Moria's Revenge, chapter 16: Soothed
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or make any money from it.
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos
Aragorn looked up at the blood red sky as the sun prepared to slip behind the Misty Mountains. They would have to douse the fire and hide the camp soon. He had wanted to get on with delousing Pippin, but without the fire to keep the wet-haired hobbit warm, he worried about the little one catching cold. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
He stood just outside the circle of firelight, where he could see his comrades but was hidden from them. Aragorn felt a tightness in his stomach that was only partially due to hunger. He was incredibly nervous. With Gandalf gone, he was on his own in leading the group, Pippin was hovering near death, and Lothlórien was still some days away. Aragorn leaned against a tree and covered his eyes with his hands, almost lapsing into the childhood belief that if one could not see one's problems, they were not really there.
"Aragorn?" a soft voice said at his side. Aragorn raised his head and looked into Boromir's kind grey eyes. "Would you mind coming with me to scout the perimeter of the camp?" This was an obvious invitation to talk privately but as warriors and males they would never have dreamed of coming right out and saying it.
"I will come with you," Aragorn answered, "but let me tell the others where we are going." He stepped back into the clearing. "Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and I are going to scout the area. While we are gone, douse the fire and start hiding the camp." The two new friends nodded. Aragorn let out a breath he'd been holding. Since the quest began, those two had been sniping at each other constantly, but he had started noticing a change in the elf and dwarf since they had gone to look for Pippin.
Boromir waited by the tree. His heart felt heavy for Aragorn, who he knew must be blaming himself for what had happened to Pippin. As their leader, he probably thought it was his duty to see to the welfare of everyone personally. Aragorn joined him again, and they started on their task. The two men walked in silence for a while until they came upon a smaller rock formation. This one with several stones in a circle was obviously meant for seating.
"Perhaps we should rest here for a moment." Aragorn suggested. Boromir nodded and they both sat on one of the stone benches. Boromir took a deep breath; he had decided it was time for the healer to be healed.
"Aragorn, you have now told us all of Pippin's condition, but what of yours?" The ranger looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked.
Boromir looked him in the eye. "The strain of both leading the company and tending to young Pippin's hurts is telling on you Aragorn. Though you may have been brought up and nurtured by elves and be betrothed to an elf, you are not one yourself. You must at least sleep sometime."
"I slept yesterday." Aragorn said defensively.
Boromir snorted. "For all of three hours, and then you had a half a bowl of stew and one dumpling, and that's been all for two days."
"I am afraid I have been... distracted."
"And for your treatments and care of Pippin we are all grateful. But it must be wearying to tend to so many hurts on such a small body." There was a short silence, and then Aragorn leaned forwards and with his elbows on his knees, covered his face with his hands. Wordlessly, Boromir reached out and embraced Aragorn's shoulders.
"He trusted me." Aragorn's voice had a slight hitch in it. "I said I would lead them and he trusted me. I have failed Pippin; I should have been paying more attention to him. I knew the hobbits were weary. I should not have pushed the company so fast." Drawing in a shuddering breath, Aragorn reached into his jerkin and brought something out. It was Pippin's scarf. Aragorn turned it over and over in his hands, looking at it. The soft grey wool, with the brightly coloured fringe on the end, and. the bloodstains that now marred the knit. It was stretched out of shape, and smelled foul.
"You cannot be responsible for every detail. You did an amazing feat, bringing us through the trackless pines and to the rocks. You were coping with Gandalf's..." Here Boromir's voice caught, "Gandalf's death. Though I knew him from when he would journey to Minas Tirith before the quest, I surely have not known him as you have, and his loss grieves me terribly. I cannot imagine what you must feel."
At this, Aragorn raised his head and gazed up at the sky. The last streaks of gold were clutching like greedy fingers at the coming night. Boromir was startled to see tears glistening on Aragorn's face.
"His death hangs heavy on us all." Aragorn finally said. "The grief at his loss is a wound that will never heal. But it is compounded by the dread responsibility I feel for what happened to Pippin. Gandalf would have kept the hobbits closer, he would have known that the little one was lagging behind and what happened would never have come to pass."
"For that I am as guilty as you." Boromir put his hand on his fellow Gondorian's shoulder. "I should have assumed your place at the rear of the company. You could not lead and shepherd Aragorn, Pippin's capture was more my fault than yours."
Aragorn looked at Boromir in surprise. It had not occurred to him before than any of the others were to blame for what had happened. "Nevertheless, I should have asked you to do that, I did not. I was too concerned with what was ahead to think of what was behind and for that Pippin suffered this terrible ordeal."
"Aragorn, we all know you would do anything to have him spared what happened, what he is now going through," Boromir looked earnestly into the ranger's grey eyes. "Even to bear the pain yourself, but it is not to be. Your guilt and remorse will not help Pippin now."
At that thought Aragorn spread his hands out before him, the palms held up. "These hands," he sighed. "I fear the skill in them is not enough. The others, especially the little ones, expect me to save Pippin, more than that, they trust me to heal him, but I do not know if it is truly in my power."
"They trust you to do your utmost." Boromir closed Aragorn's hands together between his own. "No more could anyone ask and no more can you do. Except maybe to trust in yourself a little more."
Aragorn's look of despair lifted a little as a small ray of hope crossed his face, "I will. You are right Boromir, it does not help the perian for me to believe the worst. Pippin not only needs healing hands he needs a healing mind to help him out of his black nightmare."
Looking back down at the scarf, Aragorn said, "I wonder if this will ever be as it was."
"It may have to be reknit, and cleaned, but yes, it can be as it was again." Boromir replied, taking the other end of the scarf in his hands.
"I do not know how to knit."
"Perhaps that will be a task for someone else. We can just keep it safe. You have done so much already for him Aragorn." Boromir stood and offered his hand to the Ranger. "Do not throw away the progress the little one has made by giving up now."
Aragorn folded Pippin's scarf and put it back inside his jerkin and taking the offered hand, joined Boromir on his feet. "I must not and will not betray the trust Gandalf put in me to lead and care for the Fellowship." The two Gondorians resumed their patrol. "He told me that hobbits are remarkable creatures and I am beginning to see that more and more. Pippin will recover and be made whole in mind and body. That belief is as important as the actions I now take."
****
Lugsta paced along the passageway to the chief's quarters with trepidation. he had been trying to think of what to tell the chief of His and Crugsyl's "mission". When he got to the florin spiked door, Skor swung it open without a word, though no doubt he noticed that only one of the pair had returned.
"Tha' took yer long enou'! Where's my warg? An' where's Crugsyl? Did yer finish it?"
Lugsta started to get nervous. His life hung on his ability to lie convincingly and well.
"I did, chief, but Crugsyl got hisself an' yer warg killed by the whiteskins..."
"WHAT?!" roared the chief. Lugsta backed up against the wall.
"It was like this, see, Crugsyl took yer warg with him to go and bring the whiteskins ter the bloodstone, and just when I was finishin' wi' the little rats tripes, 'e comes bustin' in ter th' clearing, see. An' then that elf they've got shot 'im wi' an arrow! Yer warg weren't wi' 'im, so's I figgered tha' 'e 'ad let 'er go an' gone an' been followed closer than 'e wanted by the buggers. So I left. But the Dogwhore's dead fer sure, chief." Lugsta finished lamely. Inwardly he cringed, just waiting for the chief to pick out the falsehood.
Then the chief did something completely unexpected. He threw back his hideous head and laughed. It was a terrible grating sound, but Lugsta chuckled along with him. When the chief stopped, he said to Lugsta, "Yeh've done well. Now Tha' troublemaker Crugsie's outtn ther way. Icefang pro'ly ran away from 'im, an' she'll come back. She alus does." The chief clapped Lugsta on the back with jarring force and laughed again. Lugsta did the same while inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. The chief had bought it. Now if he could just escape to the mess hall and pinch a cask of ale, he could forget about this whole ordeal and drink himself into a stupor in his quarters.
***
When the two returned to the clearing they could see the others had been busy. The campfire was now covered over by earth and the area was tidy and clear, the only visible signs by the rising moon that they were still there were seven neat bedrolls, each with a tidy pack laid on top and a little heap that was Pippin wrapped up in blankets with Icicle curled tightly around him.
None of the bedrolls was occupied yet. Gimli and Legolas were standing guard at the edge of the clearing, Merry and Frodo were sitting quietly near the sleeping Pippin and Sam was the other side sitting by Icicle and gently stroking her head.
Aragorn immediately went over to the hobbits and, petting Icicle gently first, brushed Pippin's hair back with his hand to feel his forehead. His temperature was somewhat high and he stirred at the touch, moaning and trying to move a little, but constricted by the bandages.
"I think I must unwrap him for a while," Aragorn explained to the others, the new approach of keeping them informed foremost in his mind. "Although the bandages will prevent further damage, they will have become soiled and he will benefit from a change of position."
"Can we help Aragorn?" Merry was the first to ask. "If you think it won't distress Pip too much."
"We'll see how he reacts." Aragorn promised. "Gimli could you take Icicle and Boromir if you and Legolas would lift him up I can remove the bandages more easily." The hobbits drew back to let the others reach Pippin.
"Sam could you find me some fresh material to replace this?" Aragorn remember he must not exclude the halflings. "Merry, Frodo, some clean water from the spring will be needed to wash Pippin with and some soapwort and lye as well." The hobbits hurried off to their allotted tasks, glad to each have something useful to do.
Legolas stroked the drowsy hobbit's head to be sure he was more aware of them. "Pippin, Pip," he whispered gently. "We're going to lift you up, but don't be afraid, Aragorn has to unbind you."
Pippin's eyes opened and he saw the others crowded round him and Umummmum was gone. Legolas was saying something. They were going to unbind him. Why? What were they going to do to him? Please, not that, not that, let it be the whip. The whip only hurt it did not make him feel so dirty, so degraded, so worthless.
Aragorn saw the panic and fear in Pippin's face and changed his mind. "Don't lift him right up, he's too agitated." Then he knelt beside Pippin and began to very slowly and gently undo the wrappings around his legs, murmuring softly the whole time. "There's nothing to be afraid of Pippin. I'm just undoing the bandages around here. They must be uncomfortable for you now. It's all right."
Legolas held Pippin's legs off the blanket slightly as Aragorn slid the loosened material underneath and gradually the soiled bandages lay on the ground. The ranger moved Pippin's legs gently to help restore the circulation, "There that must feel better, Pippin, is that more comfortable?"
Pippin heard the voice and saw the person manipulating his aching legs. It was the one who looked like Strider, the one he called Master. He was asking him questions again. Quick an answer, before the whip fell or a great hand cuffed him across the head. "Y-yes Master," he whispered.
Aragorn sighed. "I'm not your master, little one. I'm Aragorn, Strider, your friend." Pippin looked fearfully at the two great men and the elf and fell into silence once more, waiting for whatever they would do to him next. Sam arrived back with the clean bandages, followed shortly by Frodo and Merry.
The hobbits placed the warm water with the soapwort and lye at Pippin's feet and Merry looked hopefully up at the ranger. "May I talk to him Aragorn? Perhaps he will remember me now."
"All right Merry, but gently, don't rush him." Aragorn collected up the soiled bandages and turned to Boromir. "Could you put these to soak, I must wash them out so they can be re-used, our supplies are very limited."
"If you please, Mr Strider." Sam answered before the soldier could respond. "I'll take them and wash them. They'll be as clean as new."
"I'm sure Sam," Aragorn smiled and handed the eager to help hobbit the dirty material. "Will you wait for the rest, as I must replace most of the bindings?"
Merry meantime knelt by Pippin's head and touched his cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. "Pip? Pip my sweet, it's me, it's Merry. Aragorn is making you better, you'll be well again soon, my love."
Merry! Pippin's mind went into a panic. The others were here, they had untied him, untied his legs, trying to make him better again, that meant only one thing! He would let them do what they wanted, it was all he was fit for. Dogwhore and filthy slut, it was what Master made him say and it was true. But not Merry! No - how could they let Merry of all people touch him? Pippin found his voice. "Nooo! Please not you Merry, no! Don't please don't touch me. Please, please!"
"All right Pip, whatever you want my love, all right don't cry, please don't cry. I won't touch you, I promise." Merry moved back in horror and distress from Pippin's reaction to him.
Frodo caught his cousin's hand and drew him into an embrace. "Don't fret Merry, he'll come round in time. Just leave him to Strider for now. He doesn't know what he's saying."
Aragorn turned quickly back from Sam when he heard Pippin scream at Merry. He moved back to the injured hobbit's side and spoke gently to him, trying to calm his panic. "We're just cleaning you up Pippin. It's all right; we won't hurt you. Look at me, Pippin, please look at me." Aragorn steadied Pippin's head and turned his face to look into his eyes. "Pippin you're safe, it's all over. There are no orcs here, we're not going to do anything to harm you."
Pippin was forced to look at Aragorn now and whispered in his shaky voice. "I'm a-a b-bad h-h-hobbit, you g-got to make me b-better."
Aragorn furrowed his brow as he worked his way through this piece of twisted logic. Suddenly he realised that a choice of word was frightening Pippin. "We're healing your hurts, making you well, little one, not 'better'. You're not bad, Pippin, truly you are a very good and fine hobbit."
"N-no." Pippin struggled managing to pull his face from Aragorn's grasp and look away. "I'm bad hobbit, Master, I know it's m-my fault. I'm Dogwhore, a filthy slut!"
Merry could contain himself no longer. He wrenched out of Frodo's grasp and flew back to Pippin's side. "No Pippin you're a good and golden hobbit, nothing is your fault, you're none of those dreadful things. Pippin! You're my precious, darling boy. Please don't say such things!"
"Merry?" Pippin's voice was almost inaudible now. "Oh Merry, it's a d- dream." He mumbled, "I'm g-glad you n-not here Merry, this a bad, bad place."
"Pippin!" Merry held his little cousin's face. "I'm not a dream, I'm here and you're a good, good hobbit. You're my Pip and I'll never leave you." Merry turned back to the ranger. "Tell him Aragorn, please tell Pip he's good and I'm really here."
"Merry, he's just confused." Aragorn nodded to Frodo who took Merry's shoulders, gently pulling him away from Pippin again. "He doesn't dare to let himself believe he is safe yet. It will take time."
Aragorn gently bathed Pippin's lower body as Frodo led Merry away sobbing with anguish. He reapplied the healing herbs and new bandages.
As Merry was settled by Frodo on his bedroll the two hobbits looked back over to where Aragorn now sat nursing Pippin gently in his arms. The ranger rocked the now passive hobbit and sang to him softly, like a doting father with a newborn. "You see Merry," Frodo said kindly, "Pippin is in the best of hands for the time being. Aragorn is so caring to him, you must trust him."
"I do Frodo," Merry sniffed another tear back. "I trust him with my life, but Frodo, more importantly, I trust him with Pippin's life."
Pippin had calmed down and gazed up at the kind face of the ranger, convinced that the Valar in a brief moment of pity, had send him into a temporary sweet dream. He watched Aragorn's face and listened to the words, happy for once to fall asleep without Umummmum.
Sleep sweetly little one
don't be afraid,
I'll tell you the nice things
of which good dreams are made,
Soft dew-filled mornings
in the first haze of Spring,
Colour filled Summers,
a butterfly's wing.
Sleep gently little one
cry no more tears,
I'll chase away shadows
and vanish your fears
With tales of the woodlands
in Autumn's rich shades,
Ice bright blue Winters,
in beautiful glades.
Sleep deeply little one
nothing will harm you
I'll stay here beside you
Let nothing alarm you,
Close your eyes now
don't be afraid,
While I sing of the good things
from which sweet dreams are made.
**** This has been a Kookaburra/Llinos Co-production - all rights reserved.
Sweet Dreams © Liza Jones 2002.
Disclaimer: I do not own LotR or make any money from it.
Authors: Kookaburra, Llinos
Aragorn looked up at the blood red sky as the sun prepared to slip behind the Misty Mountains. They would have to douse the fire and hide the camp soon. He had wanted to get on with delousing Pippin, but without the fire to keep the wet-haired hobbit warm, he worried about the little one catching cold. It would have to wait until tomorrow.
He stood just outside the circle of firelight, where he could see his comrades but was hidden from them. Aragorn felt a tightness in his stomach that was only partially due to hunger. He was incredibly nervous. With Gandalf gone, he was on his own in leading the group, Pippin was hovering near death, and Lothlórien was still some days away. Aragorn leaned against a tree and covered his eyes with his hands, almost lapsing into the childhood belief that if one could not see one's problems, they were not really there.
"Aragorn?" a soft voice said at his side. Aragorn raised his head and looked into Boromir's kind grey eyes. "Would you mind coming with me to scout the perimeter of the camp?" This was an obvious invitation to talk privately but as warriors and males they would never have dreamed of coming right out and saying it.
"I will come with you," Aragorn answered, "but let me tell the others where we are going." He stepped back into the clearing. "Gimli, Legolas, Boromir and I are going to scout the area. While we are gone, douse the fire and start hiding the camp." The two new friends nodded. Aragorn let out a breath he'd been holding. Since the quest began, those two had been sniping at each other constantly, but he had started noticing a change in the elf and dwarf since they had gone to look for Pippin.
Boromir waited by the tree. His heart felt heavy for Aragorn, who he knew must be blaming himself for what had happened to Pippin. As their leader, he probably thought it was his duty to see to the welfare of everyone personally. Aragorn joined him again, and they started on their task. The two men walked in silence for a while until they came upon a smaller rock formation. This one with several stones in a circle was obviously meant for seating.
"Perhaps we should rest here for a moment." Aragorn suggested. Boromir nodded and they both sat on one of the stone benches. Boromir took a deep breath; he had decided it was time for the healer to be healed.
"Aragorn, you have now told us all of Pippin's condition, but what of yours?" The ranger looked up sharply.
"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked.
Boromir looked him in the eye. "The strain of both leading the company and tending to young Pippin's hurts is telling on you Aragorn. Though you may have been brought up and nurtured by elves and be betrothed to an elf, you are not one yourself. You must at least sleep sometime."
"I slept yesterday." Aragorn said defensively.
Boromir snorted. "For all of three hours, and then you had a half a bowl of stew and one dumpling, and that's been all for two days."
"I am afraid I have been... distracted."
"And for your treatments and care of Pippin we are all grateful. But it must be wearying to tend to so many hurts on such a small body." There was a short silence, and then Aragorn leaned forwards and with his elbows on his knees, covered his face with his hands. Wordlessly, Boromir reached out and embraced Aragorn's shoulders.
"He trusted me." Aragorn's voice had a slight hitch in it. "I said I would lead them and he trusted me. I have failed Pippin; I should have been paying more attention to him. I knew the hobbits were weary. I should not have pushed the company so fast." Drawing in a shuddering breath, Aragorn reached into his jerkin and brought something out. It was Pippin's scarf. Aragorn turned it over and over in his hands, looking at it. The soft grey wool, with the brightly coloured fringe on the end, and. the bloodstains that now marred the knit. It was stretched out of shape, and smelled foul.
"You cannot be responsible for every detail. You did an amazing feat, bringing us through the trackless pines and to the rocks. You were coping with Gandalf's..." Here Boromir's voice caught, "Gandalf's death. Though I knew him from when he would journey to Minas Tirith before the quest, I surely have not known him as you have, and his loss grieves me terribly. I cannot imagine what you must feel."
At this, Aragorn raised his head and gazed up at the sky. The last streaks of gold were clutching like greedy fingers at the coming night. Boromir was startled to see tears glistening on Aragorn's face.
"His death hangs heavy on us all." Aragorn finally said. "The grief at his loss is a wound that will never heal. But it is compounded by the dread responsibility I feel for what happened to Pippin. Gandalf would have kept the hobbits closer, he would have known that the little one was lagging behind and what happened would never have come to pass."
"For that I am as guilty as you." Boromir put his hand on his fellow Gondorian's shoulder. "I should have assumed your place at the rear of the company. You could not lead and shepherd Aragorn, Pippin's capture was more my fault than yours."
Aragorn looked at Boromir in surprise. It had not occurred to him before than any of the others were to blame for what had happened. "Nevertheless, I should have asked you to do that, I did not. I was too concerned with what was ahead to think of what was behind and for that Pippin suffered this terrible ordeal."
"Aragorn, we all know you would do anything to have him spared what happened, what he is now going through," Boromir looked earnestly into the ranger's grey eyes. "Even to bear the pain yourself, but it is not to be. Your guilt and remorse will not help Pippin now."
At that thought Aragorn spread his hands out before him, the palms held up. "These hands," he sighed. "I fear the skill in them is not enough. The others, especially the little ones, expect me to save Pippin, more than that, they trust me to heal him, but I do not know if it is truly in my power."
"They trust you to do your utmost." Boromir closed Aragorn's hands together between his own. "No more could anyone ask and no more can you do. Except maybe to trust in yourself a little more."
Aragorn's look of despair lifted a little as a small ray of hope crossed his face, "I will. You are right Boromir, it does not help the perian for me to believe the worst. Pippin not only needs healing hands he needs a healing mind to help him out of his black nightmare."
Looking back down at the scarf, Aragorn said, "I wonder if this will ever be as it was."
"It may have to be reknit, and cleaned, but yes, it can be as it was again." Boromir replied, taking the other end of the scarf in his hands.
"I do not know how to knit."
"Perhaps that will be a task for someone else. We can just keep it safe. You have done so much already for him Aragorn." Boromir stood and offered his hand to the Ranger. "Do not throw away the progress the little one has made by giving up now."
Aragorn folded Pippin's scarf and put it back inside his jerkin and taking the offered hand, joined Boromir on his feet. "I must not and will not betray the trust Gandalf put in me to lead and care for the Fellowship." The two Gondorians resumed their patrol. "He told me that hobbits are remarkable creatures and I am beginning to see that more and more. Pippin will recover and be made whole in mind and body. That belief is as important as the actions I now take."
****
Lugsta paced along the passageway to the chief's quarters with trepidation. he had been trying to think of what to tell the chief of His and Crugsyl's "mission". When he got to the florin spiked door, Skor swung it open without a word, though no doubt he noticed that only one of the pair had returned.
"Tha' took yer long enou'! Where's my warg? An' where's Crugsyl? Did yer finish it?"
Lugsta started to get nervous. His life hung on his ability to lie convincingly and well.
"I did, chief, but Crugsyl got hisself an' yer warg killed by the whiteskins..."
"WHAT?!" roared the chief. Lugsta backed up against the wall.
"It was like this, see, Crugsyl took yer warg with him to go and bring the whiteskins ter the bloodstone, and just when I was finishin' wi' the little rats tripes, 'e comes bustin' in ter th' clearing, see. An' then that elf they've got shot 'im wi' an arrow! Yer warg weren't wi' 'im, so's I figgered tha' 'e 'ad let 'er go an' gone an' been followed closer than 'e wanted by the buggers. So I left. But the Dogwhore's dead fer sure, chief." Lugsta finished lamely. Inwardly he cringed, just waiting for the chief to pick out the falsehood.
Then the chief did something completely unexpected. He threw back his hideous head and laughed. It was a terrible grating sound, but Lugsta chuckled along with him. When the chief stopped, he said to Lugsta, "Yeh've done well. Now Tha' troublemaker Crugsie's outtn ther way. Icefang pro'ly ran away from 'im, an' she'll come back. She alus does." The chief clapped Lugsta on the back with jarring force and laughed again. Lugsta did the same while inwardly breathing a sigh of relief. The chief had bought it. Now if he could just escape to the mess hall and pinch a cask of ale, he could forget about this whole ordeal and drink himself into a stupor in his quarters.
***
When the two returned to the clearing they could see the others had been busy. The campfire was now covered over by earth and the area was tidy and clear, the only visible signs by the rising moon that they were still there were seven neat bedrolls, each with a tidy pack laid on top and a little heap that was Pippin wrapped up in blankets with Icicle curled tightly around him.
None of the bedrolls was occupied yet. Gimli and Legolas were standing guard at the edge of the clearing, Merry and Frodo were sitting quietly near the sleeping Pippin and Sam was the other side sitting by Icicle and gently stroking her head.
Aragorn immediately went over to the hobbits and, petting Icicle gently first, brushed Pippin's hair back with his hand to feel his forehead. His temperature was somewhat high and he stirred at the touch, moaning and trying to move a little, but constricted by the bandages.
"I think I must unwrap him for a while," Aragorn explained to the others, the new approach of keeping them informed foremost in his mind. "Although the bandages will prevent further damage, they will have become soiled and he will benefit from a change of position."
"Can we help Aragorn?" Merry was the first to ask. "If you think it won't distress Pip too much."
"We'll see how he reacts." Aragorn promised. "Gimli could you take Icicle and Boromir if you and Legolas would lift him up I can remove the bandages more easily." The hobbits drew back to let the others reach Pippin.
"Sam could you find me some fresh material to replace this?" Aragorn remember he must not exclude the halflings. "Merry, Frodo, some clean water from the spring will be needed to wash Pippin with and some soapwort and lye as well." The hobbits hurried off to their allotted tasks, glad to each have something useful to do.
Legolas stroked the drowsy hobbit's head to be sure he was more aware of them. "Pippin, Pip," he whispered gently. "We're going to lift you up, but don't be afraid, Aragorn has to unbind you."
Pippin's eyes opened and he saw the others crowded round him and Umummmum was gone. Legolas was saying something. They were going to unbind him. Why? What were they going to do to him? Please, not that, not that, let it be the whip. The whip only hurt it did not make him feel so dirty, so degraded, so worthless.
Aragorn saw the panic and fear in Pippin's face and changed his mind. "Don't lift him right up, he's too agitated." Then he knelt beside Pippin and began to very slowly and gently undo the wrappings around his legs, murmuring softly the whole time. "There's nothing to be afraid of Pippin. I'm just undoing the bandages around here. They must be uncomfortable for you now. It's all right."
Legolas held Pippin's legs off the blanket slightly as Aragorn slid the loosened material underneath and gradually the soiled bandages lay on the ground. The ranger moved Pippin's legs gently to help restore the circulation, "There that must feel better, Pippin, is that more comfortable?"
Pippin heard the voice and saw the person manipulating his aching legs. It was the one who looked like Strider, the one he called Master. He was asking him questions again. Quick an answer, before the whip fell or a great hand cuffed him across the head. "Y-yes Master," he whispered.
Aragorn sighed. "I'm not your master, little one. I'm Aragorn, Strider, your friend." Pippin looked fearfully at the two great men and the elf and fell into silence once more, waiting for whatever they would do to him next. Sam arrived back with the clean bandages, followed shortly by Frodo and Merry.
The hobbits placed the warm water with the soapwort and lye at Pippin's feet and Merry looked hopefully up at the ranger. "May I talk to him Aragorn? Perhaps he will remember me now."
"All right Merry, but gently, don't rush him." Aragorn collected up the soiled bandages and turned to Boromir. "Could you put these to soak, I must wash them out so they can be re-used, our supplies are very limited."
"If you please, Mr Strider." Sam answered before the soldier could respond. "I'll take them and wash them. They'll be as clean as new."
"I'm sure Sam," Aragorn smiled and handed the eager to help hobbit the dirty material. "Will you wait for the rest, as I must replace most of the bindings?"
Merry meantime knelt by Pippin's head and touched his cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. "Pip? Pip my sweet, it's me, it's Merry. Aragorn is making you better, you'll be well again soon, my love."
Merry! Pippin's mind went into a panic. The others were here, they had untied him, untied his legs, trying to make him better again, that meant only one thing! He would let them do what they wanted, it was all he was fit for. Dogwhore and filthy slut, it was what Master made him say and it was true. But not Merry! No - how could they let Merry of all people touch him? Pippin found his voice. "Nooo! Please not you Merry, no! Don't please don't touch me. Please, please!"
"All right Pip, whatever you want my love, all right don't cry, please don't cry. I won't touch you, I promise." Merry moved back in horror and distress from Pippin's reaction to him.
Frodo caught his cousin's hand and drew him into an embrace. "Don't fret Merry, he'll come round in time. Just leave him to Strider for now. He doesn't know what he's saying."
Aragorn turned quickly back from Sam when he heard Pippin scream at Merry. He moved back to the injured hobbit's side and spoke gently to him, trying to calm his panic. "We're just cleaning you up Pippin. It's all right; we won't hurt you. Look at me, Pippin, please look at me." Aragorn steadied Pippin's head and turned his face to look into his eyes. "Pippin you're safe, it's all over. There are no orcs here, we're not going to do anything to harm you."
Pippin was forced to look at Aragorn now and whispered in his shaky voice. "I'm a-a b-bad h-h-hobbit, you g-got to make me b-better."
Aragorn furrowed his brow as he worked his way through this piece of twisted logic. Suddenly he realised that a choice of word was frightening Pippin. "We're healing your hurts, making you well, little one, not 'better'. You're not bad, Pippin, truly you are a very good and fine hobbit."
"N-no." Pippin struggled managing to pull his face from Aragorn's grasp and look away. "I'm bad hobbit, Master, I know it's m-my fault. I'm Dogwhore, a filthy slut!"
Merry could contain himself no longer. He wrenched out of Frodo's grasp and flew back to Pippin's side. "No Pippin you're a good and golden hobbit, nothing is your fault, you're none of those dreadful things. Pippin! You're my precious, darling boy. Please don't say such things!"
"Merry?" Pippin's voice was almost inaudible now. "Oh Merry, it's a d- dream." He mumbled, "I'm g-glad you n-not here Merry, this a bad, bad place."
"Pippin!" Merry held his little cousin's face. "I'm not a dream, I'm here and you're a good, good hobbit. You're my Pip and I'll never leave you." Merry turned back to the ranger. "Tell him Aragorn, please tell Pip he's good and I'm really here."
"Merry, he's just confused." Aragorn nodded to Frodo who took Merry's shoulders, gently pulling him away from Pippin again. "He doesn't dare to let himself believe he is safe yet. It will take time."
Aragorn gently bathed Pippin's lower body as Frodo led Merry away sobbing with anguish. He reapplied the healing herbs and new bandages.
As Merry was settled by Frodo on his bedroll the two hobbits looked back over to where Aragorn now sat nursing Pippin gently in his arms. The ranger rocked the now passive hobbit and sang to him softly, like a doting father with a newborn. "You see Merry," Frodo said kindly, "Pippin is in the best of hands for the time being. Aragorn is so caring to him, you must trust him."
"I do Frodo," Merry sniffed another tear back. "I trust him with my life, but Frodo, more importantly, I trust him with Pippin's life."
Pippin had calmed down and gazed up at the kind face of the ranger, convinced that the Valar in a brief moment of pity, had send him into a temporary sweet dream. He watched Aragorn's face and listened to the words, happy for once to fall asleep without Umummmum.
Sleep sweetly little one
don't be afraid,
I'll tell you the nice things
of which good dreams are made,
Soft dew-filled mornings
in the first haze of Spring,
Colour filled Summers,
a butterfly's wing.
Sleep gently little one
cry no more tears,
I'll chase away shadows
and vanish your fears
With tales of the woodlands
in Autumn's rich shades,
Ice bright blue Winters,
in beautiful glades.
Sleep deeply little one
nothing will harm you
I'll stay here beside you
Let nothing alarm you,
Close your eyes now
don't be afraid,
While I sing of the good things
from which sweet dreams are made.
**** This has been a Kookaburra/Llinos Co-production - all rights reserved.
Sweet Dreams © Liza Jones 2002.