, "Stitch the cut on his tummy. It will be very painful, and Pippin will likely bite down, unconscious or no. The cloth is to protect his teeth and gums. I will also have to relocate his arms, another painful ordeal." Merry looked at his cousin wistfully.
"What can I do to help?"
"Just be here for Pippin, and hand me things when I need them. Now, keep an eye on Pip while I go and get things ready."
Aragorn walked over to the fire, where a pot of boiling water waited with his instruments sterilizing in it. As he began to unravel his cloak, Frodo looked up in concern.
"What are you doing, Strider?" Aragorn sighed inwardly.
"I am going to use this as suturing material for Pippin. Unfortunately I did not have the foresight to harvest some of Bill's tail hairs before we let him go."
"Oh dear, is there nothing better?" Frodo looked up at the ranger anxiously. "Poor Pip." Aragorn felt another cautious tug at his sleeve.
"Mr. Strider?" It was Sam again.
"What is it, Sam?" Aragorn said more abruptly than he meant to, he was worried about having to perform surgery on the vulnerable halfling while so ill-equipped.
"Will these do, Mr. Strider?" Aragorn looked down. Sam was holding up a braided lock of hair. Horsehair, to be exact.
"Sam! Where did you get those?" Aragorn was beginning to wonder if there was anything this hobbit did not have.
"Um, well," Sam turned pink, "when we let poor Bill go, I thought I'd make a bracelet or something, well, to remember him by." Sam turned even pinker. "I always wanted a pony when I was a little boy, and it seems to me that Bill was the closest I'd ever get."
"Sam, these will be perfect. Thank you." Aragorn threw the bracelet into the boiling water. While he was waiting for the items to sterilize, he went back over to Merry and Pippin.
Author:Kookaburra
Co-author: Llinos
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I do not even own the computer I'm typing this on.
Thank you again to Llinos.
A/N: All of the herbal remedies in here are for real. My sources were:
Eduger, Philip.
"How to Grow Herbs: A Sunset Book".
Menlo Park: Lane Books,
1975.
Drs. Wallach, J.D. and Lan, Ma.
"Let's Play Herbal Doctor! An American Home Herbal".
Bonita: Wellness Publications, LLC,
2001.
My mom, who knows more about this stuff than anyone.
Mabe, Rex E.
"Gardening with herbs".
Greensboro:Potpourri Press,
1973.
Brenzel, Kathleen.
"Western Garden Book".
Menlo Park:Sunset Publishing Corp,
1995.
Mackinnon, Pojar.
"Plants of the Pacific Northwest Coast".
Vancouver: Lone Pine Publishing,
1994.
Herwig, Rob.
"Healthy Houseplants".
Tucson: H.P. Books,
1979.
House, Homer D.
"Wild Flowers".
New York: The Macmillan Co,
1935.
Niere, who answered all of my medical questions.
Mainframe, who answered some more. *** DO NOT ATTEMPT TO TREAT YOURSELF WITH HERBS. DO SO ONLY UNDER A DOCTOR'S SUPERVISION. DON'T SUE ME IF YOU KILL YOURSELF.
As Aragorn paced through the rocks, he tried not to jar the sobbing little hobbit in his arms. Pippin appeared dazed, and buried his face in Aragorn's coat. Legolas had tied the scarf snugly around Pippin's neck to protect the sores the collar had left. He shifted Pippin in his arms, mindful of the little one's injuries. At the movement Pippin looked up and his eyes opened a bit more as he whimpered.
Pippin's vision cleared of mist, though it was still quite blurry. His other senses came around slowly. Strider was carrying him. What had happened? The orcs must have given him back to the Fellowship. He remembered now - Strider binding his arms tightly so that he could not move. What had he done to him then? The orcs would beat him or torment him so they could laugh at him. Is that what Strider was going to do. He didn't remember. Probably that had already happened. He knew his body had learned to shut down when the pain became too great, and then he would just wake up with more hurts than before. He hurt now. With every step the ranger took, Pippin felt a jolt of agony streak through his body. Strider must have beaten him so hard he had passed out again.
Legolas walked ahead of Aragorn, keeping hold of the warg's leash. He looked around at the foliage. Birds were just starting to sing. A pang of loss hit him. He remembered when he was a small elf lad so long ago, and Mithrandir would tell him that the birds woke up the sun, and without them Middle Earth would be forever dark, as the sun was lazy. (That's why it moved so slowly).
The elf did not think he would have been able to stand the loss of both Mithrandir and Peregrin. He reflected on the two seemingly opposites members of their Fellowship, the oldest and the youngest.
The quest was Gandalf's whole reason for being on Middle Earth, to Pippin the quest was an adventure. //Though not such an adventure as of late.// Yet the two were incredibly similar. They were both playful, valued almost everything over gold, and noticed the little things.
Legolas smiled at a memory from early in their journey. Pippin had spotted a pretty little green thrush in a shrub. It was so well hidden that even the elf had not noticed it until Pip pointed it out. Then Gandalf had got down on one knee to be at Pippin's level, and told the curious perian everything he knew about that species of bird. From then on, Pippin had pestered The Grey Pilgrim about everything they saw on their quest, from strange flowers, to interesting insects, and even rocks. Gandalf acted annoyed at the endless stream of questions, but Legolas could tell that he was very flattered to be viewed as all-knowing by the little one.
Then Legolas remember sadly how devastated Pippin had been when his hero had shouted at him for his foolish stone dropping in Moria and how relieved everyone in the Fellowship had felt when Gandalf finally forgave him with a kindly word, sending the weary perian off to the corner to sleep.
Stepping over a rock that thrust itself up in their path Aragorn wished he could carry Pippin in another position, without putting strain on his wounds. Strider's arms were getting tired and he was afraid of jolting the halfling through his own weariness.
"Legolas," he finally called out, "would you carry Pippin for a while?" The elf stopped, and with some awkwardness they transferred the broken body to his arms.
Pippin stirred slightly and looked up into the elf's face. He smiled kindly down at the frightened halfling. "Pippin, do not be afraid. Close your eyes and try to rest."
Pippin struggled slightly in Legolas's gentle arms, causing the elf to grip him a little tighter. Why had Strider given him to Legolas, Pippin wondered frantically. He must have finished with him and now the elf wanted a turn, just as the orcs had passed him around. What had he whispered to him? ...be afraid... 'Please Legolas,' Pippin wanted to cry out but could not find his voice. 'please don't hurt me, not you.' Tears ran from his eyes and Legolas bent his head to kiss them away. 'no! not that!' Pippin remembered that the master had started his abuse by kissing him. Pippin buried his face in Legolas's tunic, trying to avoid further contact with his lips.
He thought himself worthless when the orcs had used and abused him, but that was obviously just a prelude for what was to come. The evil ones had just been getting him ready for his real humiliation and degradation, which was to be at the hands of his comrades. He knew he was fit for nothing but this, but would it be too much to ask the Valar for death instead? Probably, he did not deserve such release.
Aragorn took the warg's leash, and stretched out his muscles. He looked around. "I am going to be stopping frequently to search for healing herbs. My supply is thin, and the athelas is almost gone." Legolas nodded.
"I have been noticing many varieties of plants that I do not believe are native to this area. The patches are quite regular."
"I have seen this too. Perhaps this area was once inhabited farmland." The two companions walked in silence then, Aragorn scanning the sides of the trail for herbs.
***
Merry sat back on his heels and looked at the bedroll he had laid out for Pippin. It was padded with all of the blankets they had. Boromir and Sam fussed about in another part of the camp, setting up some medicines, as per Aragorn's instructions. Along the way, Sam had been running off a short distance and returning with hands full of plants. He refused to say what he was doing, and would only turn red if questioned intensely. So far he had quite a collection, of which only a few Merry recognized, those being peppermint, rosemary, lavender, onions and garlic. But what possible use they could be he had no idea.
Frodo sat staring into the fire Gimli had lit. They were camped in a veritable water park, and it had been a trick to get dry kindling. Hot springs were everywhere, and the faint tang in the air indicated they were soda springs, too. Frodo sighed. Pippin had loved soda ever since some relatives from the north had brought some bottles for Yule. Frodo remembered watching in amusement with Bilbo as a seven year old Pippin giggled and sneezed from the shimmering bubbles.
Frodo's arms and legs were cramping. In one night they had covered an incredible amount of ground. Then his job, when they went to prepare the camp was to haul hot water. He had filled all of Sam's pots and pans, and both the collapsible buckets with the stuff. Then Boromir had gone about, mixing medicines in them, which gave the whole glade an interesting aroma. A noise made him look up.
Aragorn and Legolas had finally arrived. Aragorn's arms were full of plants and Legolas's were full of hobbit. Merry jumped up and rushed over, then followed Legolas back to the bedroll, where the elf tenderly placed Pippin, still wrapped in one of Bill's blankets. Legolas then placed his pack under Pippin's knees to elevate them and take the pressure off his laceration. Pippin was whimpering and crying again. Merry unabashedly lay down beside him, and with tears in his eyes began to hug and kiss his cousin, telling him that it would be all right, he was safe, and that Merry would never let anyone hurt him again.
At the caresses, Pippin began to cry softly, and then jerk spasmodically against his bandages. He had awoken again to find himself being laid on the ground by Legolas. The elf must have done whatever he wanted and was now getting him ready for someone else. He felt his knees lifted and something placed underneath them. This was a new torture, but a familiar position. Who was coming for him now, it was too terrible to bear. Someone had begun to caress and kiss him so he opened his eyes. Not Merry! No please not that. How could Merry want to hurt him or do those terrible things to him? It was beyond belief. And yet he did believe it, that was what he was for now. It was his own fault and he deserved whatever happened.
"Strider!" Merry called, fear in his voice. "Something's wrong with Pip!" And then to Pippin, "Please Pip, wake up! It's me, Merry, we're together again, everything's going to be fine, you'll see..."
As Aragorn heard these words, his heart was saddened. Everything was not fine with Pippin, and might never be. If Pippin could pull through the day and the night, then there would still be mind trauma. He reach out and took Merry by the shoulders and drew him away. It was quite a challenge, the little hobbit was shaking with emotion and desperate to stay by his cousin but Aragorn finally managed to gently lift him away.
"Peace, Merry, he is not in his right mind. He probably still thinks he is in the hands of the orcs. In order to keep him calm, we must not touch him unless it is necessary. Besides, I do not want to have to treat you for lice also."
Merry sniffled a little, hiccupped a sob, stopped struggling, and nodded. Strider set him down, and went to take stock of their supplies. As Merry sat watching Pippin, he felt a hot breath on the back of his neck. Wondering who it was, he turned his head. His heart seemed to stop.
The white warg that had been in the clearing stood behind him, growling low in it's throat.
Aragorn was not as used to tying things up so that they could not escape as the goblins were, and it had been a moment's work for Icefang to free herself from the tree where she had been left. Aragorn had been planning on returning and retrieving her after he had explained to the others why they had taken her. He had already done so when Legolas had gone back to where she had been tied.
At the moment Legolas was wondering where the warg had gone. He was sure it was this tree where they had left her...
Shouts sounded from the campsite behind him. He turned on his heel and sprinted back. When he bounded up, he could see Merry backed up against a rock while Boromir brought his sword to bear on the warg, who was crouching down next to Pippin, her teeth bared.
Legolas barely had time to throw out a mental "arm" and stopped Boromir from his blow in mid air.
"Wait!" Aragorn's voice rang out. She means no harm!" Boromir lowered his arm and looked from the elf to the ranger and then back at the warg. She was now settling herself around the hobbit, nestling into him and licking at his face. For the first time Pippin seemed to relax and buried his face into her warm belly as the warg pushed his face further in, pressing her muzzle against the back of his head.
Merry's mouth dropped open in astonishment as he saw his little cousin, the future Thain of the Shire, nuzzle into the wild animal and latch his mouth onto the beast's teat and begin to suckle. "Aragorn!" he cried in horror. "What's Pip doing with that wolf? Stop him!"
Aragorn came and stood next to Merry and laid his hand on his shoulder. "No Merry, I think it is the best thing that he could possibly have right now." Merry looked up in confusion. Aragorn continued, "some motherly love and attention and warm milk in his belly."
***
Aragorn steeped the athelas in hot spring water. The first thing he was going to do was give Pippin a thorough bath. It would be therapeutic and help disinfect his injuries.
Pippin had slept for quite a while snuggled up to the white warg and Aragorn was glad now that they had decided to bring her, although it did make treating Pippin slightly problematic as she was not keen to let others touch him. For Aragorn though she would make an exception. She knew from Legolas's mind pictures that he was trying to heal her cub and that she would allow.
Once Aragorn had managed to extricate Pippin from her ministrations, Gimli had lured her away with some dried meat and they had tied her this time with a stick on the leash so that she could not reach the rope to chew through it.
"Boromir, come help me with Pippin." Boromir supported Pippin's head as Aragorn lowered the tiny halfling partially into the water. Boromir spoke soothing words to Pippin as Aragorn gently washed him with a cloth. Pippin whimpered fearfully and struggled weakly in Boromir's strong arms, captive of dark dreams.
"What do you suppose ails him, Aragorn? I speak but he doesn't hear, and when he does open his eyes and look at me, his face fills with terror."
"I do not know for sure, Boromir. But I worry that in his struggles he may cause further harm to himself." Aragorn reached up to Pippin's head and began to wet down the curls with the washcloth. "I suspect he does not know where he is but believes he is still captive of the orcs."
"Do you have any sedative you could give him, that would at least spare him from his dark dreams? It pains me terribly to see him suffering so."
"I am afraid I have none. The only one I would feel comfortable using in his condition is amantilla, and of that I have none."
"I consider myself well-versed in herb-lore, though not so well as you, and I have never heard of that."
"In Gondor it is called valerian. I searched on the way here, but I did not see any."
"M-Mr. Strider?" Aragorn felt a tug on his sleeve and he looked up from bathing Pippin. Then he looked down. Sam was gazing up at him. "I got some herbs on the way back too, nothing much, but I did go a bit off the path. I found some vandal-root. I don't know if it's safe, but me mum used to use it to help us sleep. Mayhap it'll help Mr. Pippin?"
Aragorn looked like he'd been hit on the back of the head by a board. Then the first genuine smile in days broke on his lips.
"My dear Samwise! I could kiss you! vandal-root is just another name for amantilla! Quickly, where is it?"
Leaving Pippin in Boromir's arms and handing the washcloth to Merry, who had been hovering worriedly near the pool, Aragorn went over to Sam's pile of plants. Selecting one with a long green stem and small lacy, white flowers, Aragorn cut off the root with a small knife. He sent Sam to go and wash them. After a few moments of rummaging around in his pack, Aragorn drew out a pestle and mortar. When Sam brought the roots back to him, the ranger ground up the roots into a thick, pungent paste. Wrinkling his nose at the smell, Aragorn walked over to where Merry was now washing the filth from Pippin.
"Here, Boromir. Support his head and back. I will give this too him on my finger."
Boromir coughed a little at the odour.
"My heart hurts for Pippin if the smell is anything to judge its taste by! I have smelled better things in my father's stables!"
"I would have liked to sweeten it with honey, but unfortunately the bees are all asleep for the winter." Aragorn said wryly. "And Pippin must be calm, even if it means taking something that tastes like urine." Aragorn then covered one of his fingers in the paste and gently forced it into Pippin's mouth. "Come on, little one, just suckle it off. You'll feel much better, shhh..."
Pippin was in the haze again, but could not see or move. He could hear snatches of phrases, but lacked the awareness to comprehend them fully. The hands that should have brought comfort as they washed the dirt of the orc den off only reminded him of goblin hands caressing him before... his mind shied away from the memory. There was too much, his mind in turmoil had reached saturation point. No, it had not happened, nothing had happened. If he did not remember it, it never was.
Then a terrible smell assaulted his nostrils. It reminded him of how it smelled when the three uruks relieved themselves on him after they... but his consciousness denied that event too. It never happened.
Then something forced itself into his mouth. He could not help remembering. Lugsta coming at him in the rocks, Frugly in Master's room, and the other one who also used him there. How it went on and on and he could not even escape into unconsciousness. It was as if it was happening over again, he could smell and taste their vileness, feel them scraping the back of his throat.
"...little one..." Strider! He recognized the ranger's voice. "...just suck..." Then another voice came, but from his memory.
//"Suck you little Dogwhore!"//
Pippin remembered also the beating that had followed when he did not comply. Why was Strider using him like this?
//"'Cause yer a worthless slut! Not good fer anythin' but this!"// Master's voice rang out in his mind.
Now he remembered everything, it came tumbling back. The orcs had only been preparing him, getting him ready for the others to punish him as he properly deserved. The master had explained it. It was all his fault and whatever happened to him was his fault.
Boromir uttered a strong oath when Pippin's whole body suddenly jerked. Even strong as he was, He had difficulty maintaining a grasp on Pippin's struggling form. Though almost as soon as Pip had started convulsing, he stopped, and huge tears began to roll down his cheeks, and he started to suck on Aragorn's finger.
"Shh," Aragorn crooned, "that's right, Pippin, just relax, you're safe." Aragorn continued washing Pippin, thinking he had calmed the hobbit.
When he had washed all of the dirt off Pippin, Aragorn laid him on a blanket on a flat shelf of rock by the water's edge. Tearing a small piece of fabric from his cloak, Aragorn wadded it up and placed it between the sedated halfling's teeth.
"Why are you doing that, Strider?" Merry asked. The hobbit had been suspiciously demanding information about all aspects of the treatment that his cousin was to receive.
"I am going to have to suture the laceration." At Merry's confused look, he added, "Stitch the cut on his tummy. It will be very painful, and Pippin will likely bite down, unconscious or no. The cloth is to protect his teeth and gums. I will also have to relocate his arms, another painful ordeal." Merry looked at his cousin wistfully.
"What can I do to help?"
"Just be here for Pippin, and hand me things when I need them. Now, keep an eye on Pip while I go and get things ready."
Aragorn walked over to the fire, where a pot of boiling water waited with his instruments sterilizing in it. As he began to unravel his cloak, Frodo looked up in concern.
"What are you doing, Strider?" Aragorn sighed inwardly.
"I am going to use this as suturing material for Pippin. Unfortunately I did not have the foresight to harvest some of Bill's tail hairs before we let him go."
"Oh dear, is there nothing better?" Frodo looked up at the ranger anxiously. "Poor Pip." Aragorn felt another cautious tug at his sleeve.
"Mr. Strider?" It was Sam again.
"What is it, Sam?" Aragorn said more abruptly than he meant to, he was worried about having to perform surgery on the vulnerable halfling while so ill-equipped.
"Will these do, Mr. Strider?" Aragorn looked down. Sam was holding up a braided lock of hair. Horsehair, to be exact.
"Sam! Where did you get those?" Aragorn was beginning to wonder if there was anything this hobbit did not have.
"Um, well," Sam turned pink, "when we let poor Bill go, I thought I'd make a bracelet or something, well, to remember him by." Sam turned even pinker. "I always wanted a pony when I was a little boy, and it seems to me that Bill was the closest I'd ever get."
"Sam, these will be perfect. Thank you." Aragorn threw the bracelet into the boiling water. While he was waiting for the items to sterilize, he went back over to Merry and Pippin.