Moria's Revenge, chapter 21: Counselled
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos
***
Merry watched as Silael and another elf finished bathing Pippin. They tutted over the vermin infesting his cousin's curls, but seemed to have no objection to Pippin sleeping on the wonderful bed. Silael then inspected the stitches on Pippin's mid section. After a few heartbeats he nodded sagely.
"Your Dunedin is very skilled with the needle, Merry. I could not have done a better job myself. When this wound is healed, your cousin will bear no more than a small scar, and even that might fade in time." Despite the elf's words, Merry felt a little chill. He tucked his knees up to his chin and looked at Pippin in silence. Silael looked at Merry sideways.
"You are troubled with something, something I have said?"
Merry looked up at him. "Oh, no, Sir. I was just...thinking about something."
"Whatever it is, it must be grave, for your face is darkened when you look at your young cousin."
Merry toyed with the embroidery pattern on the bedspread. "It's nothing, really."
"It is not 'nothing', young Merry." The elf sat down next to Merry so gently that the mattress hardly sank in. Silael drew Merry to his chest. "Now, little one, tell me of your thoughts, for I have been on middle earth for a few years more than you, and perhaps I can be of assistance in sorting out your musings."
Taking a deep breath, Merry looked up at Silael. "I-it's just...the orcs that, that...used him, they have probably almost forgotten about him by now, b-but..." Merry's voice threatened to break, "Poor Pip will have to live with this the rest of his life! It's not fair!" Merry practically wailed. Getting his thoughts out seemed to cause something to break inside of him, and he sobbed into the Healer's tunic.
Silael held the soggy perian for quite some time, murmuring comforting words into Merry's ear.
When Merry eventually managed to stop sobbing Silael soaked a cloth in cool water from one of the basins and bathed the hobbit's sore red eyes. "Now then, no more crying Merry, at least not in front of Pippin. You have to be strong for him."
"I know." Merry broke off with a little hiccup and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Silael handed him a towel.
"There is one very important thing I want you to remember, Merry." Silael took the hobbit's hands in his and looked steadily into his eyes. "Pippin may have been used by those foul creatures, but in the end he triumphed over them."
"How?" Merry looked at Silael in stunned amazement. "How can you say that? Look at him."
"I look - and I see a living, breathing halfling." Silael said simply. "Pippin triumphed over all of them by surviving. In spite of all they did to him, he refused to die. I want you to keep reminding him of that fact. He survived and that is very brave and very important."
"It is?" A glimmer of hope appeared on Merry's face.
"Yes, Merry it is." Silael eyes were full of sincerity. "Full grown men would have been taxed to physically endure that which your little cousin has lived through. I am filled with wonder at the perian."
"Oh then there is hope for him?" Even Merry's voice was a little lighter now. "That he will get better I mean?"
"As long as we tell him how wonderful he is to have survived." Silael reinforced. "Especially you, Merry. Pippin is not a victim, he is a hero, and that's what you have to make him understand."
"But he won't let me near him." Merry shook his head in despair. "Every time I'm near him he gets afraid and thinks I will do something to him."
"And when something unpleasant but necessary is being done to him, until he understands it is for his own good, you must stay away." Silael agreed "But the rest of the time I want you to be with him as much as you can."
"Really?" Merry was surprised by this turn of events, he had become so used to Strider shooing him away from Pippin all the time he was beginning to think he could never be close to his cousin again.
"Do not attempt to touch him or do anything he doesn't want you to do." Silael warned. "Do not even speak if that upsets him. Don't get too close, where you are now is sufficient."
"I will stay here as much as I can." Merry smiled at last. "Should I sleep here as well?"
"Yes, as long as you are sure you won't disturb him." Silael stood up and reached over to stroke Pippin's cheek gently with the back of his finger. The perian sniffed and twitched a little at the touch. "I must speak with the Dunedin now. I need to know more about his ailments and treatments. You will stay here and watch him Merry?"
"Of course." Merry felt happier than he had since they had left Rivendell. His face lit up with a smile that nobody had seen since then. "I will watch until my eyes fall out!"
Silael laughed, "Well I hope that will not be necessary. I will be back before then. Before I go, just repeat to me, what is the one important thing you have to remember?"
Merry drew a deep breath and raised his eyes to the elf, meeting his gaze firmly. "That Pippin triumphed over them all because he survived and that was a very brave and important thing to do."
"Well done, Merry." Silael patted his shoulder. "I think you are both going to be all right. Come, Naneth." He said to Icicle. To Merry's surprise the wolf jumped up and followed the elf out the door, only pausing for one last look at Pippin's still form on the bed.
***
Frodo glumly unpacked his luggage in the pavilion the elves had set up for the Fellowship. As he arranged each item, Sam silently picked it up and set it in a new (and more convenient place.) Frodo could not stop thinking about Pippin's cries when Aragorn was healing him, or the fear in his young kin's eyes. The Ring started to weigh heavily on its chain. 'Curse the thing. If it wasn't for the Ring, Pip could still be happy and free in the Shire. No, that's not true. If it wasn't for YOU, Master Baggins, he would be back in the Shire, Elrond did not want him to come, but oh, no, you were too selfish to...'
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice interrupted Frodo's reverie. "What are you thinking about?"
Frodo frowned in annoyance. "Nothing, Sam." he replied distractedly.
Sam smiled to himself. Frodo was taking out every pair of under-breeches he had in his pack and was folding and refolding them. "You are not thinking about exactly how many clean pairs of unmentionables you have, I know that, Mr. Frodo."
Frodo blinked and his eyes focussed on the underwear covered bed in front of him. "Oh, I uh, I was, um..." Frodo fumbled for a response.
Boromir stood quietly just inside the tent's entrance, watching the two hobbits sadly. It was very hard on Frodo, especially to be separated from young Pippin, he knew. It ground on the Gondorians heart to see such usually merry beings so morose. Boromir cleared his throat and stepped into the tent. Both hobbits looked up at him.
"Hullo, Mr. Boromir." greeted Sam.
Boromir smiled back at him and seated himself in the middle of one of the large, soft couches. "How are you both now?"
Frodo shrugged, somewhat lost for words. The automatic 'very well' greeting just seemed inappropriate. "I don't know - how are you?"
"Lonely," Boromir admitted. "I find it difficult to chat to elves."
"Legolas is all right isn't he?" Frodo came to sit on the couch next to him.
"Yes of course," Boromir smiled. "But he doesn't really know how to make small talk."
"Well seems to me neither do big men, from what I've seen." Sam said almost absentmindedly.
"Sam!" Frodo nodded towards Boromir with a slight frown that the man was not supposed to see.
"Begging your pardon and all Mr. Boromir," Sam added hastily, "it's just that, I never really talked. that is. I mean."
"What he's trying to say." Frodo interrupted with a broad smile, "is that we've never heard you men tell long tales like hobbits do. I suppose you don't have much time for tale-telling in Gondor."
"Well, we do have stories," he frowned a little trying to think of one.
'Tell them a funny story, something to cheer them up.' Boromir thought and then rummaged around in his memories of his childhood in Minas Tirith for something suitable.
The selection was thin, as maturing under the threat of the Shadow left little time for play and merriment as Sam had suggested. He then recalled a memory that might be worth telling. 'No, I can't tell them THAT story, they will never again respect me. And will it not make them grieve more, as Mithrandir had a part to play. But it will help them remember him as he was in life. Oh, if it makes them laugh it will be worth it.'
"Very well," Boromir patted the couch on his other side, "Come on Sam, sit here and I'll tell you a story of Minas Tirith."
Sam pattered over with a big smile and sat were indicated, both he and Frodo wriggled to get comfortable and then waited expectantly, all hobbits loved long tales.
"One day long ago, some ambassadors from the far south came to Minas Tirith for negotiations with my father. Gandalf was also present in the White City at this time."
"What kind of negotiations, Mr. Boromir?" asked Sam.
"I do not remember. It is not important to the tale, little one. As the discussions were likely to last some time, the emissaries brought with them entourages." At the hobbits confused looks, he clarified, "Households. Among them were many boys of an age to be companions for my brother and me. It was several weeks into the negotiations that my story takes place.
On this particular day, it was raining incredibly hard. Some of the young lords and my younger brother Faramir and I had taken to spending quite a bit of time with each other. This was well and good when the outdoors were open to us, and we could release our youthful, ahem, exuberance."
Frodo grinned up at Boromir. The thought of the stern warrior ever having "youthful exuberance" was an amusing one. Boromir continued: "We were incredibly bored, as, there was nothing to do inside except for talk, and none of us was old enough yet to have learned the art of stimulating conversation. As a result, eventually the talk degenerated into an argument as to which nation had better riders. Faramir and I were game for the disagreement, as it was raining and we assumed that neither side would have an opportunity to prove itself correct. Doubtless that was what the other boys thought as well.
Unfortunately, to illustrate his point, one of the young men from the south brought up the example of riding in the rain. He suggested that we of Gondor were not as advanced as them, as we had no indoor riding rings for inclement weather."
Sam looked at Boromir wide-eyed. "INDOOR riding rings? But how...?"
"It is simply a large flat area, filled with dirt or other footing and covered. I have seen them with nothing more than tent canvas to grand brick halls. Of course, my brother and I could not let that statement stand. I came up with what I then thought a brilliant idea. I sent a page to the stables and asked that all of our personal horses be made ready, then as a troop, all of us went down to one of the reception halls on the ground floor. This particular hall was ideal, for it had an immense rug that was about sixty by one hundred and eighty cubits, and was nailed down. There were also many chairs, tables and sofas."
"Oh, no, Boromir...you didn't..." Frodo breathed.
"Oh, yes. We did. While the grooms were readying our mounts, we arranged the pieces of furniture into a decent leaping course."
By this time both hobbits were shaking with suppressed laughter. Boromir took this as a good sign. "I still remember the look on the head groom's face when we grabbed the horses and took them inside the palace. He must have thought we were crazy. Which would have been quite accurate actually.
The course itself rode rather well, and all of the boys made it around easily, but by that time we were having too much fun to remember that we were supposed to be judging comparative horsemanship. Our laughter attracted some of the young ladies of the court, and several of them sent for their steeds, and some just watched. They actually helped us change the course around a couple times as well.
Faramir was in the middle of his second go-round, when suddenly; from the doorway, 'WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S SACRED DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!' rang out. I can still remember the way that everything stopped dead. Mithran- sorry, Gandalf stood in the doorway.
I was hard put to think up an answer, as it was quite obvious to anyone who had the sense the Valar gave gravel exactly what we were doing. For the first time, I really looked around the hall. The rug was ruined beyond repair, and the floor in that room was wood, so much of that would have to be replaced. Several pieces of furniture had chunks missing where horses had kicked them. Finally Gandalf spoke again. 'You do realize that this room is damaged permanently and many things will have to be replaced.' We all nodded dumbly. The full weight of my idiocy was only just beginning to occur to me. Gandalf sighed. 'But your father will be out of council for several more hours. He will not learn of this from me on one condition. That I get to ride too! Now where's a blasted groom...' so he sent for his horse, and we all made the most of what were likely to be our last hours on Middle-Earth. The depressing thing is, that the old man could out-ride any of us. He had the servants set furniture so that it was much higher than any of us would dare, and by Elbereth, he rode his horse over it!"
Frodo and Sam were doubled up in hysterics, tears running down their cheeks. "I wish," gasped Frodo, "I could have seen that! Oh my, Gandalf in his robes and that ridiculous hat! Jumping...hee hee...jumping over furniture!"
"I think Gandalf truly meant to take his leave of us before my father came out of council, but he did not. It was actually Faramir who noticed our father standing in the doorway, with a look of horror upon his face. I am afraid I do not remember much of what he screamed at us, but I do remember wondering if I would live to see the morrow. Also I recall, the endless hours of cleaning the stables for a month afterwards and hauling water buckets, as well as not being allowed personal groomsmen until I reached my twentieth year. I have a feeling that that incident was what really made my father doubt Mithrandir's council ever after."
Boromir looked down at the two halflings, who were now practically rolling on the floor in helpless mirth.
****
Haldir braced himself. He was outside of the pavilion set up for the halflings. From inside came sounds of happy chattering. 'How can just two of the little blighters make so much noise?' He thought. Taking another deep breath, he decided to work out a strategy for 'stewarding' the halflings. Perhaps if he did an exemplary job, Galadriel would take him from this torture and send him back to the border. Yes, that was it. He would see to it that the whole Fellowship wanted for nothing, and that the hobbits would not suffer so much as a scrape while in Lórien. Haldir pushed open the tent flap.
Boromir looked up to see who had entered, and stiffened at the sight of the elf who had treated them with such hostility.
"Greetings and salutations. Haldir, I believe it was?" At the elf's nod, Boromir asked. "And what brings you to our humble abode this evening, Master Haldir?"
"I am here to make certain that you find your lodgings comfortable. And to see if there is anything else you would like." Haldir strained to keep his voice from reflecting his outrage at being made to dote on the travellers.
Boromir considered what would likely do the most good for Frodo and Sam. "Could you possibly acquire some nourishment, and then take us to visit Peregrin?"
Frodo gasped. "Oh, Boromir! Could we really see him?"
Haldir nodded stiffly. I will see what I can do." He turned and left.
****
"Aragorn!" Silael knew the ranger from before. In the past the healer had many times visited Rivendell to consult with Lord Elrond and remembered his adopted son as an apt pupil. "I need to consult with you."
"Of course," Aragorn stood up from the table where he, Legolas and Gimli were seated at their evening meal. Icicle went immediately for the bowl Gimli placed on the ground, filled with choice morsels. "Will you join us? Or would you prefer to walk?"
"No I shall join you," Silael sat between Aragorn's place and Legolas, "although I fear my conversation may not be a suitable dining diversion."
"That's all right," Aragorn sat down again as the others nodded their assent, "we understand. You obviously need to discuss Pippin."
"And his companion, Merry," Silael could feel the other perian was suffering on behalf of his injured cousin. "Although I agree with your approach that the injuries must be mended first. Nevertheless, I feel the time has come for some psychological healing and I think that Merry can be the driving force behind this - Pippin's and his own."
"I have endeavoured to keep them distant," Aragorn explained, "I was chiefly concerned with keeping Pippin alive, which necessitated hurting him further."
"I understand," Silael smiled fondly at his former pupil. "and very wise you were, too. But now the time has come to reunite them and let Pippin know he is the victor and not the victim."
"How so, Sir Healer?" Gimli was not sure that the little one would be able to cope with this strange idea. "He has not truly been avenged of those filthy creatures yet."
"Oh but he has, Master Dwarf," Silael turned to the frowning Gimli with a slight flash of something, not anger - determination. "It will not take an axe to beat those creatures into submission. The perian has the true victory, they failed for he will remain pure in heart and thought, no orc can take that from him, I am certain."
"He has a very low opinion of himself at the moment." Gimli put in, "he thinks he is no better than an orc's dog or whore."
"Well we will soon change that view." Silael said firmly. "Trust me my friends, I have not yet spoken with the small perian, he is still sleeping, but I feel his mind and that of his cousin. There is a deep innocence and purity there, such as I have seldom encountered in elf or dwarf or man, it is that which will be his salvation."
"Silael, you are truly a great healer," Aragorn bowed his head to the elf, "and I trust that your words will become truth before long."
"Now you must explain to me in detail Aragorn all the physical hurts that I need to deal with." Silael poured himself a goblet of wine from the jug on the table. "
****
Haldir accompanied Frodo, Sam and Boromir to the Healing Chamber. "I do not know whether you will be admitted," The elf remarked trying not to sound too haughty, "They may not want you to see your companion yet."
"Well they will let us know how he is at least." Frodo looked expectantly up at the tall elf, waiting for him to request admittance for them.
"Very well." Haldir struck the small gong beside the entrance. An elf dressed all in white came to the door. "These travellers." Haldir indicated the man and the two hobbits, "wish to see the injured perian. Is he able to receive them?"
"He still sleeps," said the elf in white in a whisper. "But they are welcome to come and look at him. Also his cousin is sitting with him and may be glad of company."
The three were ushered into the inner room where Pippin lay, with Haldir following in attendance. Merry looked up as they entered and put his finger to his lips, warning them not to wake Pippin. They came over to the big bed and, like Merry, Sam and Frodo could hardly see over the top, so tall was it. Boromir lifted them both up to sit by Merry.
"How is he?" Frodo whispered. "Has he woken at all?"
"He stirred a little earlier on," Merry bent his head close to his older cousin to avoid too much noise, "but he went straight back to sleep. It's the longest he's been asleep since. since."
"We know, Merry." Frodo laid his hand on Merry's shoulder comfortingly. "He does look a lot more peaceful."
"That is the blessed enchantment of the Lady Galadriel." Haldir spoke unexpectedly. The hobbits and Boromir all turned to look at him in surprise. "The perian was fortunate to receive her care."
"And why should he not?" Boromir asked through gritted teeth. "He has committed no crime."
"As you say." Haldir deferred not willing to get into an argument with the warrior.
Whether it was the hushed talking or the proximity of the others that disturbed him they could not tell, but Pippin stirred again now and blearily opened his eyes. The healer elf dressed in white was at his side in a heartbeat. He took Pippin's hand and soothed his forehead.
But Pippin would not be soothed. He looked wildly around and flew back into his accustomed realm of panic and dread. Trying to escape the touch and cringing away from the white clad elf in terror. But the elf held his hand and would not let him move away, holding him firmly in place with his other hand now, keeping him pinned down on the bed.
"Does he normally struggle so?" The elf asked whilst never taking his eyes off his struggling patient.
"Yes," Merry whispered. "Often he does, usually Aragorn can stop him or Boromir." Merry nodded towards the Gondorian.
"But only by force," Boromir confessed. "It does not truly calm him. "We fear he may hurt himself."
"Come now then and hold him." The elf suggested. "I do not wish to introduce a new terror into his life, he is already familiar with you."
Boromir came to Pippin's side of the bed and lifted the struggling hobbit into his arms. "It's all right Pippin. Don't be afraid, I've got you safely now, lie still little one, please." Pippin eventually quieted under the familiar tone of Boromir's voice, although he continued to look fearfully around him even when he was laid back on the bed again.
"As you have come," the healer turned to the others now, perhaps you could help me to do something to help the little one."
"Of course," said Frodo, "Anything we can."
"Silael instructed that as soon as he woke I must send young Master Merry away," the elf lifted Merry down from the bed with an apologetic look, "as I need to begin de-lousing the little one."
****
It took a long time for Aragorn to describe all of Pippin's ills, not just his physical injuries but also the venereal disease and the psychological trauma. The ranger even described details of Pippin's infestation and what he thought was the best form of treatment.
"And what of you my friend?" The elven healer asked Aragorn. "You are sore in body and heart. I would ask that you take your rest now and let us tend to the little one. He will want for nothing."
"Silael is wise in his assessment." Legolas looked warily at his friend. "You must release Pippin to their care now, or the strain will take its toll of you also."
"I thank you for your care." Aragorn did now breathe a sigh of relief. "I will not deny that it has been a burden and a worry, but one that I would gladly carry if only to see the little one survive and be well again. I feel it was my fault that this happened to him in the first place and, of course, I was responsible for his care in any case."
"There is no purpose or gain in regretting the past," Silael said wisely. "You treated him with great skill and care, it is also because of you that he survived." Silael looked at the other two, "because of all of you. The perian is fortunate to have such friends."
"Please let us know what we can do to help," Legolas added. "Anything to make him whole again, if it is in my power, I will give."
"Aye," Gimli nodded. "I too will do whatever I am able - just ask it."
"You mentioned a scarf, Aragorn." Silael said, "Do you still have it?"
Aragorn took the tattered, stained garment from his jerkin. "I was going to try and repair it, but I do not have the skill."
Silael took it from him, "I will wash it. The tears will be mended, perhaps it should be reknit, but it will help I think. You say Aragorn that he has only been nourished by the warg?"
"Yes, I did not try to feed him anything else," Aragorn explained. "I believe that fasting will help to purge his system to cure the syphilis."
"And you still have the mushrooms to treat the disease?"
"Samwise put them with the other supplies," The ranger told him.
The healer then turned to Legolas and Gimli. "The first request for help I make from you both may seem a little strange," Silael smiled a little. "Could you milk the warg for me? I need the blessed mother's milk help the perian to take the mushroom."
****
TBC
To anyone who is reading this:
This story is the repost of the NC-17 fic "Moria's Revenge". If you wish to read the whole original NC-17 version (chapters 5 and 7 are more graphic, that's all that's been changed) click on the link below, or cut and paste it into your browser. It is still a work in progress, and I am reuploading the chapters to ff.net as fast as I can. The chapters go up through 31 so far, and 32 is on its way soon (hopefully).
http://www.nindaiwe.com/cgi- bin/stories/display.cgi?id=515&sort=date&cat=11
Authors: Kookaburra & Llinos
***
Merry watched as Silael and another elf finished bathing Pippin. They tutted over the vermin infesting his cousin's curls, but seemed to have no objection to Pippin sleeping on the wonderful bed. Silael then inspected the stitches on Pippin's mid section. After a few heartbeats he nodded sagely.
"Your Dunedin is very skilled with the needle, Merry. I could not have done a better job myself. When this wound is healed, your cousin will bear no more than a small scar, and even that might fade in time." Despite the elf's words, Merry felt a little chill. He tucked his knees up to his chin and looked at Pippin in silence. Silael looked at Merry sideways.
"You are troubled with something, something I have said?"
Merry looked up at him. "Oh, no, Sir. I was just...thinking about something."
"Whatever it is, it must be grave, for your face is darkened when you look at your young cousin."
Merry toyed with the embroidery pattern on the bedspread. "It's nothing, really."
"It is not 'nothing', young Merry." The elf sat down next to Merry so gently that the mattress hardly sank in. Silael drew Merry to his chest. "Now, little one, tell me of your thoughts, for I have been on middle earth for a few years more than you, and perhaps I can be of assistance in sorting out your musings."
Taking a deep breath, Merry looked up at Silael. "I-it's just...the orcs that, that...used him, they have probably almost forgotten about him by now, b-but..." Merry's voice threatened to break, "Poor Pip will have to live with this the rest of his life! It's not fair!" Merry practically wailed. Getting his thoughts out seemed to cause something to break inside of him, and he sobbed into the Healer's tunic.
Silael held the soggy perian for quite some time, murmuring comforting words into Merry's ear.
When Merry eventually managed to stop sobbing Silael soaked a cloth in cool water from one of the basins and bathed the hobbit's sore red eyes. "Now then, no more crying Merry, at least not in front of Pippin. You have to be strong for him."
"I know." Merry broke off with a little hiccup and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeve. Silael handed him a towel.
"There is one very important thing I want you to remember, Merry." Silael took the hobbit's hands in his and looked steadily into his eyes. "Pippin may have been used by those foul creatures, but in the end he triumphed over them."
"How?" Merry looked at Silael in stunned amazement. "How can you say that? Look at him."
"I look - and I see a living, breathing halfling." Silael said simply. "Pippin triumphed over all of them by surviving. In spite of all they did to him, he refused to die. I want you to keep reminding him of that fact. He survived and that is very brave and very important."
"It is?" A glimmer of hope appeared on Merry's face.
"Yes, Merry it is." Silael eyes were full of sincerity. "Full grown men would have been taxed to physically endure that which your little cousin has lived through. I am filled with wonder at the perian."
"Oh then there is hope for him?" Even Merry's voice was a little lighter now. "That he will get better I mean?"
"As long as we tell him how wonderful he is to have survived." Silael reinforced. "Especially you, Merry. Pippin is not a victim, he is a hero, and that's what you have to make him understand."
"But he won't let me near him." Merry shook his head in despair. "Every time I'm near him he gets afraid and thinks I will do something to him."
"And when something unpleasant but necessary is being done to him, until he understands it is for his own good, you must stay away." Silael agreed "But the rest of the time I want you to be with him as much as you can."
"Really?" Merry was surprised by this turn of events, he had become so used to Strider shooing him away from Pippin all the time he was beginning to think he could never be close to his cousin again.
"Do not attempt to touch him or do anything he doesn't want you to do." Silael warned. "Do not even speak if that upsets him. Don't get too close, where you are now is sufficient."
"I will stay here as much as I can." Merry smiled at last. "Should I sleep here as well?"
"Yes, as long as you are sure you won't disturb him." Silael stood up and reached over to stroke Pippin's cheek gently with the back of his finger. The perian sniffed and twitched a little at the touch. "I must speak with the Dunedin now. I need to know more about his ailments and treatments. You will stay here and watch him Merry?"
"Of course." Merry felt happier than he had since they had left Rivendell. His face lit up with a smile that nobody had seen since then. "I will watch until my eyes fall out!"
Silael laughed, "Well I hope that will not be necessary. I will be back before then. Before I go, just repeat to me, what is the one important thing you have to remember?"
Merry drew a deep breath and raised his eyes to the elf, meeting his gaze firmly. "That Pippin triumphed over them all because he survived and that was a very brave and important thing to do."
"Well done, Merry." Silael patted his shoulder. "I think you are both going to be all right. Come, Naneth." He said to Icicle. To Merry's surprise the wolf jumped up and followed the elf out the door, only pausing for one last look at Pippin's still form on the bed.
***
Frodo glumly unpacked his luggage in the pavilion the elves had set up for the Fellowship. As he arranged each item, Sam silently picked it up and set it in a new (and more convenient place.) Frodo could not stop thinking about Pippin's cries when Aragorn was healing him, or the fear in his young kin's eyes. The Ring started to weigh heavily on its chain. 'Curse the thing. If it wasn't for the Ring, Pip could still be happy and free in the Shire. No, that's not true. If it wasn't for YOU, Master Baggins, he would be back in the Shire, Elrond did not want him to come, but oh, no, you were too selfish to...'
"Mr. Frodo?" Sam's voice interrupted Frodo's reverie. "What are you thinking about?"
Frodo frowned in annoyance. "Nothing, Sam." he replied distractedly.
Sam smiled to himself. Frodo was taking out every pair of under-breeches he had in his pack and was folding and refolding them. "You are not thinking about exactly how many clean pairs of unmentionables you have, I know that, Mr. Frodo."
Frodo blinked and his eyes focussed on the underwear covered bed in front of him. "Oh, I uh, I was, um..." Frodo fumbled for a response.
Boromir stood quietly just inside the tent's entrance, watching the two hobbits sadly. It was very hard on Frodo, especially to be separated from young Pippin, he knew. It ground on the Gondorians heart to see such usually merry beings so morose. Boromir cleared his throat and stepped into the tent. Both hobbits looked up at him.
"Hullo, Mr. Boromir." greeted Sam.
Boromir smiled back at him and seated himself in the middle of one of the large, soft couches. "How are you both now?"
Frodo shrugged, somewhat lost for words. The automatic 'very well' greeting just seemed inappropriate. "I don't know - how are you?"
"Lonely," Boromir admitted. "I find it difficult to chat to elves."
"Legolas is all right isn't he?" Frodo came to sit on the couch next to him.
"Yes of course," Boromir smiled. "But he doesn't really know how to make small talk."
"Well seems to me neither do big men, from what I've seen." Sam said almost absentmindedly.
"Sam!" Frodo nodded towards Boromir with a slight frown that the man was not supposed to see.
"Begging your pardon and all Mr. Boromir," Sam added hastily, "it's just that, I never really talked. that is. I mean."
"What he's trying to say." Frodo interrupted with a broad smile, "is that we've never heard you men tell long tales like hobbits do. I suppose you don't have much time for tale-telling in Gondor."
"Well, we do have stories," he frowned a little trying to think of one.
'Tell them a funny story, something to cheer them up.' Boromir thought and then rummaged around in his memories of his childhood in Minas Tirith for something suitable.
The selection was thin, as maturing under the threat of the Shadow left little time for play and merriment as Sam had suggested. He then recalled a memory that might be worth telling. 'No, I can't tell them THAT story, they will never again respect me. And will it not make them grieve more, as Mithrandir had a part to play. But it will help them remember him as he was in life. Oh, if it makes them laugh it will be worth it.'
"Very well," Boromir patted the couch on his other side, "Come on Sam, sit here and I'll tell you a story of Minas Tirith."
Sam pattered over with a big smile and sat were indicated, both he and Frodo wriggled to get comfortable and then waited expectantly, all hobbits loved long tales.
"One day long ago, some ambassadors from the far south came to Minas Tirith for negotiations with my father. Gandalf was also present in the White City at this time."
"What kind of negotiations, Mr. Boromir?" asked Sam.
"I do not remember. It is not important to the tale, little one. As the discussions were likely to last some time, the emissaries brought with them entourages." At the hobbits confused looks, he clarified, "Households. Among them were many boys of an age to be companions for my brother and me. It was several weeks into the negotiations that my story takes place.
On this particular day, it was raining incredibly hard. Some of the young lords and my younger brother Faramir and I had taken to spending quite a bit of time with each other. This was well and good when the outdoors were open to us, and we could release our youthful, ahem, exuberance."
Frodo grinned up at Boromir. The thought of the stern warrior ever having "youthful exuberance" was an amusing one. Boromir continued: "We were incredibly bored, as, there was nothing to do inside except for talk, and none of us was old enough yet to have learned the art of stimulating conversation. As a result, eventually the talk degenerated into an argument as to which nation had better riders. Faramir and I were game for the disagreement, as it was raining and we assumed that neither side would have an opportunity to prove itself correct. Doubtless that was what the other boys thought as well.
Unfortunately, to illustrate his point, one of the young men from the south brought up the example of riding in the rain. He suggested that we of Gondor were not as advanced as them, as we had no indoor riding rings for inclement weather."
Sam looked at Boromir wide-eyed. "INDOOR riding rings? But how...?"
"It is simply a large flat area, filled with dirt or other footing and covered. I have seen them with nothing more than tent canvas to grand brick halls. Of course, my brother and I could not let that statement stand. I came up with what I then thought a brilliant idea. I sent a page to the stables and asked that all of our personal horses be made ready, then as a troop, all of us went down to one of the reception halls on the ground floor. This particular hall was ideal, for it had an immense rug that was about sixty by one hundred and eighty cubits, and was nailed down. There were also many chairs, tables and sofas."
"Oh, no, Boromir...you didn't..." Frodo breathed.
"Oh, yes. We did. While the grooms were readying our mounts, we arranged the pieces of furniture into a decent leaping course."
By this time both hobbits were shaking with suppressed laughter. Boromir took this as a good sign. "I still remember the look on the head groom's face when we grabbed the horses and took them inside the palace. He must have thought we were crazy. Which would have been quite accurate actually.
The course itself rode rather well, and all of the boys made it around easily, but by that time we were having too much fun to remember that we were supposed to be judging comparative horsemanship. Our laughter attracted some of the young ladies of the court, and several of them sent for their steeds, and some just watched. They actually helped us change the course around a couple times as well.
Faramir was in the middle of his second go-round, when suddenly; from the doorway, 'WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT'S SACRED DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING!' rang out. I can still remember the way that everything stopped dead. Mithran- sorry, Gandalf stood in the doorway.
I was hard put to think up an answer, as it was quite obvious to anyone who had the sense the Valar gave gravel exactly what we were doing. For the first time, I really looked around the hall. The rug was ruined beyond repair, and the floor in that room was wood, so much of that would have to be replaced. Several pieces of furniture had chunks missing where horses had kicked them. Finally Gandalf spoke again. 'You do realize that this room is damaged permanently and many things will have to be replaced.' We all nodded dumbly. The full weight of my idiocy was only just beginning to occur to me. Gandalf sighed. 'But your father will be out of council for several more hours. He will not learn of this from me on one condition. That I get to ride too! Now where's a blasted groom...' so he sent for his horse, and we all made the most of what were likely to be our last hours on Middle-Earth. The depressing thing is, that the old man could out-ride any of us. He had the servants set furniture so that it was much higher than any of us would dare, and by Elbereth, he rode his horse over it!"
Frodo and Sam were doubled up in hysterics, tears running down their cheeks. "I wish," gasped Frodo, "I could have seen that! Oh my, Gandalf in his robes and that ridiculous hat! Jumping...hee hee...jumping over furniture!"
"I think Gandalf truly meant to take his leave of us before my father came out of council, but he did not. It was actually Faramir who noticed our father standing in the doorway, with a look of horror upon his face. I am afraid I do not remember much of what he screamed at us, but I do remember wondering if I would live to see the morrow. Also I recall, the endless hours of cleaning the stables for a month afterwards and hauling water buckets, as well as not being allowed personal groomsmen until I reached my twentieth year. I have a feeling that that incident was what really made my father doubt Mithrandir's council ever after."
Boromir looked down at the two halflings, who were now practically rolling on the floor in helpless mirth.
****
Haldir braced himself. He was outside of the pavilion set up for the halflings. From inside came sounds of happy chattering. 'How can just two of the little blighters make so much noise?' He thought. Taking another deep breath, he decided to work out a strategy for 'stewarding' the halflings. Perhaps if he did an exemplary job, Galadriel would take him from this torture and send him back to the border. Yes, that was it. He would see to it that the whole Fellowship wanted for nothing, and that the hobbits would not suffer so much as a scrape while in Lórien. Haldir pushed open the tent flap.
Boromir looked up to see who had entered, and stiffened at the sight of the elf who had treated them with such hostility.
"Greetings and salutations. Haldir, I believe it was?" At the elf's nod, Boromir asked. "And what brings you to our humble abode this evening, Master Haldir?"
"I am here to make certain that you find your lodgings comfortable. And to see if there is anything else you would like." Haldir strained to keep his voice from reflecting his outrage at being made to dote on the travellers.
Boromir considered what would likely do the most good for Frodo and Sam. "Could you possibly acquire some nourishment, and then take us to visit Peregrin?"
Frodo gasped. "Oh, Boromir! Could we really see him?"
Haldir nodded stiffly. I will see what I can do." He turned and left.
****
"Aragorn!" Silael knew the ranger from before. In the past the healer had many times visited Rivendell to consult with Lord Elrond and remembered his adopted son as an apt pupil. "I need to consult with you."
"Of course," Aragorn stood up from the table where he, Legolas and Gimli were seated at their evening meal. Icicle went immediately for the bowl Gimli placed on the ground, filled with choice morsels. "Will you join us? Or would you prefer to walk?"
"No I shall join you," Silael sat between Aragorn's place and Legolas, "although I fear my conversation may not be a suitable dining diversion."
"That's all right," Aragorn sat down again as the others nodded their assent, "we understand. You obviously need to discuss Pippin."
"And his companion, Merry," Silael could feel the other perian was suffering on behalf of his injured cousin. "Although I agree with your approach that the injuries must be mended first. Nevertheless, I feel the time has come for some psychological healing and I think that Merry can be the driving force behind this - Pippin's and his own."
"I have endeavoured to keep them distant," Aragorn explained, "I was chiefly concerned with keeping Pippin alive, which necessitated hurting him further."
"I understand," Silael smiled fondly at his former pupil. "and very wise you were, too. But now the time has come to reunite them and let Pippin know he is the victor and not the victim."
"How so, Sir Healer?" Gimli was not sure that the little one would be able to cope with this strange idea. "He has not truly been avenged of those filthy creatures yet."
"Oh but he has, Master Dwarf," Silael turned to the frowning Gimli with a slight flash of something, not anger - determination. "It will not take an axe to beat those creatures into submission. The perian has the true victory, they failed for he will remain pure in heart and thought, no orc can take that from him, I am certain."
"He has a very low opinion of himself at the moment." Gimli put in, "he thinks he is no better than an orc's dog or whore."
"Well we will soon change that view." Silael said firmly. "Trust me my friends, I have not yet spoken with the small perian, he is still sleeping, but I feel his mind and that of his cousin. There is a deep innocence and purity there, such as I have seldom encountered in elf or dwarf or man, it is that which will be his salvation."
"Silael, you are truly a great healer," Aragorn bowed his head to the elf, "and I trust that your words will become truth before long."
"Now you must explain to me in detail Aragorn all the physical hurts that I need to deal with." Silael poured himself a goblet of wine from the jug on the table. "
****
Haldir accompanied Frodo, Sam and Boromir to the Healing Chamber. "I do not know whether you will be admitted," The elf remarked trying not to sound too haughty, "They may not want you to see your companion yet."
"Well they will let us know how he is at least." Frodo looked expectantly up at the tall elf, waiting for him to request admittance for them.
"Very well." Haldir struck the small gong beside the entrance. An elf dressed all in white came to the door. "These travellers." Haldir indicated the man and the two hobbits, "wish to see the injured perian. Is he able to receive them?"
"He still sleeps," said the elf in white in a whisper. "But they are welcome to come and look at him. Also his cousin is sitting with him and may be glad of company."
The three were ushered into the inner room where Pippin lay, with Haldir following in attendance. Merry looked up as they entered and put his finger to his lips, warning them not to wake Pippin. They came over to the big bed and, like Merry, Sam and Frodo could hardly see over the top, so tall was it. Boromir lifted them both up to sit by Merry.
"How is he?" Frodo whispered. "Has he woken at all?"
"He stirred a little earlier on," Merry bent his head close to his older cousin to avoid too much noise, "but he went straight back to sleep. It's the longest he's been asleep since. since."
"We know, Merry." Frodo laid his hand on Merry's shoulder comfortingly. "He does look a lot more peaceful."
"That is the blessed enchantment of the Lady Galadriel." Haldir spoke unexpectedly. The hobbits and Boromir all turned to look at him in surprise. "The perian was fortunate to receive her care."
"And why should he not?" Boromir asked through gritted teeth. "He has committed no crime."
"As you say." Haldir deferred not willing to get into an argument with the warrior.
Whether it was the hushed talking or the proximity of the others that disturbed him they could not tell, but Pippin stirred again now and blearily opened his eyes. The healer elf dressed in white was at his side in a heartbeat. He took Pippin's hand and soothed his forehead.
But Pippin would not be soothed. He looked wildly around and flew back into his accustomed realm of panic and dread. Trying to escape the touch and cringing away from the white clad elf in terror. But the elf held his hand and would not let him move away, holding him firmly in place with his other hand now, keeping him pinned down on the bed.
"Does he normally struggle so?" The elf asked whilst never taking his eyes off his struggling patient.
"Yes," Merry whispered. "Often he does, usually Aragorn can stop him or Boromir." Merry nodded towards the Gondorian.
"But only by force," Boromir confessed. "It does not truly calm him. "We fear he may hurt himself."
"Come now then and hold him." The elf suggested. "I do not wish to introduce a new terror into his life, he is already familiar with you."
Boromir came to Pippin's side of the bed and lifted the struggling hobbit into his arms. "It's all right Pippin. Don't be afraid, I've got you safely now, lie still little one, please." Pippin eventually quieted under the familiar tone of Boromir's voice, although he continued to look fearfully around him even when he was laid back on the bed again.
"As you have come," the healer turned to the others now, perhaps you could help me to do something to help the little one."
"Of course," said Frodo, "Anything we can."
"Silael instructed that as soon as he woke I must send young Master Merry away," the elf lifted Merry down from the bed with an apologetic look, "as I need to begin de-lousing the little one."
****
It took a long time for Aragorn to describe all of Pippin's ills, not just his physical injuries but also the venereal disease and the psychological trauma. The ranger even described details of Pippin's infestation and what he thought was the best form of treatment.
"And what of you my friend?" The elven healer asked Aragorn. "You are sore in body and heart. I would ask that you take your rest now and let us tend to the little one. He will want for nothing."
"Silael is wise in his assessment." Legolas looked warily at his friend. "You must release Pippin to their care now, or the strain will take its toll of you also."
"I thank you for your care." Aragorn did now breathe a sigh of relief. "I will not deny that it has been a burden and a worry, but one that I would gladly carry if only to see the little one survive and be well again. I feel it was my fault that this happened to him in the first place and, of course, I was responsible for his care in any case."
"There is no purpose or gain in regretting the past," Silael said wisely. "You treated him with great skill and care, it is also because of you that he survived." Silael looked at the other two, "because of all of you. The perian is fortunate to have such friends."
"Please let us know what we can do to help," Legolas added. "Anything to make him whole again, if it is in my power, I will give."
"Aye," Gimli nodded. "I too will do whatever I am able - just ask it."
"You mentioned a scarf, Aragorn." Silael said, "Do you still have it?"
Aragorn took the tattered, stained garment from his jerkin. "I was going to try and repair it, but I do not have the skill."
Silael took it from him, "I will wash it. The tears will be mended, perhaps it should be reknit, but it will help I think. You say Aragorn that he has only been nourished by the warg?"
"Yes, I did not try to feed him anything else," Aragorn explained. "I believe that fasting will help to purge his system to cure the syphilis."
"And you still have the mushrooms to treat the disease?"
"Samwise put them with the other supplies," The ranger told him.
The healer then turned to Legolas and Gimli. "The first request for help I make from you both may seem a little strange," Silael smiled a little. "Could you milk the warg for me? I need the blessed mother's milk help the perian to take the mushroom."
****
TBC
To anyone who is reading this:
This story is the repost of the NC-17 fic "Moria's Revenge". If you wish to read the whole original NC-17 version (chapters 5 and 7 are more graphic, that's all that's been changed) click on the link below, or cut and paste it into your browser. It is still a work in progress, and I am reuploading the chapters to ff.net as fast as I can. The chapters go up through 31 so far, and 32 is on its way soon (hopefully).
http://www.nindaiwe.com/cgi- bin/stories/display.cgi?id=515&sort=date&cat=11