Moria's Revenge, chapter 13: Reduced
Author: Kookaburra
Co-Author: Llinos the Magnificent, the Awe-inspiring, Queen of Hobbitry, Also Co-author of Chapter 12, which I so horribly forgot to mention. 50 lashes to me! My only excuse is that I was so anxious to get her wonderful writing up, that it slipped my mind in my haste. ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
ONCE AGAIN, DO NOT TRY ANY OF THESE REMEDIES AT HOME.
***
Aragorn decided to take advantage of the fact that Pippin was asleep and start on the burns he had noted earlier. Taking a small vial of lavender oil out of his pack, he gently rolled Pippin onto his side, so that his body was supported by Icicle's.
"Sam," he called softly in the direction of the fire, "didn't you say you had some goatweed?"
"Aye Mr. Strider. Do you want me to do summat with it?"
"Yes, Crush the leaves into a bit of hot spring water. When the liquid turns oily, strain out the leaves and bring the oil here." As Sam went to do his chore, Aragorn turned his attention back to Pippin.
The burns were an angry red, with black, charred skin around the edges. They were mostly long and narrow in shape, while some were circular, and about a quarter of a fingers-length across. Aragorn shuddered at the thought of what these must have been caused by. //Most likely a long bar of metal, the long burns when he was beaten by it, and the circles when they stabbed him with it. Oh, my poor little Pippin...//
Aragorn then carefully placed several drops of soothing oil on each burn, the pleasant aroma permeating the air. //After all his wounds are attended to, I will give him a massage with this to help calm and comfort him.//
The Fellowship had sacrificed several articles of clothing for bandages, and Frodo had not even had to think twice about donating one of his finer shirts for a poultice. Aragorn laid these out, tore them into the appropriate sizes and shapes, and spread the remainder of the onion and garlic paste on them.
"Mr. Strider? The oil is ready." Sam held up a pan full of a dark red broth.
"Thank you Sam." Said Aragorn, gently taking the pot from Sam. He carefully poured the thick liquid over the poultices, where the garlic quickly soaked it up.
"Gimli?" Aragorn called to the dwarf "Could you take Icicle and feed her well."
"What should I give her? Something special?" Gimli asked. So far they had fed Icicle with scraps from their own plates.
"Give her the best we can spare," Aragorn patted the warg's snowy head. "The milk she is giving Pippin is vital for him at the moment and the better fed she is, the better it will be. Make sure she drinks plenty too."
"I'll be certain she fares as well as any of us." Gimli took the leash and coaxed the animal to follow him. Pippin was sleeping now so she reluctantly went with the dwarf.
"Boromir, Legolas, Sam." Aragorn called. "I will need your strength now." When they were all present, Aragorn instructed Boromir to lift Pippin, making sure that access to all of the wounds was available.
As Aragorn placed the poultice patches over each bruise, cut, and whiplash, Sam and Legolas wrapped a bandage around it to secure the dressing. Soon Pippin's entire torso was wrapped up.
"Now I am afraid I must really hurt him." Aragorn lamented. "It is time to reduce his joints. Aragorn looked over at Merry, who was sitting on a rock nearby, a vantage point from which he could carefully observe all they were doing. "Merry, I want you and Frodo to take Icicle for a walk now."
"No!" I can't leave Pippin!" Merry exclaimed in dismay. "If Sam is to stay, so must I!"
"Sam is the only one who knows about herbs, and he has undoubtedly assisted in relocating joints before." Aragorn raised an eyebrow. Sam blushed and nodded sheepishly.
"But Aragorn," Merry protested. "Pip needs me, especially now. I've always looked after him, please don't send me away."
"Merry," Aragorn moved over to the rock where Merry sat as Pippin was laid gently back down from the others' arms. "He is still in shock. I am certain he does not know where he is or who is here. He does not even know what is being said to him."
"That's why I have to make him understand." Merry persisted.
"No Merry," Aragorn explained patiently. "You stayed before when he was being hurt and I don't think that was a good idea. At the moment the only one he relates to is the warg and I think that is because the only time he is not being hurt in any way is when he is with her. She comforts him and feeds him, but she has no hands to touch him or threaten him in any way."
"But I won't hurt him." Merry pleaded.
"He does not know that." Aragorn knew he had to win this argument. "All Pippin knows is that he is being hurt and then he sees your face and will associate you with the hurt. Do you see now why I don't want you here?"
"Come on Merry." Frodo took his cousin by the arm. "Aragorn is making sense, you can help Pippin far more later on if you are not involved with any of these painful processes." Merry looked pleadingly at Frodo. "You will be helping by taking Icicle out of the way. Aragorn cannot work on Pippin while she is here."
Merry sighed and realised at last that the others were right. He slid down from the rock, kissed the sleeping hobbit and took Frodo's arm to go and find if Icicle had finished her dinner yet.
Aragorn turned to the others. "Boromir, you Sam and Legolas had better stay here to help me with Pippin. Gimli, I think it would be well if you went with the other two."
Gimli, who had returned from feeding Icicle, looked a little puzzled. "But surely..." he began.
"I am not trying to get you out of the way." Aragorn smiled. "We do not want Frodo or Merry to meet Pippin's fate. I am not sure how safe this location is and I think they need more of a guard than the orc's warg."
Gimli saw the logic in this and, collecting his axe, walked off to join the two halflings.
"Now," Aragorn bent down to Pippin. "I fear the first thing I must do is to wake the little one."
Boromir nodded in agreement. "Yes the pain will wake him in any case and that sudden shock could kill him."
"Pippin! Wake up!" Aragorn patted his cheeks gently. "Come on little one, open your eyes for me." He patted a little more firmly now until Pippin groaned and blearily came to.
"Pippin? Can you hear me?" Aragorn tried to get the hobbit to focus on him, but he still seemed disoriented and far away. "Who am I? Do you know?"
Pippin dreaded waking, he wanted to stay asleep if at all possible. Waking meant pain, usually new pain. Sleeping meant nightmares and terrifying dreams, but at least the pain stopped for a while and the uncertainty. That was the worst part of the pain, not knowing which torture would be next. One single hurt the body could get used to in time, Pippin decided, but the orcs knew how to vary it so that his poor abused frame never knew what the next agony would be.
But he was awake now. he had better pay attention. If he got it right sometimes they hurt him less, or they let him go to the other one, umummmum, what they called her he wasn't sure, but she gave him milk and kept him safe.
"Pippin can you hear me?" Aragorn attempted once more. "Who am I? What's my name?"
Oh no it was a question. 'Who am I?' What's my name?' He knew this, had done this before. Been beaten for getting it wrong. "Master. Is Master." Pippin whispered, hoping he got it right.
"No Pippin," Aragorn stroked his face patiently. "It is Strider. Remember? Sometimes you call me Aragorn. Try to remember."
Pippin's eyes retreated again; he cringed in fear, still in shock, still not understanding fully. Expecting to be hurt at any moment.
Aragorn sighed as he prepared for the relocation. He placed the cloth in Pippin's mouth to save him biting down on his tongue. Then, starting with his right arm, he carefully bent the elbow at a right angle. Pippin whimpered a little at the movement. Using the bent arm as a lever, Aragorn popped the joint into place. Pippin screamed through the material.
Sam was immediately by his head, stroking his hair and whispering reassuring words. Pippin looked frantically around for umummmum. His shoulder felt as if his arm had just been ripped off, and everybody was around him and looking at him, and where was umummmum...? He started to cry again, with choking little gasps. Pippin looked blearily at Sam. //Sam, no, make the pain stop please, I know you hate me, but make it stop...//
Pippin came to the realization that the Fellowship had to use him for the only thing he deserved. That was why they were devising new and terrible ways to hurt him every time he awoke. But even if they hated him after all of the bad things he had done, he still loved them. Pippin decided that no matter how much it hurt, since they would enjoy it, he would not try to interfere, so that he might at least be of use to them, and possibly be allowed to stay for a while.
Sam was relieved when Mr. Pippin stopped gasping and shaking, but when he looked into his eyes, he got even more worried. Pippin's eyes were blank. Dead. No flicker of emotion, not even fear or pain stirred in their depths. //He's given up. No! Pippin!// Sam willed the eyes to do something, but nothing happened.
Aragorn had moved to the other arm and prepared to reduce it. He looked over at Pippin.
"Now, Pip, this will hurt very much, but you have to be brave." Aragorn hoped that Pippin could hear and understand him. With a strong push he relocated the bone.
Nothing happened. Pippin's eyes did not even flicker, although he seemed to have bitten hard on the cloth. Aragorn was so worried at this that he reached up to feel the little one's pulse. It was still there, a little weaker than normal, but regular. Why had Pippin not cried out? He was certainly conscious. Aragorn crossed Pippin's arms over his narrow chest and immobilized them with a sling.
"Little one? Can you hear me?" Aragorn stroked Pippin's cheek with the back of his finger. He was growing more and more concerned that he was dealing with Pippin's physical hurts but not making any headway with his psychological needs. The injured hobbit barely spoke and did not seem to recognise anyone or anything they said to him.
Pippin knew for sure now that the dark one, the one that hurt him the most was Master. At first in his stupid pain-filled brain he had thought it was Strider, but that must have been an hallucination brought on by mushroom. It was Master; he would stroke his face and talk to him, in between hurting and abusing him or giving him to others to do the same.
"Boromir talk to Pippin and see if you can get him to react to you." Aragorn thought perhaps Pippin might recognise the Gondorian who had befriended him and cared for him and Merry during their journey so far. "He doesn't seem to know who I am."
Boromir leaned over Pippin and cupped his head in his great hands, tilting his head slightly forward to direct his vacant gaze towards his own eyes. "Little one, Pip, do you remember me? Your friend, Boromir." Pippin stared back, his eyes growing slightly wider. "Can you say, Boromir?"
Pippin remembered Boromir, it was a perfectly clear image. He was in the orc hall sitting on the floor. Boromir had a large whip in his hand and had beaten Pippin until he lost his senses. Dimly Pippin wondered why Boromir and Legolas and Strider had been there, perhaps the orcs were showing them the way to treat him. But the memory could not be denied. He had to say 'Boromir' now that was what he wanted. Pippin knew very well what happened if he didn't do as he was told. He couldn't see the whip, but he had no doubt it was there.
"Boromir." He whispered, scarcely able to form the word, partly from pain and exhaustion but mainly from fear.
"That's good, little one." Boromir leaned down and kissed him lightly on his brow.
Pippin shuddered at the contact. He was sure something terrible would follow. Had not Boromir abused him before as he lay here? He remembered him holding him down and then it had gone black. Maybe he was about to do it again. In panic, his eyes grown wide with terror, Pippin said his name again, "Boromir! Boromir! Please Boromir!" It was all he could think of to try and appease the man.
Aragorn frowned, although Pippin was repeating the words he was told, it did not seem to be calming him. It would be well to try and coax him to initiate something himself. "Pippin? It's all right now. No one is trying to hurt you. The hurts were made by the orcs, we are trying to make you better."
Of course! That was what Merry had told him. Pippin realised now, the Fellowship had to hurt and abuse him to make him better - to punish him for the bad things he had done.
"Pippin, tell me what you want." Aragorn tried. "Is there something you would like to have?" It was the only strategy Aragorn could think of right now to get Pippin to initiate a communication. He did not seem to know what the ranger wanted though and rolled his head from side to side, looking fearfully from Boromir to him.
Just then the three walkers arrived back with the warg in tow. Aragorn wondered how Pippin might react to a choice. "Frodo could you fetch a cup of water for me? Gimli bring Icicle over here please."
Once done Frodo stood to one side of Pippin with the water held just away from his lips and Gimli the other side with Icicle clearly in view. "Pippin, which do you want?" Aragorn gently held his head and turned him first towards the water. "Do you want a drink of water?" He turned him now towards the warg. "Or do you want to go to Icicle?"
Was this some kind of game they had devised, Pippin wondered, trying to trap him into yet another bizarre torture? He could not work it out any longer. He just knew that he wanted Umummmum more than anything.
He turned his head towards the warg and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master, Umummmum?"
As the warg curled around her pup and encouraged him to suckle, Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at what seemed to be his first victory. It wasn't much but at last he had something to bargain with.
****
Special Thanks:
Llinos: The bestest Co-author/beta a girl ever had. With out her this story would not be half of what it is.
Niere and Mainframe: For thier medical expertise, which has contributed to the timleyness of the chapters, as it means that I do not have to do research on my own.
Author: Kookaburra
Co-Author: Llinos the Magnificent, the Awe-inspiring, Queen of Hobbitry, Also Co-author of Chapter 12, which I so horribly forgot to mention. 50 lashes to me! My only excuse is that I was so anxious to get her wonderful writing up, that it slipped my mind in my haste. ;)
Disclaimer: Not mine.
ONCE AGAIN, DO NOT TRY ANY OF THESE REMEDIES AT HOME.
***
Aragorn decided to take advantage of the fact that Pippin was asleep and start on the burns he had noted earlier. Taking a small vial of lavender oil out of his pack, he gently rolled Pippin onto his side, so that his body was supported by Icicle's.
"Sam," he called softly in the direction of the fire, "didn't you say you had some goatweed?"
"Aye Mr. Strider. Do you want me to do summat with it?"
"Yes, Crush the leaves into a bit of hot spring water. When the liquid turns oily, strain out the leaves and bring the oil here." As Sam went to do his chore, Aragorn turned his attention back to Pippin.
The burns were an angry red, with black, charred skin around the edges. They were mostly long and narrow in shape, while some were circular, and about a quarter of a fingers-length across. Aragorn shuddered at the thought of what these must have been caused by. //Most likely a long bar of metal, the long burns when he was beaten by it, and the circles when they stabbed him with it. Oh, my poor little Pippin...//
Aragorn then carefully placed several drops of soothing oil on each burn, the pleasant aroma permeating the air. //After all his wounds are attended to, I will give him a massage with this to help calm and comfort him.//
The Fellowship had sacrificed several articles of clothing for bandages, and Frodo had not even had to think twice about donating one of his finer shirts for a poultice. Aragorn laid these out, tore them into the appropriate sizes and shapes, and spread the remainder of the onion and garlic paste on them.
"Mr. Strider? The oil is ready." Sam held up a pan full of a dark red broth.
"Thank you Sam." Said Aragorn, gently taking the pot from Sam. He carefully poured the thick liquid over the poultices, where the garlic quickly soaked it up.
"Gimli?" Aragorn called to the dwarf "Could you take Icicle and feed her well."
"What should I give her? Something special?" Gimli asked. So far they had fed Icicle with scraps from their own plates.
"Give her the best we can spare," Aragorn patted the warg's snowy head. "The milk she is giving Pippin is vital for him at the moment and the better fed she is, the better it will be. Make sure she drinks plenty too."
"I'll be certain she fares as well as any of us." Gimli took the leash and coaxed the animal to follow him. Pippin was sleeping now so she reluctantly went with the dwarf.
"Boromir, Legolas, Sam." Aragorn called. "I will need your strength now." When they were all present, Aragorn instructed Boromir to lift Pippin, making sure that access to all of the wounds was available.
As Aragorn placed the poultice patches over each bruise, cut, and whiplash, Sam and Legolas wrapped a bandage around it to secure the dressing. Soon Pippin's entire torso was wrapped up.
"Now I am afraid I must really hurt him." Aragorn lamented. "It is time to reduce his joints. Aragorn looked over at Merry, who was sitting on a rock nearby, a vantage point from which he could carefully observe all they were doing. "Merry, I want you and Frodo to take Icicle for a walk now."
"No!" I can't leave Pippin!" Merry exclaimed in dismay. "If Sam is to stay, so must I!"
"Sam is the only one who knows about herbs, and he has undoubtedly assisted in relocating joints before." Aragorn raised an eyebrow. Sam blushed and nodded sheepishly.
"But Aragorn," Merry protested. "Pip needs me, especially now. I've always looked after him, please don't send me away."
"Merry," Aragorn moved over to the rock where Merry sat as Pippin was laid gently back down from the others' arms. "He is still in shock. I am certain he does not know where he is or who is here. He does not even know what is being said to him."
"That's why I have to make him understand." Merry persisted.
"No Merry," Aragorn explained patiently. "You stayed before when he was being hurt and I don't think that was a good idea. At the moment the only one he relates to is the warg and I think that is because the only time he is not being hurt in any way is when he is with her. She comforts him and feeds him, but she has no hands to touch him or threaten him in any way."
"But I won't hurt him." Merry pleaded.
"He does not know that." Aragorn knew he had to win this argument. "All Pippin knows is that he is being hurt and then he sees your face and will associate you with the hurt. Do you see now why I don't want you here?"
"Come on Merry." Frodo took his cousin by the arm. "Aragorn is making sense, you can help Pippin far more later on if you are not involved with any of these painful processes." Merry looked pleadingly at Frodo. "You will be helping by taking Icicle out of the way. Aragorn cannot work on Pippin while she is here."
Merry sighed and realised at last that the others were right. He slid down from the rock, kissed the sleeping hobbit and took Frodo's arm to go and find if Icicle had finished her dinner yet.
Aragorn turned to the others. "Boromir, you Sam and Legolas had better stay here to help me with Pippin. Gimli, I think it would be well if you went with the other two."
Gimli, who had returned from feeding Icicle, looked a little puzzled. "But surely..." he began.
"I am not trying to get you out of the way." Aragorn smiled. "We do not want Frodo or Merry to meet Pippin's fate. I am not sure how safe this location is and I think they need more of a guard than the orc's warg."
Gimli saw the logic in this and, collecting his axe, walked off to join the two halflings.
"Now," Aragorn bent down to Pippin. "I fear the first thing I must do is to wake the little one."
Boromir nodded in agreement. "Yes the pain will wake him in any case and that sudden shock could kill him."
"Pippin! Wake up!" Aragorn patted his cheeks gently. "Come on little one, open your eyes for me." He patted a little more firmly now until Pippin groaned and blearily came to.
"Pippin? Can you hear me?" Aragorn tried to get the hobbit to focus on him, but he still seemed disoriented and far away. "Who am I? Do you know?"
Pippin dreaded waking, he wanted to stay asleep if at all possible. Waking meant pain, usually new pain. Sleeping meant nightmares and terrifying dreams, but at least the pain stopped for a while and the uncertainty. That was the worst part of the pain, not knowing which torture would be next. One single hurt the body could get used to in time, Pippin decided, but the orcs knew how to vary it so that his poor abused frame never knew what the next agony would be.
But he was awake now. he had better pay attention. If he got it right sometimes they hurt him less, or they let him go to the other one, umummmum, what they called her he wasn't sure, but she gave him milk and kept him safe.
"Pippin can you hear me?" Aragorn attempted once more. "Who am I? What's my name?"
Oh no it was a question. 'Who am I?' What's my name?' He knew this, had done this before. Been beaten for getting it wrong. "Master. Is Master." Pippin whispered, hoping he got it right.
"No Pippin," Aragorn stroked his face patiently. "It is Strider. Remember? Sometimes you call me Aragorn. Try to remember."
Pippin's eyes retreated again; he cringed in fear, still in shock, still not understanding fully. Expecting to be hurt at any moment.
Aragorn sighed as he prepared for the relocation. He placed the cloth in Pippin's mouth to save him biting down on his tongue. Then, starting with his right arm, he carefully bent the elbow at a right angle. Pippin whimpered a little at the movement. Using the bent arm as a lever, Aragorn popped the joint into place. Pippin screamed through the material.
Sam was immediately by his head, stroking his hair and whispering reassuring words. Pippin looked frantically around for umummmum. His shoulder felt as if his arm had just been ripped off, and everybody was around him and looking at him, and where was umummmum...? He started to cry again, with choking little gasps. Pippin looked blearily at Sam. //Sam, no, make the pain stop please, I know you hate me, but make it stop...//
Pippin came to the realization that the Fellowship had to use him for the only thing he deserved. That was why they were devising new and terrible ways to hurt him every time he awoke. But even if they hated him after all of the bad things he had done, he still loved them. Pippin decided that no matter how much it hurt, since they would enjoy it, he would not try to interfere, so that he might at least be of use to them, and possibly be allowed to stay for a while.
Sam was relieved when Mr. Pippin stopped gasping and shaking, but when he looked into his eyes, he got even more worried. Pippin's eyes were blank. Dead. No flicker of emotion, not even fear or pain stirred in their depths. //He's given up. No! Pippin!// Sam willed the eyes to do something, but nothing happened.
Aragorn had moved to the other arm and prepared to reduce it. He looked over at Pippin.
"Now, Pip, this will hurt very much, but you have to be brave." Aragorn hoped that Pippin could hear and understand him. With a strong push he relocated the bone.
Nothing happened. Pippin's eyes did not even flicker, although he seemed to have bitten hard on the cloth. Aragorn was so worried at this that he reached up to feel the little one's pulse. It was still there, a little weaker than normal, but regular. Why had Pippin not cried out? He was certainly conscious. Aragorn crossed Pippin's arms over his narrow chest and immobilized them with a sling.
"Little one? Can you hear me?" Aragorn stroked Pippin's cheek with the back of his finger. He was growing more and more concerned that he was dealing with Pippin's physical hurts but not making any headway with his psychological needs. The injured hobbit barely spoke and did not seem to recognise anyone or anything they said to him.
Pippin knew for sure now that the dark one, the one that hurt him the most was Master. At first in his stupid pain-filled brain he had thought it was Strider, but that must have been an hallucination brought on by mushroom. It was Master; he would stroke his face and talk to him, in between hurting and abusing him or giving him to others to do the same.
"Boromir talk to Pippin and see if you can get him to react to you." Aragorn thought perhaps Pippin might recognise the Gondorian who had befriended him and cared for him and Merry during their journey so far. "He doesn't seem to know who I am."
Boromir leaned over Pippin and cupped his head in his great hands, tilting his head slightly forward to direct his vacant gaze towards his own eyes. "Little one, Pip, do you remember me? Your friend, Boromir." Pippin stared back, his eyes growing slightly wider. "Can you say, Boromir?"
Pippin remembered Boromir, it was a perfectly clear image. He was in the orc hall sitting on the floor. Boromir had a large whip in his hand and had beaten Pippin until he lost his senses. Dimly Pippin wondered why Boromir and Legolas and Strider had been there, perhaps the orcs were showing them the way to treat him. But the memory could not be denied. He had to say 'Boromir' now that was what he wanted. Pippin knew very well what happened if he didn't do as he was told. He couldn't see the whip, but he had no doubt it was there.
"Boromir." He whispered, scarcely able to form the word, partly from pain and exhaustion but mainly from fear.
"That's good, little one." Boromir leaned down and kissed him lightly on his brow.
Pippin shuddered at the contact. He was sure something terrible would follow. Had not Boromir abused him before as he lay here? He remembered him holding him down and then it had gone black. Maybe he was about to do it again. In panic, his eyes grown wide with terror, Pippin said his name again, "Boromir! Boromir! Please Boromir!" It was all he could think of to try and appease the man.
Aragorn frowned, although Pippin was repeating the words he was told, it did not seem to be calming him. It would be well to try and coax him to initiate something himself. "Pippin? It's all right now. No one is trying to hurt you. The hurts were made by the orcs, we are trying to make you better."
Of course! That was what Merry had told him. Pippin realised now, the Fellowship had to hurt and abuse him to make him better - to punish him for the bad things he had done.
"Pippin, tell me what you want." Aragorn tried. "Is there something you would like to have?" It was the only strategy Aragorn could think of right now to get Pippin to initiate a communication. He did not seem to know what the ranger wanted though and rolled his head from side to side, looking fearfully from Boromir to him.
Just then the three walkers arrived back with the warg in tow. Aragorn wondered how Pippin might react to a choice. "Frodo could you fetch a cup of water for me? Gimli bring Icicle over here please."
Once done Frodo stood to one side of Pippin with the water held just away from his lips and Gimli the other side with Icicle clearly in view. "Pippin, which do you want?" Aragorn gently held his head and turned him first towards the water. "Do you want a drink of water?" He turned him now towards the warg. "Or do you want to go to Icicle?"
Was this some kind of game they had devised, Pippin wondered, trying to trap him into yet another bizarre torture? He could not work it out any longer. He just knew that he wanted Umummmum more than anything.
He turned his head towards the warg and whispered, "Umummmum, please Master, Umummmum?"
As the warg curled around her pup and encouraged him to suckle, Aragorn breathed a sigh of relief at what seemed to be his first victory. It wasn't much but at last he had something to bargain with.
****
Special Thanks:
Llinos: The bestest Co-author/beta a girl ever had. With out her this story would not be half of what it is.
Niere and Mainframe: For thier medical expertise, which has contributed to the timleyness of the chapters, as it means that I do not have to do research on my own.