Moria's Revenge, chapter 26: Scarred
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos
Frodo's song in this chapter is sung to the tune of Kookaburra (that's the song, not the author) and is dedicated with love from Llinos to Kookaburra (that's the author, not the song.)
(What I'm trying to say is this song is for our Kookaburra with love from me. Llinos.)
A/N's: Ok, people, go get your tissues. I'm warning you.
***
Merry thought that Pippin would never stop crying but when he finally fell to just gentle hiccupping sobs, Merry lifted his cousin's face up and looked at him, searching for 'his Pippin' in grief-filled, sore eyes. "Hello my Pip," he whispered. "Are you back with me now?"
Pippin nodded and buried his face again, still not ready to articulate details of the horrors that he had been through. His Merry was holding him close and for now that was enough. It was what he had longed for when the nightmare was at its worst and it was the one thing he believed could never happen again. And yet, here was Merry, his arms, his voice, his smell, his forgiveness, Merry must have forgiven him all the dreadful things he had done. Merry probably wouldn't even punish him either. He would never let Merry down again, whatever Merry wanted he would do, no matter what.
"Come on Pippin," Merry drew him out again to face the world. "Dry your eyes and let's see if you can do some more painting."
Slowly Pippin allowed himself to be unwound from his dear cousin and Merry propped him up once more with the pillows, making him comfortable and putting the paints close enough for him to reach easily. Merry put a clean sheet of paper ready and then sat on the floor next to Pip and started his own painting.
The others were still drawing and painting, trying not to let Pip see that they too were anxious about his state or that the art class was especially for his benefit. Frodo had made a sketch of Icicle and showed it to Pippin who rewarded his cousin by holding the paper and looking at it carefully, looking over at Icicle still curled up in the corner and then back up at Frodo with a half smile.
Boromir had painted a passable picture of Minas Tirith, he showed it to Pippin and Merry together. "This is the White City of Gondor, where I come from." He smiled as Merry held the paper in front of Pippin so he could see it clearly. "It is far more splendid than I have the ability to paint, but I hope one day you will see it in person."
Pippin pointed to the highest white turret, "Do you live there?" he asked.
"No." Boromir smiled. "But quite close by."
Melystra and Deilen took Aragorn to one side. "That is a wonderful improvement," Melystra whispered and Deilen nodded agreement. "Pippin has actually taken note of two separate subjects not related to anything that happened to him."
"Do you think he is actually coming out of shock at last?" Aragorn asked. "I was beginning to think he never would."
"Yes," Deilen agreed, "He is taking note of his surroundings at last, which means he has a hope of recovery, although there is still much trauma for him to overcome."
Legolas showed Pippin his paintings of woodland scenes and smiled as the hobbit ran his fingers over the paper trying to feel the texture of the artwork and frowning a little as he found nothing but a flat surface. He whispered to Merry, "Why can't I feel the trees?"
"It looks as if you could," Merry agreed. Legolas's picture had great depth and perspective. "But it's just a picture Pip, it's not real."
"Not real." Pippin echoed. "Not real."
Pippin looked carefully at Sam's painting and then at Gimli's realistic sketches of other members of the Fellowship. These in particular fascinated him; they were so realistic and lifelike. However, with Boromir and Aragorn, the dwarf had absent-mindedly sketched in from memory their longer hair and beards. Pippin examined these and then looked up at the two men. He shook his head in some confusion. The pictures were the men of his nightmares, but the men he could see now were different somehow. He pointed to the two pictures and asked Merry, "Are those real?"
Merry looked at the pictures in puzzlement for a while then he realised what was confusing Pippin. "Gimli you gave Aragorn and Boromir their beards back."
"They seemed strange without," Gimli admitted, "My mind was playing tricks with my perception."
Pippin looked at Gimli and blinked at his words, then looked back at the pictures and pointed to Aragorn. "That's Master?" He said as a query.
"No Pippin," Merry said gently, "It's Strider, remember Aragorn, Strider who brought us from Bree to Rivendell and has been with us all through the journey since then."
"Strider, yes." Pippin repeated frowning slightly at the confused memory. Then Pippin lit on another of Gimli's sketches, it was of him. But the dwarf had drawn an earlier version of the hobbit, before he had been kidnapped. There were no bruises in evidence; no cuts or abrasions, his hair was still long and curly; he was dressed in his travelling clothes, complete with scarf and he stood upright on his fur-covered feet, looking back at Pippin with his former happy smile.
Pippin held this picture for a long time gazing at it with his brow furrowed as if confused by the image. Merry touched the sketch lightly, "It's you Pip, can you see? It's you." Pippin shook his head slowly and put the picture down beside him rather than giving it back to Gimli, not accepting the image, but not prepared to relinquish it either.
"Come on Pippin," Merry did not want him to get caught in a downward spiral of despair again, best to keep him distracted Melystra had said. "Do you want to try some more painting?" He put the paintbrush back in Pippin's hand and held it as he dipped it into the yellow paint. Then he pushed the blank paper back towards Pippin again, but Pippin was still interested in Gimli's sketch. He took the drawing again and set it on the ground before him and then very carefully with the yellow paint he wrote 'Pip' underneath it.
Merry looked at his handiwork and smiled at him happily. "That's right Pip, very good, do you want to do some more?"
Pippin nodded and Gimli, who had been watching this performance, took all the sketches he had made and set them before the little hobbit. Pippin carefully selected the picture of Merry first, and with great care, dipping the brush back into the paint frequently, painted the name "Merry" at the foot of the page. This was followed by Sam and then Legolas, which he spelt 'Leglas', but it did not really matter.
Merry chose the next sketch and set the picture of Aragorn before Pip. He looked at the picture and back at Merry. Merry nodded enthusiastically and decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction. "It's Strider, remember? Strider."
Pippin paused, then reached out for the blue paint and daubed the word 'Stryder' across the bottom of the picture. Merry and Gimli were both very pleased with him and Pippin was a little overcome with their praise. "Can I borrow this Pippin?" Merry asked taking the picture up. I want to show it to Strider. Pippin nodded and Merry trotted off to find the ranger who was talking in the other room with Deilen and Melystra.
Gimli refilled some of the water jars, chatting to Legolas about their artistic talents as he did so. "I believe the elves, certainly if your talent is any measure, have more of a feel for painting." Gimli suggested. "It is less technical and more heartfelt."
"I would not dispute that Master Gimli," Legolas agreed. "Dwarves I suppose learn to paint realistically as you use it as more of a tool of design than as an aesthetic expression in its own right. Although your sketches of the Fellowship do show a certain amount of interpretation."
"Look Aragorn!" Merry presented the picture to the ranger to inspect. "Pippin was writing the names on Gimli's sketches and he wrote this on your picture.
Aragorn laughed out loud at the result. "That is excellent Merry. Did you encourage him to do this?"
"No he just started to do it on his own." Merry said excitedly, "and he's still saying a few words about things and nodding and shaking his head."
"That's very good Merry." Aragorn agreed. "How about pictures? Did he draw anything yet?"
"He's not."
Merry's reply halted as he heard an aggrieved sigh from the other room. "Oh Pippin, why did you do that?"
Boromir was stooped before the little hobbit and Sam and Frodo had joined him. Merry was at his side in a heartbeat, looking to see what he had done.
Pippin had taken the sketch of himself, the one that he had written 'Pip' on in yellow paint and had daubed black and red smudges all over the drawing, stabbing at the picture with the paintbrush and making large 'X's all over his face. Merry took the brush from him gently. "Never mind Pip, you don't have to paint if you don't want to." Pippin scowled and shoved his fingers into the red paint and slapped it onto his own face dragging his fingers down his cheeks with his teeth clenched in frustration.
"Oh, Pip, please stop!" begged Frodo as he tried ot catch hold over the stained hands.
Melystra had followed the others into the room and looked to see the results of Pippin latest demonstration of self-loathing. She knew he had to work through this before he could start to heal properly. But it was necessary to make that passage as gentle as possible.
Melystra took a damp cloth and wiped the paint from Pippin's hands and his face and smiled at him kindly. "Do you want to paint some more Pippin?" The hobbit nodded slowly. "Very well," the elf said sweetly, "you must use the brush. Do you understand?" Once more Pippin nodded.
Pippin took up the black brush again, and returned his attention to his red painting. There was still a strip of blue at the top, and between the blue and the red, Pippin made long, angular, black marks. Merry scowled as he tried to fathom what Pippin could possibly be trying to convey. Each mark appeared to be an arrowhead, pointing upwards, with many little marks tracing down from the apex. When Pippin had done a whole line across the top of his paper, he wet down his brush again to dilute the black.
"Pippin, love, what are you painting?" Merry asked. But Pippin only frowned and made a small noise in the back of his throat and washed the pale black in a strip along the bottom of the paper. Sprouting up from it, tall shapes emerged. But what were they? Columns? Trees? Merry couldn't tell. Frodo sidled up to Pippin and looked at the paper. Pippin was now adding smaller blobs on the top of the tall ones.
"Oh, Pippin!" Frodo cried softly. Pippin now started to shake and quiver with suppressed sobs as tears smudged the picture.
"What is it Frodo?" Merry was frantic with the need to know what his Pip was painting and why Frodo had reacted the way he had. "What's Pippin making? I can't tell!"
"It's..." Frodo's voice caught. "Don't you see? These," he pointed to the black arrows at the top of the page, "are mountains. This red field must be under them. And, and..." he gestured to the tall black figures. 'Figures.' Merry realised.
".are orcs." Merry finished for Frodo. Then, "Pippin, breathe!" He shouted.
The little hobbit had been staring at his own creation, his breaths coming faster and faster as he remembered the tall, shadowy figures when they had crowded around him. He had been so alone, so hurt, and so frightened. How he smothered under them, and even the foul air of the mines had felt sweeter than the air of the Shire when he was finally allowed a breath. His head started to feel muzzy again, and he could not get enough air, no matter how fast he inhaled. The room started to swim.
"Strider!" Frodo called, frantic for his cousin. Pippin was starting to turn hideously pale from hyperventilation. Merry was holding Pippin as tight as he dared, stroking the curls, and trying to calm him. Aragorn was at Pippin's side in an instant. He lifted Pippin from Merry and held him close, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Easy, little one, shhh, calm down. There's nothing here to hurt you, you're safe, shhh...slowly now, listen to my breathing." Aragorn held Pippin to his chest. "In, and out, slowly, in, and out...that's a good hobbit..." Eventually Pippin's breaths slowed, and his head cleared, though it hurt quite a bit.
"I-I'm sorry, Pip." Frodo said quietly to the shaking lump under Aragorn's arm. "I thought you would like to paint..."
"It is all right, Frodo." Melystra's hand squeezed his shoulder. "This is good for Pippin. He is expressing himself, even if it is not with words. He has made tremendous progress."
As Pippin calmed, Aragorn sat him up on his lap, stroking the hobbit's short curls. Pippin sniffled and began to wipe at his eyes and nose. Melystra immediately held out a clean handkerchief to Aragorn, who took in gratefully and mopped up Pippin. The halfling's newly freed hands rubbed at himself vigorously, to the extent that Aragorn worried he would do his newly dressed injuries harm.
"Here, Pippin." the ranger tried to still Pippin's hands. "What is the matter? Why are you doing this? Do you hurt anywhere?" Pippin glanced up at Aragorn, turned pink, and hung his head. Aragorn lifted the drooping chin. "Come, now Pippin. Tell me what you want. Pippin frowned at him, and made an impatient noise, holding himself tightly. "Pippin, if you want something, you must tell it to us. We can't read your mind." Aragorn tapped Pippin's temple gently. Pippin dropped his head again, and mumbled something Aragorn could not make out. "What was that Pippin?"
"I could hear him.". Merry said. "He wants a wash."
"That's a good idea," Melystra agreed placating the little hobbit. "You can have a bath if you like Pippin. Your wound is healed enough." She turned to the others who were beginning to clear away their painting equipment. "Perhaps we'd better give Pippin some quiet now."
"Of course, Melystra," Legolas pinned the more appropriate paintings to the wall where Pip could see them, especially those of the fellowship that he had written names on. "We'll leave you in peace to bathe the little one."
"Just call if you need anything." Gimli added as he washed out the paint jars and stacked them away. He then collected Icicle from her corner and, attaching the leash, led her firmly from the room. She had come to associate the dwarf with gustatory delights, and followed willingly.
Melystra asked the attendants to fill the bath and as soon as the others had left, leaving her with just Aragorn and Merry to help bathe Pippin, she laid towels and soap beside the slipper bath, which would be small for a man or an elf, but enormous for a hobbit. Aragorn gave Pippin his finger again and indicated for Merry to do the same and together they walked Pippin, very slowly to the bath and let him sink down again beside it, exhausted by the effort.
"Why do we make him walk, Aragorn?" Merry whispered. It seemed strange to him since Aragorn could so easily have carried him.
"It is good for him to move a little more," Aragorn started to undress Pippin, carefully pulling the nightshirt up and over his head. "It is good for the circulation of the blood."
Melystra immediately placed a towel over the hobbit, realising at once that he did not want to feel so naked. "Don't worry Pippin the water will make you feel clean, although you are already after so much scrubbing," she added. "I'm going to put some healing oils in the water and they smell nice too. Nothing harsh." She felt the water to make sure the temperature was right, then, with Aragorn's help, they began to peel off the bandages.
Merry was sitting on the ground beside Pippin, holding his hand still. The older hobbit had not yet witnessed first hand the actual injuries inflicted on his cousin, the worst damage had always been concealed beneath bandages or clothing. As the wrappings were removed Merry started to breathe a little more sharply and he felt his head begin to swim. It did not seem possible for one little mite like his seemingly delicate baby cousin to have sustained such abuse and lived.
As the last bandage fell away Aragorn lifted Pippin, cradling him under his arms and legs and gently lowered him into the water. "Here Pippin do you want this?" Melystra gave him a soft washcloth to hold and even though he started to rub at his arm with it, the cloth was not abrasive enough to do any damage.
Merry stood now and held onto the top of the bath watching Pippin in speechless horror at the stunning reality of seeing just what had been perpetrated on his small body. But there was worse to come.
Aragorn watched as Melystra soaped Pippin with another cloth, preferring not to handle him overmuch while a female was available to tend to him. They both felt Melystra's ministrations were less threatening in the hobbit's present state. But with her hands full she nodded for the ranger to turn him over. As Aragorn rolled Pippin onto his belly, holding his chin up above the water, Merry caught sight for the first time of Pippin's back and backside. There was virtually not a piece of skin left white. The whole area was one big purple, yellow and black bruise and that was crisscrossed with whiplashes, which had cut into his fragile body again and again. On top of that were the hideous burns that had been inflicted with the poker. And Pippin's backside looked ruptured and distended to an impossible. 'no it's too terrible. too evil to behold. it can't be. not to my Pippin.. no.'
Aragorn and Melystra looked up in startled surprise at the sudden thumping noise. Merry lay unconscious on the floor.
Aragorn kept Pippin distracted while Melystra quickly went to his side and lifted up his head. "I think he's just fainted." She whispered to Aragorn. "Merry? Merry?" She patted his cheek trying to get a reaction, but the hobbit's brain had just shut down in response to his inability to cope with the evidence of his own eyes. "Deilen," she called softly. "Could you come here?"
The elf looked around the door of the bathing room and at once saw the problem. He came over to Merry and lifted his wrist to feel his pulse. "I think it is just a faint." Melystra whispered. "But you had better take him and ensure he is well. Perhaps he should have a proper rest away from here for the night."
"Yes," Deilen agreed. "He is probably overstressed. I will send one of the other periain up to keep the little one company." He lifted Merry up, cradling him against his chest, and carried him out into the fresh air of the Golden Wood to recover.
****
Merry gradually came round as Deilen was carrying him down the stairs and began to struggle a little when he realised he was being carried away from Pippin. "No I have to go back, I need to stay with Pippin. What happened, what did I do?"
"Relax Merry," Deilen held him firmly. "You passed out, probably because you were tired. Now lie still, Pippin is perfectly safe with Aragorn and Melystra."
"But he needs me." Merry's eyes were wide open now and he was on the verge of panic at being separated from his cousin again, especially after what he had seen. He wanted to rush back and put his arms around him and never leave his side again.
"Not in this state he doesn't Merry." Deilen counselled. "He needs you whole and well, now you must get some proper rest tonight and I will send one of the other periain up to watch over him. Your cousin Frodo will be happy to look after him for one night I'm sure." Deilen set Merry on his feet again and held his hand to guide him the rest of the way down.
When they reached the ground they discovered Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Boromir and Gimli all making a combined effort to milk Icicle and failing dismally. The warg either lay obstinately down so they could not reach her milk or growled warningly at them.
"Come Merry," Legolas asked, "she'll let you I'm sure."
Merry wearily took the bowl and, to the amazement of the others got down on all fours and snuggled into Icicle's side. The warg immediately rolled on to her side giving Merry access to her precious milk and, after a few moments of nursing, allowed him to fill the bowl.
In the meantime Deilen spoke quietly to the others. "Merry passed out just now. I think it would be best if he stays down here tonight and if one of the other periain take his place."
"I'll sit with Pippin." Frodo immediately volunteered. "Merry needs a rest, he looks very weary."
"And I'll look after Mr Merry." Sam offered. "Make sure he gets a bite to eat and some proper sleep."
****
Pippin was turned back over and during the distraction caused by Merry fainting had managed to get hold of the soap and was rubbing it frantically into his skin again when Aragorn realised what he was doing and took it gently from him and gave him the soft washcloth again. "Gently Pippin," he advised, "you don't need to rub so hard."
Pippin looked up and suddenly caught sight of Merry being carried from the room, his eyes flew wide and he grabbed at Aragorn's arm in panic. "Merry! No come back! Merry!"
"It's all right Pippin." Aragorn made his voice sound light. "Merry is coming back, he's just very tired and he fell asleep. Don't worry, he's just sleeping."
"Just sleeping?" Pippin echoed looking worriedly at Aragorn. "Sleeping? Merry's sleeping?"
"Yes," Aragorn repeated firmly, "Merry's just sleeping."
It took a long time to coax Pippin out of the bath. He wanted to remain in the water scrubbing at himself long after the water had turned cold and was becoming uncomfortable. "Come on Pippin, are you going to let me take you out now?" Aragorn asked. He did not want to force the hobbit to relinquish his obsessive washing but he was beginning to think he might soon have to.
Finally Pippin started to tire and Melystra wrapped him in a large towel as Aragorn lifted him from the bath. They carefully redressed the wounds once he was dry and Melystra clad him in a clean nightgown.
When this was done Aragorn drew out his warm wool socks. Pippin looked up at him with his brow furled in puzzlement.
"These are for your feet, Pippin." Aragorn said. Pippin looked at them again, and shook his head, tucking his feet under his body and sitting on them. Aragorn looked up at the celing and prayed to the Valar for patience.
"Why don't you want socks, dear Pippin?" asked Melystra kindly. Pippin just shook his head again and looked at the ground, then slowly and reluctantly stuck his feet out in front of him.
Pippin had tried not to think of his ugly, shaved feet. He missed the soft curls and the warmth they gave. The others must think his feet hideous as well, and that was why they wanted to cover them so they would not have to look. A tear rolled down his cheek.
"Oh, Pippin," Aragorn said after noticing this. "what wrong?" He drew Pippin into his lap and held the small body close. "Why don't you want the socks? They are nice and warm, you must feel very chilly with no fur to protect your feet."
Pippin nodded minutely. "No fur," said in a meek voice. "so ugly...no hair..." Here his voice broke and he grabbed his shorn head in his hands and sbegan to weep silently.
"Oh, dear heart," cooed Melystra, "You could never look anything less than adorable. Di you know why we had to cut your hair?"
Pippin nodded again. At the elf's raised eyebrow he whispered, "B-beacuse, because...I...lay with orcs...and that's what happens to...wh-wh-whores when p-people find out..." Pippin's voice trailed into a squeak.
"Oh, Pippin!" Aragorn breathed, hugging him close. He looked up at Melystra with pain-filled eyes. "Is that what you've been thinking? Poor little Pippin." He rocked and soothed the hobbit until Pippin had calmed enough to be coherent. "We had to get rid of the lice and fleas, little one, that's why. Not because of...that. You are NOT a whore, no matter what those horrible orcs told you!"
"N-not a whore?" Asked Pippin with wide eyes, scarcely daring to believe it.
Aragorn smiled at him through tears. "No, Pip. You are not. You never were." Pippin smiled and grabbed a handful of Aragorn's shirt, pressed into his chest and promtly fell asleep.
"Well," whispered Melystra softly, "let's put on the socks, and hope that he does not wake up." Aragorn nodded.
As it turned out, Pippin did wake up, and Aragorn came to the conclusion that no task in Middle Earth was as trying as attemting to put socks on a wriggly, slippery hobbit.
When they finally were on, Aragorn carried him back to the bedchamber and put Pippin in the bed, where the halfling sat staring at his covered feet and wiggling his toes. Strider was preparing to sit watch himself when Frodo arrived. He brought with him the bowl of milk from Icicle, who had also trotted up at the hobbit's heels. It was as if she were intelligent enough to know that they had taken her milk and she wanted to find out what they were doing with it.
As soon as the warg was aware of Pippin she jumped up on the bed and nudged him with her nose, sinking down next to him. She whined at the socks a bit, but made no attempt to take them off. Pippin immediately tried to latch onto her, but Aragorn slipped his hand under Pippin's head and pulled him away gently. He then caught hold of Icicle's collar and urged her up and off the bed. She growled at him, but finally conceded to his control.
Aragorn walked her to the adjoining chamber and took a strong leather thong to make a leash and tied her to a table leg.
"Umumum?" Pippin complained as the ranger came back into the room.
"Not tonight Pippin," Aragorn said softly. What he actually meant was 'not any more'. He had discussed with the healer elves and they all agreed it was time to wean Pippin off the warg, certainly from nursing at her teat. "She's given you some milk to drink instead."
Frodo poured some of the warg's milk into a cup and, after Aragorn lifted him up onto the bed, the older hobbit pretended to drink from the cup and then held it for Pippin until he tipped it up and drank the milk.
Pippin had no difficulty in digesting Icicle's milk and drank the whole bowlful in no time at all, although he would have preferred to have had it warm straight from the warg as he missed her ministrations as much as her warm milk. Once he had finished drinking the milk, Pippin started to suck on his thumb, a childhood habit which he suddenly felt the need for now that he couldn't have Umumum.
"Will you be all right Frodo," Aragorn asked, "Melystra is resting at the moment and will be back in a few hours but Deilen is in the next room."
"Yes, you go Aragorn," Frodo smiled as he scrunched up against the headboard in the way he had seen Merry do. "I'll watch Pip, we'll be perfectly safe, especially with Icicle outside."
Icicle was setting up a constant whiney cry, as she wanted to be with her cub. But she was going to have to manage without for now. However Aragorn did not want to separate them completely as that might make her milk dry up and they still needed her supply at the moment.
As the ranger left Frodo could see Pippin was agitated and not likely to sleep in the near future. He probably needed to entertain him in some way. Story telling, which worked well with Pip when he was little didn't seem quite appropriate now. All the stories he liked had been gruesome and scary, 'No,' Frodo decided, 'definitely not appropriate now.'
"Merry?" Pippin enquired looking hopefully at Frodo. "Umumum?" he tried looking towards the door.
"Sorry, Pip, I'm afraid you're stuck with me tonight." Frodo smiled at him and reached out his hand hoping Pippin would take it. He just looked at the hand and then up at Frodo but made no move to make contact with Frodo.
"Come on, little Pip," Frodo whispered, "It's me, cousin Frodo, I'm just a hobbit like you."
"Hobbit, like you." Pippin echoed. He had started doing that Frodo thought, all day today, repeating what was said to him.
"Yes you're a hobbit." Frodo said, "and I'm a hobbit."
Pippin looked towards the door. "Umumum?" he said.
Frodo wasn't sure what he meant but answered. "No Umumum is not a hobbit, she's a warg."
Pippin thought about this for a moment and then pointed to the picture of Legolas on the wall. "Hobbit?" he asked.
"No Pip, you know he's not. Legolas is an elf."
"An elf." Pippin said. He was actually smiling a little now and Frodo had the distinct feeling, much to his delight, that Pippin might be teasing him.
He pointed at Gimli's picture. "Hobbit?" He said.
"Dwarf." Frodo answered.
Then he pointed to one of the other pictures that Legolas had pinned up. It was a fine painting of a green woodpecker. "Hobbit?" Pippin said almost giggling now.
That gave Frodo an idea. He suddenly remembered an old childhood song they had both sung in their time, about a woodpecker sitting on a tree in the wood and laughing. He pointed to the picture and sang the song.
Woodpecker sits in the forest tree
Happy, happy king of the woods is he
Laugh Yaffle yaffle, laugh yaffle yaffle
Gay your life must be!
Pippin laughed and clapped his hands at the song. Then he pointed to the picture of Legolas again and said, "Elf. . . Elf lives?"
Frodo frowned a little as he thought. But he could make up silly little songs quickly and sang:
The elf he lives in a mallorn tree
Deep in the woods is where he'll be
There he belongs, singing pretty songs
A happy one is he
Pippin smiled broadly at this verse, and then pointed at Gimli. "Dwarf lives?"
Frodo hummed and haa'd for a few moments then sang:
Dwarf he lives in deep dark cave
With all mithril he can crave
Walls are drizzly, his beard all grizzly
His face is stern and grave.
Pippin at last giggled at this verse. He insisted on hearing it again. Then he pointed at the picture of Boromir and said, "Man lives?"
The big man lives in a busy town
Striding round with an angry frown
wearing dirty shoes, supping evil booze
His sorrows just to drown.
Pippin was chortling by now. He had always enjoyed Frodo's storytelling and song making and for this moment he was thoroughly distracted by his entertaining cousin. Frodo had given him the pile of paintings that had not been pinned up and Pippin leafed through them, looking for an image he liked. He found Merry's painting of Smaug.
"Dragon lives?" He requested.
Dragon sits on a pile of gold
Thinks he's very brave and bold
Old lizard skin, with a double chin
Far too fat and old.
Pippin got a bit adventurous with his next picture. He found a drawing Legolas had made for Gimli, showing him the spiders of Mirkwood. Pippin gave a little shiver as he said, "spider lives?"
Spider sits in a big fat loom
Filled with venom and with gloom
Old attercop, big belly flop
Prepare to meet your doom?
Pippin liked the idea of the bad spider meeting its doom and grew braver still, pulling out a picture of a troll. "Troll lives?"
Troll he lives in the mountain high
Big enough to touch the sky
don't you suppose, he can touch his toes
Or he'd even try
Suddenly Pippin came to the frightening picture he had made. No one had destroyed it and Frodo and Pippin both stared at the black orc shapes on the red background. But Frodo wasn't about to let the happy mood slip away. He took the picture and said to Pippin, "Goblin lives?" Pippin nodded nervously.
Goblin lives in dungeon cell
Where there's a really nasty smell
Warts on his nose, down to his toes
Bet his life is hell
Pippin didn't exactly laugh at this one, but they put the painting aside and moved on. Then, perhaps even more poignantly, they found a sketch he, Frodo had made from memory of Gandalf. The little hobbit held it up sadly, "Wizard lives?" he asked. Frodo moved closer now and Pippin allowed the squeeze his big cousin gave his shoulders. He sang:
Wizard he lives anywhere
On the ground or in the air
He comes and goes, when nobody knows
That's when he'll be there.
"Come on Pippin, you need to go to sleep soon, I know I do." The little hobbit had yawned once or twice but wanted the fun to continue.
"One more? He pleaded. Hobbit lives?"
"Of course," Frodo laughed, "we have to have hobbit lives?" He sang:
Hobbit lives in a hole in the ground
A big front door that's oh so round
What can he need? Ale, cakes and weed
Very safe and sound
Pippin gave a contented smile at this last verse as he curled up on the bed with his thumb in his mouth again. Frodo pulled the coverlet over him and tucked him in securely.
Deilen put his head round the door just then and saw that the two hobbits were playing happily and that Pippin looked content. He whispered to Frodo, "Are you two all right? I just need to go down to make sure Merry is recovered."
"Yes, we'll be safe on our own for a while." Frodo assured him as he settled into a woven chair in the corner. "Pippin is nearly asleep now."
Frodo's eyes felt heavier and heavier. Pippin had finally dozed off, and Icicle was quiet except for a few whines now and then. As he listened to Pippin's steady breathing, Frodo's own breath slowed and he drifted off to sleep.
Long fingers grasped the windowsill. Two gleaming eyes took in the two slumbering hobbits.
"My Precssioussss..." Gollum hissed softly as he pulled himself up to perch on the window ledge. The aura of elves was almost unbearable, but the lust for the Ring was greater. Like a shadow he slipped into the room.
Icicle jerked awake. She could feel it. Danger! An unfamiliar smell was creeping from under the door, the door where her cub was! She whined a bit louder, and jerked at the leash that bound her.
Oblivious to any danger Frodo slept on, though his dreams were troubled. He could see the Ring, like a wheel of fire, while it called his name softly.
"Baggins..."
"Bagginssssss...we hatesss him, nasssty hobbitesesss..." Gollum whispered as he crawled around the edge of the room. His Precious was near. He could feel it. Every sense was tuned to it. He reached for Frodo's neck.
Icicle was beside herself. She gnawed frantically at the leather belt, but this one was tougher than the one the dark two-legger had first tied her with.
Frodo woke to cold, clammy fingers around his throat, and a foul hand over his mouth.
Gollum squeezed as hard as he could, hissing in Frodo's ear. "Nasssssty Bagginssss...they stole our Precssiousss, and WE WANTSSS IT!" Frodo jerked back, knocking over the chair. Both tumbled to the ground, but Gollum did not relinquish his hold on Frodo. Frodo brought his hands up trying desperately to loose the hand that was cutting off his air. He thought about Sting, safe on the ground by his pack.
Gollum released Frodo's mouth, and groped about on his chest. The thought that Gollum was going to try and take the Ring sent Frodo an increased burst of strength, even as his vision was clouding from lack of air. He grabbed Gollum's wrist in a grip like iron, and twisted.
Icicle was nearly exhausted, but gathered herself for one last bid for freedom, barking madly, she threw her entire weight against the leash. The chewed sinew snapped, her momentum carrying her across the small chamber and against the door. It shuddered with her onslaught as she rammed against it, determined to get at whatever was threatening her cub.
Pippin awoke with a start. Umummmum was making lots of noise. Why? He heard a thud and a crash from across the room. Frodo was rolling around on the floor and had knocked over a tray with many glasses on it. The shards skittered around the room as Frodo thrashed in them. And there was a shadow that clung to Frodo's back.
"GIVESESS IT TO USSSS!" was hissed loudly. Pippin tried to scream, but no sound left his throat. He sat up his eyes wide with terror, clutching his scarf to his face.
Down on the ground Haldir stopped and looked up at the infirmary flets high above. His elven hearing caught the sounds of a commotion, mingled with feral growls. 'The Lady will have my hide if anything has happened to the perian.' He ran as fast as he could up the winding staircase, loosing his bow as he did so.
The door groaned and buckled as Icicle's growls and leaps increased in intensity.
Frodo's struggles were slowing. He could not see anymore, his shoulder was one large ball of fire where Gollum had bitten, sending sprays of blood everywhere as the deformed creature tore at the hobbit's flesh ruthlessly. Complete darkness fell and Frodo knew no more.
Sam was just coming to one of the 'crossroads' in the trees,as he called them, bearing a tray of tea and cakes for a late night repast for his master, when the elf he recognised as Haldir raced by.
"What..." Sam began.
"Hurry!" Yelled Haldir, already on the spiral one level above. "Something is attacking in the sickbay!" Sam dropped the tray and barged after Haldir, cursing himself for leaving Frodo alone, even if it was to care for Merry.
Greedy fingers tore at Frodo's shirt, eager to expose the prize. At the same moment the door, which had held Icicle, splintered as she bounded into the room. Gollum had no time to even screech before she bowled him off of Frodo. Standing over the fallen hobbit, she snarled, opening her mouth wide to reveal long fangs. Gollum righted himself and sprang back at her, trying to get behind so he could choke the life from the body that was between him and Precious.
Pippin sat trembling on the bed his eyes on poor Frodo and now Umumum, she was snarling at the scaring thing, fighting with it. It might try to hurt her. The little hobbit whimpered over and over, "Umumum! Frodo! Umumum! Frodo!"
The two combatants fought with ferocity. Frodo's frame was knocked to and fro as they duelled. Growling and snarling, Icicle managed to get the fight away from Frodo, knocking over several more pieces of furniture. A stuffed chair was ripped shreds as Gollum sought to climb it, and Icicle's claws found purchase.
Haldir could now hear more crashing and barks, he was taking the steps three at a time, cursing the Valar for not giving elves wings. Only three more spirals to go.
Sam puffed several levels behind him. Even he could now hear the sounds of battle.
Icicle grabbed the creature's leg and dragged him to the floor, biting harder as blood flowed into her mouth. Gollum's strong fingers grabbed her muzzle in a vice-like grip, forcing her to release him.
This new white demon was much more than Gollum had bargained for. He had waited for years for Precious, he could wait a little longer. He barely made it out the window before Icicle pounced.
Picking her way though the upturned furniture and shards of glass, Icicle approached Frodo. She nuzzled him with her bloodied nose, whining at the spreading pool of slick blood.
Pippin still sat on the bed watching the scene, frozen in terror as he rocked to and fro clutching his precious scarf.
Haldir reached the infirmary door, and charged in. The chamber was wrecked, blood was everywhere, and the warg was standing over the hobbit the Lady had told him could save Middle Earth, soaked in Frodo's blood, leaning in for the kill.
In less than a heartbeat one of his arrows was sailing through the air. The leader of the Galadhrim's bow never missed. It stuck Icicle behind her elbow, burying itself in her heart.
Pippin finally found his lungs and gave a heart-rending wail as he saw his Umumum slump to the ground. He crawled to the edge of the bed and flung himself to the floor scrambling over to lie on the warg's still body. Pippin nuzzled his head into Icicle's belly, pushing against her trying to make her respond, but his precious nurse, his one comfort in his nightmare, his darling Umumum was gone.
Haldir tried to reach forward and lift the little hobbit off the dead warg, Pippin turned with a snarl and bit the elf's hand, then threw himself back onto Icicle's lifeless belly, weeping and sobbing as if his heart were at last truly broken.
***
TBC...
Authors: Kookaburra and Llinos
Frodo's song in this chapter is sung to the tune of Kookaburra (that's the song, not the author) and is dedicated with love from Llinos to Kookaburra (that's the author, not the song.)
(What I'm trying to say is this song is for our Kookaburra with love from me. Llinos.)
A/N's: Ok, people, go get your tissues. I'm warning you.
***
Merry thought that Pippin would never stop crying but when he finally fell to just gentle hiccupping sobs, Merry lifted his cousin's face up and looked at him, searching for 'his Pippin' in grief-filled, sore eyes. "Hello my Pip," he whispered. "Are you back with me now?"
Pippin nodded and buried his face again, still not ready to articulate details of the horrors that he had been through. His Merry was holding him close and for now that was enough. It was what he had longed for when the nightmare was at its worst and it was the one thing he believed could never happen again. And yet, here was Merry, his arms, his voice, his smell, his forgiveness, Merry must have forgiven him all the dreadful things he had done. Merry probably wouldn't even punish him either. He would never let Merry down again, whatever Merry wanted he would do, no matter what.
"Come on Pippin," Merry drew him out again to face the world. "Dry your eyes and let's see if you can do some more painting."
Slowly Pippin allowed himself to be unwound from his dear cousin and Merry propped him up once more with the pillows, making him comfortable and putting the paints close enough for him to reach easily. Merry put a clean sheet of paper ready and then sat on the floor next to Pip and started his own painting.
The others were still drawing and painting, trying not to let Pip see that they too were anxious about his state or that the art class was especially for his benefit. Frodo had made a sketch of Icicle and showed it to Pippin who rewarded his cousin by holding the paper and looking at it carefully, looking over at Icicle still curled up in the corner and then back up at Frodo with a half smile.
Boromir had painted a passable picture of Minas Tirith, he showed it to Pippin and Merry together. "This is the White City of Gondor, where I come from." He smiled as Merry held the paper in front of Pippin so he could see it clearly. "It is far more splendid than I have the ability to paint, but I hope one day you will see it in person."
Pippin pointed to the highest white turret, "Do you live there?" he asked.
"No." Boromir smiled. "But quite close by."
Melystra and Deilen took Aragorn to one side. "That is a wonderful improvement," Melystra whispered and Deilen nodded agreement. "Pippin has actually taken note of two separate subjects not related to anything that happened to him."
"Do you think he is actually coming out of shock at last?" Aragorn asked. "I was beginning to think he never would."
"Yes," Deilen agreed, "He is taking note of his surroundings at last, which means he has a hope of recovery, although there is still much trauma for him to overcome."
Legolas showed Pippin his paintings of woodland scenes and smiled as the hobbit ran his fingers over the paper trying to feel the texture of the artwork and frowning a little as he found nothing but a flat surface. He whispered to Merry, "Why can't I feel the trees?"
"It looks as if you could," Merry agreed. Legolas's picture had great depth and perspective. "But it's just a picture Pip, it's not real."
"Not real." Pippin echoed. "Not real."
Pippin looked carefully at Sam's painting and then at Gimli's realistic sketches of other members of the Fellowship. These in particular fascinated him; they were so realistic and lifelike. However, with Boromir and Aragorn, the dwarf had absent-mindedly sketched in from memory their longer hair and beards. Pippin examined these and then looked up at the two men. He shook his head in some confusion. The pictures were the men of his nightmares, but the men he could see now were different somehow. He pointed to the two pictures and asked Merry, "Are those real?"
Merry looked at the pictures in puzzlement for a while then he realised what was confusing Pippin. "Gimli you gave Aragorn and Boromir their beards back."
"They seemed strange without," Gimli admitted, "My mind was playing tricks with my perception."
Pippin looked at Gimli and blinked at his words, then looked back at the pictures and pointed to Aragorn. "That's Master?" He said as a query.
"No Pippin," Merry said gently, "It's Strider, remember Aragorn, Strider who brought us from Bree to Rivendell and has been with us all through the journey since then."
"Strider, yes." Pippin repeated frowning slightly at the confused memory. Then Pippin lit on another of Gimli's sketches, it was of him. But the dwarf had drawn an earlier version of the hobbit, before he had been kidnapped. There were no bruises in evidence; no cuts or abrasions, his hair was still long and curly; he was dressed in his travelling clothes, complete with scarf and he stood upright on his fur-covered feet, looking back at Pippin with his former happy smile.
Pippin held this picture for a long time gazing at it with his brow furrowed as if confused by the image. Merry touched the sketch lightly, "It's you Pip, can you see? It's you." Pippin shook his head slowly and put the picture down beside him rather than giving it back to Gimli, not accepting the image, but not prepared to relinquish it either.
"Come on Pippin," Merry did not want him to get caught in a downward spiral of despair again, best to keep him distracted Melystra had said. "Do you want to try some more painting?" He put the paintbrush back in Pippin's hand and held it as he dipped it into the yellow paint. Then he pushed the blank paper back towards Pippin again, but Pippin was still interested in Gimli's sketch. He took the drawing again and set it on the ground before him and then very carefully with the yellow paint he wrote 'Pip' underneath it.
Merry looked at his handiwork and smiled at him happily. "That's right Pip, very good, do you want to do some more?"
Pippin nodded and Gimli, who had been watching this performance, took all the sketches he had made and set them before the little hobbit. Pippin carefully selected the picture of Merry first, and with great care, dipping the brush back into the paint frequently, painted the name "Merry" at the foot of the page. This was followed by Sam and then Legolas, which he spelt 'Leglas', but it did not really matter.
Merry chose the next sketch and set the picture of Aragorn before Pip. He looked at the picture and back at Merry. Merry nodded enthusiastically and decided to give him a little nudge in the right direction. "It's Strider, remember? Strider."
Pippin paused, then reached out for the blue paint and daubed the word 'Stryder' across the bottom of the picture. Merry and Gimli were both very pleased with him and Pippin was a little overcome with their praise. "Can I borrow this Pippin?" Merry asked taking the picture up. I want to show it to Strider. Pippin nodded and Merry trotted off to find the ranger who was talking in the other room with Deilen and Melystra.
Gimli refilled some of the water jars, chatting to Legolas about their artistic talents as he did so. "I believe the elves, certainly if your talent is any measure, have more of a feel for painting." Gimli suggested. "It is less technical and more heartfelt."
"I would not dispute that Master Gimli," Legolas agreed. "Dwarves I suppose learn to paint realistically as you use it as more of a tool of design than as an aesthetic expression in its own right. Although your sketches of the Fellowship do show a certain amount of interpretation."
"Look Aragorn!" Merry presented the picture to the ranger to inspect. "Pippin was writing the names on Gimli's sketches and he wrote this on your picture.
Aragorn laughed out loud at the result. "That is excellent Merry. Did you encourage him to do this?"
"No he just started to do it on his own." Merry said excitedly, "and he's still saying a few words about things and nodding and shaking his head."
"That's very good Merry." Aragorn agreed. "How about pictures? Did he draw anything yet?"
"He's not."
Merry's reply halted as he heard an aggrieved sigh from the other room. "Oh Pippin, why did you do that?"
Boromir was stooped before the little hobbit and Sam and Frodo had joined him. Merry was at his side in a heartbeat, looking to see what he had done.
Pippin had taken the sketch of himself, the one that he had written 'Pip' on in yellow paint and had daubed black and red smudges all over the drawing, stabbing at the picture with the paintbrush and making large 'X's all over his face. Merry took the brush from him gently. "Never mind Pip, you don't have to paint if you don't want to." Pippin scowled and shoved his fingers into the red paint and slapped it onto his own face dragging his fingers down his cheeks with his teeth clenched in frustration.
"Oh, Pip, please stop!" begged Frodo as he tried ot catch hold over the stained hands.
Melystra had followed the others into the room and looked to see the results of Pippin latest demonstration of self-loathing. She knew he had to work through this before he could start to heal properly. But it was necessary to make that passage as gentle as possible.
Melystra took a damp cloth and wiped the paint from Pippin's hands and his face and smiled at him kindly. "Do you want to paint some more Pippin?" The hobbit nodded slowly. "Very well," the elf said sweetly, "you must use the brush. Do you understand?" Once more Pippin nodded.
Pippin took up the black brush again, and returned his attention to his red painting. There was still a strip of blue at the top, and between the blue and the red, Pippin made long, angular, black marks. Merry scowled as he tried to fathom what Pippin could possibly be trying to convey. Each mark appeared to be an arrowhead, pointing upwards, with many little marks tracing down from the apex. When Pippin had done a whole line across the top of his paper, he wet down his brush again to dilute the black.
"Pippin, love, what are you painting?" Merry asked. But Pippin only frowned and made a small noise in the back of his throat and washed the pale black in a strip along the bottom of the paper. Sprouting up from it, tall shapes emerged. But what were they? Columns? Trees? Merry couldn't tell. Frodo sidled up to Pippin and looked at the paper. Pippin was now adding smaller blobs on the top of the tall ones.
"Oh, Pippin!" Frodo cried softly. Pippin now started to shake and quiver with suppressed sobs as tears smudged the picture.
"What is it Frodo?" Merry was frantic with the need to know what his Pip was painting and why Frodo had reacted the way he had. "What's Pippin making? I can't tell!"
"It's..." Frodo's voice caught. "Don't you see? These," he pointed to the black arrows at the top of the page, "are mountains. This red field must be under them. And, and..." he gestured to the tall black figures. 'Figures.' Merry realised.
".are orcs." Merry finished for Frodo. Then, "Pippin, breathe!" He shouted.
The little hobbit had been staring at his own creation, his breaths coming faster and faster as he remembered the tall, shadowy figures when they had crowded around him. He had been so alone, so hurt, and so frightened. How he smothered under them, and even the foul air of the mines had felt sweeter than the air of the Shire when he was finally allowed a breath. His head started to feel muzzy again, and he could not get enough air, no matter how fast he inhaled. The room started to swim.
"Strider!" Frodo called, frantic for his cousin. Pippin was starting to turn hideously pale from hyperventilation. Merry was holding Pippin as tight as he dared, stroking the curls, and trying to calm him. Aragorn was at Pippin's side in an instant. He lifted Pippin from Merry and held him close, sitting on the edge of the bed.
"Easy, little one, shhh, calm down. There's nothing here to hurt you, you're safe, shhh...slowly now, listen to my breathing." Aragorn held Pippin to his chest. "In, and out, slowly, in, and out...that's a good hobbit..." Eventually Pippin's breaths slowed, and his head cleared, though it hurt quite a bit.
"I-I'm sorry, Pip." Frodo said quietly to the shaking lump under Aragorn's arm. "I thought you would like to paint..."
"It is all right, Frodo." Melystra's hand squeezed his shoulder. "This is good for Pippin. He is expressing himself, even if it is not with words. He has made tremendous progress."
As Pippin calmed, Aragorn sat him up on his lap, stroking the hobbit's short curls. Pippin sniffled and began to wipe at his eyes and nose. Melystra immediately held out a clean handkerchief to Aragorn, who took in gratefully and mopped up Pippin. The halfling's newly freed hands rubbed at himself vigorously, to the extent that Aragorn worried he would do his newly dressed injuries harm.
"Here, Pippin." the ranger tried to still Pippin's hands. "What is the matter? Why are you doing this? Do you hurt anywhere?" Pippin glanced up at Aragorn, turned pink, and hung his head. Aragorn lifted the drooping chin. "Come, now Pippin. Tell me what you want. Pippin frowned at him, and made an impatient noise, holding himself tightly. "Pippin, if you want something, you must tell it to us. We can't read your mind." Aragorn tapped Pippin's temple gently. Pippin dropped his head again, and mumbled something Aragorn could not make out. "What was that Pippin?"
"I could hear him.". Merry said. "He wants a wash."
"That's a good idea," Melystra agreed placating the little hobbit. "You can have a bath if you like Pippin. Your wound is healed enough." She turned to the others who were beginning to clear away their painting equipment. "Perhaps we'd better give Pippin some quiet now."
"Of course, Melystra," Legolas pinned the more appropriate paintings to the wall where Pip could see them, especially those of the fellowship that he had written names on. "We'll leave you in peace to bathe the little one."
"Just call if you need anything." Gimli added as he washed out the paint jars and stacked them away. He then collected Icicle from her corner and, attaching the leash, led her firmly from the room. She had come to associate the dwarf with gustatory delights, and followed willingly.
Melystra asked the attendants to fill the bath and as soon as the others had left, leaving her with just Aragorn and Merry to help bathe Pippin, she laid towels and soap beside the slipper bath, which would be small for a man or an elf, but enormous for a hobbit. Aragorn gave Pippin his finger again and indicated for Merry to do the same and together they walked Pippin, very slowly to the bath and let him sink down again beside it, exhausted by the effort.
"Why do we make him walk, Aragorn?" Merry whispered. It seemed strange to him since Aragorn could so easily have carried him.
"It is good for him to move a little more," Aragorn started to undress Pippin, carefully pulling the nightshirt up and over his head. "It is good for the circulation of the blood."
Melystra immediately placed a towel over the hobbit, realising at once that he did not want to feel so naked. "Don't worry Pippin the water will make you feel clean, although you are already after so much scrubbing," she added. "I'm going to put some healing oils in the water and they smell nice too. Nothing harsh." She felt the water to make sure the temperature was right, then, with Aragorn's help, they began to peel off the bandages.
Merry was sitting on the ground beside Pippin, holding his hand still. The older hobbit had not yet witnessed first hand the actual injuries inflicted on his cousin, the worst damage had always been concealed beneath bandages or clothing. As the wrappings were removed Merry started to breathe a little more sharply and he felt his head begin to swim. It did not seem possible for one little mite like his seemingly delicate baby cousin to have sustained such abuse and lived.
As the last bandage fell away Aragorn lifted Pippin, cradling him under his arms and legs and gently lowered him into the water. "Here Pippin do you want this?" Melystra gave him a soft washcloth to hold and even though he started to rub at his arm with it, the cloth was not abrasive enough to do any damage.
Merry stood now and held onto the top of the bath watching Pippin in speechless horror at the stunning reality of seeing just what had been perpetrated on his small body. But there was worse to come.
Aragorn watched as Melystra soaped Pippin with another cloth, preferring not to handle him overmuch while a female was available to tend to him. They both felt Melystra's ministrations were less threatening in the hobbit's present state. But with her hands full she nodded for the ranger to turn him over. As Aragorn rolled Pippin onto his belly, holding his chin up above the water, Merry caught sight for the first time of Pippin's back and backside. There was virtually not a piece of skin left white. The whole area was one big purple, yellow and black bruise and that was crisscrossed with whiplashes, which had cut into his fragile body again and again. On top of that were the hideous burns that had been inflicted with the poker. And Pippin's backside looked ruptured and distended to an impossible. 'no it's too terrible. too evil to behold. it can't be. not to my Pippin.. no.'
Aragorn and Melystra looked up in startled surprise at the sudden thumping noise. Merry lay unconscious on the floor.
Aragorn kept Pippin distracted while Melystra quickly went to his side and lifted up his head. "I think he's just fainted." She whispered to Aragorn. "Merry? Merry?" She patted his cheek trying to get a reaction, but the hobbit's brain had just shut down in response to his inability to cope with the evidence of his own eyes. "Deilen," she called softly. "Could you come here?"
The elf looked around the door of the bathing room and at once saw the problem. He came over to Merry and lifted his wrist to feel his pulse. "I think it is just a faint." Melystra whispered. "But you had better take him and ensure he is well. Perhaps he should have a proper rest away from here for the night."
"Yes," Deilen agreed. "He is probably overstressed. I will send one of the other periain up to keep the little one company." He lifted Merry up, cradling him against his chest, and carried him out into the fresh air of the Golden Wood to recover.
****
Merry gradually came round as Deilen was carrying him down the stairs and began to struggle a little when he realised he was being carried away from Pippin. "No I have to go back, I need to stay with Pippin. What happened, what did I do?"
"Relax Merry," Deilen held him firmly. "You passed out, probably because you were tired. Now lie still, Pippin is perfectly safe with Aragorn and Melystra."
"But he needs me." Merry's eyes were wide open now and he was on the verge of panic at being separated from his cousin again, especially after what he had seen. He wanted to rush back and put his arms around him and never leave his side again.
"Not in this state he doesn't Merry." Deilen counselled. "He needs you whole and well, now you must get some proper rest tonight and I will send one of the other periain up to watch over him. Your cousin Frodo will be happy to look after him for one night I'm sure." Deilen set Merry on his feet again and held his hand to guide him the rest of the way down.
When they reached the ground they discovered Legolas, Frodo, Sam, Boromir and Gimli all making a combined effort to milk Icicle and failing dismally. The warg either lay obstinately down so they could not reach her milk or growled warningly at them.
"Come Merry," Legolas asked, "she'll let you I'm sure."
Merry wearily took the bowl and, to the amazement of the others got down on all fours and snuggled into Icicle's side. The warg immediately rolled on to her side giving Merry access to her precious milk and, after a few moments of nursing, allowed him to fill the bowl.
In the meantime Deilen spoke quietly to the others. "Merry passed out just now. I think it would be best if he stays down here tonight and if one of the other periain take his place."
"I'll sit with Pippin." Frodo immediately volunteered. "Merry needs a rest, he looks very weary."
"And I'll look after Mr Merry." Sam offered. "Make sure he gets a bite to eat and some proper sleep."
****
Pippin was turned back over and during the distraction caused by Merry fainting had managed to get hold of the soap and was rubbing it frantically into his skin again when Aragorn realised what he was doing and took it gently from him and gave him the soft washcloth again. "Gently Pippin," he advised, "you don't need to rub so hard."
Pippin looked up and suddenly caught sight of Merry being carried from the room, his eyes flew wide and he grabbed at Aragorn's arm in panic. "Merry! No come back! Merry!"
"It's all right Pippin." Aragorn made his voice sound light. "Merry is coming back, he's just very tired and he fell asleep. Don't worry, he's just sleeping."
"Just sleeping?" Pippin echoed looking worriedly at Aragorn. "Sleeping? Merry's sleeping?"
"Yes," Aragorn repeated firmly, "Merry's just sleeping."
It took a long time to coax Pippin out of the bath. He wanted to remain in the water scrubbing at himself long after the water had turned cold and was becoming uncomfortable. "Come on Pippin, are you going to let me take you out now?" Aragorn asked. He did not want to force the hobbit to relinquish his obsessive washing but he was beginning to think he might soon have to.
Finally Pippin started to tire and Melystra wrapped him in a large towel as Aragorn lifted him from the bath. They carefully redressed the wounds once he was dry and Melystra clad him in a clean nightgown.
When this was done Aragorn drew out his warm wool socks. Pippin looked up at him with his brow furled in puzzlement.
"These are for your feet, Pippin." Aragorn said. Pippin looked at them again, and shook his head, tucking his feet under his body and sitting on them. Aragorn looked up at the celing and prayed to the Valar for patience.
"Why don't you want socks, dear Pippin?" asked Melystra kindly. Pippin just shook his head again and looked at the ground, then slowly and reluctantly stuck his feet out in front of him.
Pippin had tried not to think of his ugly, shaved feet. He missed the soft curls and the warmth they gave. The others must think his feet hideous as well, and that was why they wanted to cover them so they would not have to look. A tear rolled down his cheek.
"Oh, Pippin," Aragorn said after noticing this. "what wrong?" He drew Pippin into his lap and held the small body close. "Why don't you want the socks? They are nice and warm, you must feel very chilly with no fur to protect your feet."
Pippin nodded minutely. "No fur," said in a meek voice. "so ugly...no hair..." Here his voice broke and he grabbed his shorn head in his hands and sbegan to weep silently.
"Oh, dear heart," cooed Melystra, "You could never look anything less than adorable. Di you know why we had to cut your hair?"
Pippin nodded again. At the elf's raised eyebrow he whispered, "B-beacuse, because...I...lay with orcs...and that's what happens to...wh-wh-whores when p-people find out..." Pippin's voice trailed into a squeak.
"Oh, Pippin!" Aragorn breathed, hugging him close. He looked up at Melystra with pain-filled eyes. "Is that what you've been thinking? Poor little Pippin." He rocked and soothed the hobbit until Pippin had calmed enough to be coherent. "We had to get rid of the lice and fleas, little one, that's why. Not because of...that. You are NOT a whore, no matter what those horrible orcs told you!"
"N-not a whore?" Asked Pippin with wide eyes, scarcely daring to believe it.
Aragorn smiled at him through tears. "No, Pip. You are not. You never were." Pippin smiled and grabbed a handful of Aragorn's shirt, pressed into his chest and promtly fell asleep.
"Well," whispered Melystra softly, "let's put on the socks, and hope that he does not wake up." Aragorn nodded.
As it turned out, Pippin did wake up, and Aragorn came to the conclusion that no task in Middle Earth was as trying as attemting to put socks on a wriggly, slippery hobbit.
When they finally were on, Aragorn carried him back to the bedchamber and put Pippin in the bed, where the halfling sat staring at his covered feet and wiggling his toes. Strider was preparing to sit watch himself when Frodo arrived. He brought with him the bowl of milk from Icicle, who had also trotted up at the hobbit's heels. It was as if she were intelligent enough to know that they had taken her milk and she wanted to find out what they were doing with it.
As soon as the warg was aware of Pippin she jumped up on the bed and nudged him with her nose, sinking down next to him. She whined at the socks a bit, but made no attempt to take them off. Pippin immediately tried to latch onto her, but Aragorn slipped his hand under Pippin's head and pulled him away gently. He then caught hold of Icicle's collar and urged her up and off the bed. She growled at him, but finally conceded to his control.
Aragorn walked her to the adjoining chamber and took a strong leather thong to make a leash and tied her to a table leg.
"Umumum?" Pippin complained as the ranger came back into the room.
"Not tonight Pippin," Aragorn said softly. What he actually meant was 'not any more'. He had discussed with the healer elves and they all agreed it was time to wean Pippin off the warg, certainly from nursing at her teat. "She's given you some milk to drink instead."
Frodo poured some of the warg's milk into a cup and, after Aragorn lifted him up onto the bed, the older hobbit pretended to drink from the cup and then held it for Pippin until he tipped it up and drank the milk.
Pippin had no difficulty in digesting Icicle's milk and drank the whole bowlful in no time at all, although he would have preferred to have had it warm straight from the warg as he missed her ministrations as much as her warm milk. Once he had finished drinking the milk, Pippin started to suck on his thumb, a childhood habit which he suddenly felt the need for now that he couldn't have Umumum.
"Will you be all right Frodo," Aragorn asked, "Melystra is resting at the moment and will be back in a few hours but Deilen is in the next room."
"Yes, you go Aragorn," Frodo smiled as he scrunched up against the headboard in the way he had seen Merry do. "I'll watch Pip, we'll be perfectly safe, especially with Icicle outside."
Icicle was setting up a constant whiney cry, as she wanted to be with her cub. But she was going to have to manage without for now. However Aragorn did not want to separate them completely as that might make her milk dry up and they still needed her supply at the moment.
As the ranger left Frodo could see Pippin was agitated and not likely to sleep in the near future. He probably needed to entertain him in some way. Story telling, which worked well with Pip when he was little didn't seem quite appropriate now. All the stories he liked had been gruesome and scary, 'No,' Frodo decided, 'definitely not appropriate now.'
"Merry?" Pippin enquired looking hopefully at Frodo. "Umumum?" he tried looking towards the door.
"Sorry, Pip, I'm afraid you're stuck with me tonight." Frodo smiled at him and reached out his hand hoping Pippin would take it. He just looked at the hand and then up at Frodo but made no move to make contact with Frodo.
"Come on, little Pip," Frodo whispered, "It's me, cousin Frodo, I'm just a hobbit like you."
"Hobbit, like you." Pippin echoed. He had started doing that Frodo thought, all day today, repeating what was said to him.
"Yes you're a hobbit." Frodo said, "and I'm a hobbit."
Pippin looked towards the door. "Umumum?" he said.
Frodo wasn't sure what he meant but answered. "No Umumum is not a hobbit, she's a warg."
Pippin thought about this for a moment and then pointed to the picture of Legolas on the wall. "Hobbit?" he asked.
"No Pip, you know he's not. Legolas is an elf."
"An elf." Pippin said. He was actually smiling a little now and Frodo had the distinct feeling, much to his delight, that Pippin might be teasing him.
He pointed at Gimli's picture. "Hobbit?" He said.
"Dwarf." Frodo answered.
Then he pointed to one of the other pictures that Legolas had pinned up. It was a fine painting of a green woodpecker. "Hobbit?" Pippin said almost giggling now.
That gave Frodo an idea. He suddenly remembered an old childhood song they had both sung in their time, about a woodpecker sitting on a tree in the wood and laughing. He pointed to the picture and sang the song.
Woodpecker sits in the forest tree
Happy, happy king of the woods is he
Laugh Yaffle yaffle, laugh yaffle yaffle
Gay your life must be!
Pippin laughed and clapped his hands at the song. Then he pointed to the picture of Legolas again and said, "Elf. . . Elf lives?"
Frodo frowned a little as he thought. But he could make up silly little songs quickly and sang:
The elf he lives in a mallorn tree
Deep in the woods is where he'll be
There he belongs, singing pretty songs
A happy one is he
Pippin smiled broadly at this verse, and then pointed at Gimli. "Dwarf lives?"
Frodo hummed and haa'd for a few moments then sang:
Dwarf he lives in deep dark cave
With all mithril he can crave
Walls are drizzly, his beard all grizzly
His face is stern and grave.
Pippin at last giggled at this verse. He insisted on hearing it again. Then he pointed at the picture of Boromir and said, "Man lives?"
The big man lives in a busy town
Striding round with an angry frown
wearing dirty shoes, supping evil booze
His sorrows just to drown.
Pippin was chortling by now. He had always enjoyed Frodo's storytelling and song making and for this moment he was thoroughly distracted by his entertaining cousin. Frodo had given him the pile of paintings that had not been pinned up and Pippin leafed through them, looking for an image he liked. He found Merry's painting of Smaug.
"Dragon lives?" He requested.
Dragon sits on a pile of gold
Thinks he's very brave and bold
Old lizard skin, with a double chin
Far too fat and old.
Pippin got a bit adventurous with his next picture. He found a drawing Legolas had made for Gimli, showing him the spiders of Mirkwood. Pippin gave a little shiver as he said, "spider lives?"
Spider sits in a big fat loom
Filled with venom and with gloom
Old attercop, big belly flop
Prepare to meet your doom?
Pippin liked the idea of the bad spider meeting its doom and grew braver still, pulling out a picture of a troll. "Troll lives?"
Troll he lives in the mountain high
Big enough to touch the sky
don't you suppose, he can touch his toes
Or he'd even try
Suddenly Pippin came to the frightening picture he had made. No one had destroyed it and Frodo and Pippin both stared at the black orc shapes on the red background. But Frodo wasn't about to let the happy mood slip away. He took the picture and said to Pippin, "Goblin lives?" Pippin nodded nervously.
Goblin lives in dungeon cell
Where there's a really nasty smell
Warts on his nose, down to his toes
Bet his life is hell
Pippin didn't exactly laugh at this one, but they put the painting aside and moved on. Then, perhaps even more poignantly, they found a sketch he, Frodo had made from memory of Gandalf. The little hobbit held it up sadly, "Wizard lives?" he asked. Frodo moved closer now and Pippin allowed the squeeze his big cousin gave his shoulders. He sang:
Wizard he lives anywhere
On the ground or in the air
He comes and goes, when nobody knows
That's when he'll be there.
"Come on Pippin, you need to go to sleep soon, I know I do." The little hobbit had yawned once or twice but wanted the fun to continue.
"One more? He pleaded. Hobbit lives?"
"Of course," Frodo laughed, "we have to have hobbit lives?" He sang:
Hobbit lives in a hole in the ground
A big front door that's oh so round
What can he need? Ale, cakes and weed
Very safe and sound
Pippin gave a contented smile at this last verse as he curled up on the bed with his thumb in his mouth again. Frodo pulled the coverlet over him and tucked him in securely.
Deilen put his head round the door just then and saw that the two hobbits were playing happily and that Pippin looked content. He whispered to Frodo, "Are you two all right? I just need to go down to make sure Merry is recovered."
"Yes, we'll be safe on our own for a while." Frodo assured him as he settled into a woven chair in the corner. "Pippin is nearly asleep now."
Frodo's eyes felt heavier and heavier. Pippin had finally dozed off, and Icicle was quiet except for a few whines now and then. As he listened to Pippin's steady breathing, Frodo's own breath slowed and he drifted off to sleep.
Long fingers grasped the windowsill. Two gleaming eyes took in the two slumbering hobbits.
"My Precssioussss..." Gollum hissed softly as he pulled himself up to perch on the window ledge. The aura of elves was almost unbearable, but the lust for the Ring was greater. Like a shadow he slipped into the room.
Icicle jerked awake. She could feel it. Danger! An unfamiliar smell was creeping from under the door, the door where her cub was! She whined a bit louder, and jerked at the leash that bound her.
Oblivious to any danger Frodo slept on, though his dreams were troubled. He could see the Ring, like a wheel of fire, while it called his name softly.
"Baggins..."
"Bagginssssss...we hatesss him, nasssty hobbitesesss..." Gollum whispered as he crawled around the edge of the room. His Precious was near. He could feel it. Every sense was tuned to it. He reached for Frodo's neck.
Icicle was beside herself. She gnawed frantically at the leather belt, but this one was tougher than the one the dark two-legger had first tied her with.
Frodo woke to cold, clammy fingers around his throat, and a foul hand over his mouth.
Gollum squeezed as hard as he could, hissing in Frodo's ear. "Nasssssty Bagginssss...they stole our Precssiousss, and WE WANTSSS IT!" Frodo jerked back, knocking over the chair. Both tumbled to the ground, but Gollum did not relinquish his hold on Frodo. Frodo brought his hands up trying desperately to loose the hand that was cutting off his air. He thought about Sting, safe on the ground by his pack.
Gollum released Frodo's mouth, and groped about on his chest. The thought that Gollum was going to try and take the Ring sent Frodo an increased burst of strength, even as his vision was clouding from lack of air. He grabbed Gollum's wrist in a grip like iron, and twisted.
Icicle was nearly exhausted, but gathered herself for one last bid for freedom, barking madly, she threw her entire weight against the leash. The chewed sinew snapped, her momentum carrying her across the small chamber and against the door. It shuddered with her onslaught as she rammed against it, determined to get at whatever was threatening her cub.
Pippin awoke with a start. Umummmum was making lots of noise. Why? He heard a thud and a crash from across the room. Frodo was rolling around on the floor and had knocked over a tray with many glasses on it. The shards skittered around the room as Frodo thrashed in them. And there was a shadow that clung to Frodo's back.
"GIVESESS IT TO USSSS!" was hissed loudly. Pippin tried to scream, but no sound left his throat. He sat up his eyes wide with terror, clutching his scarf to his face.
Down on the ground Haldir stopped and looked up at the infirmary flets high above. His elven hearing caught the sounds of a commotion, mingled with feral growls. 'The Lady will have my hide if anything has happened to the perian.' He ran as fast as he could up the winding staircase, loosing his bow as he did so.
The door groaned and buckled as Icicle's growls and leaps increased in intensity.
Frodo's struggles were slowing. He could not see anymore, his shoulder was one large ball of fire where Gollum had bitten, sending sprays of blood everywhere as the deformed creature tore at the hobbit's flesh ruthlessly. Complete darkness fell and Frodo knew no more.
Sam was just coming to one of the 'crossroads' in the trees,as he called them, bearing a tray of tea and cakes for a late night repast for his master, when the elf he recognised as Haldir raced by.
"What..." Sam began.
"Hurry!" Yelled Haldir, already on the spiral one level above. "Something is attacking in the sickbay!" Sam dropped the tray and barged after Haldir, cursing himself for leaving Frodo alone, even if it was to care for Merry.
Greedy fingers tore at Frodo's shirt, eager to expose the prize. At the same moment the door, which had held Icicle, splintered as she bounded into the room. Gollum had no time to even screech before she bowled him off of Frodo. Standing over the fallen hobbit, she snarled, opening her mouth wide to reveal long fangs. Gollum righted himself and sprang back at her, trying to get behind so he could choke the life from the body that was between him and Precious.
Pippin sat trembling on the bed his eyes on poor Frodo and now Umumum, she was snarling at the scaring thing, fighting with it. It might try to hurt her. The little hobbit whimpered over and over, "Umumum! Frodo! Umumum! Frodo!"
The two combatants fought with ferocity. Frodo's frame was knocked to and fro as they duelled. Growling and snarling, Icicle managed to get the fight away from Frodo, knocking over several more pieces of furniture. A stuffed chair was ripped shreds as Gollum sought to climb it, and Icicle's claws found purchase.
Haldir could now hear more crashing and barks, he was taking the steps three at a time, cursing the Valar for not giving elves wings. Only three more spirals to go.
Sam puffed several levels behind him. Even he could now hear the sounds of battle.
Icicle grabbed the creature's leg and dragged him to the floor, biting harder as blood flowed into her mouth. Gollum's strong fingers grabbed her muzzle in a vice-like grip, forcing her to release him.
This new white demon was much more than Gollum had bargained for. He had waited for years for Precious, he could wait a little longer. He barely made it out the window before Icicle pounced.
Picking her way though the upturned furniture and shards of glass, Icicle approached Frodo. She nuzzled him with her bloodied nose, whining at the spreading pool of slick blood.
Pippin still sat on the bed watching the scene, frozen in terror as he rocked to and fro clutching his precious scarf.
Haldir reached the infirmary door, and charged in. The chamber was wrecked, blood was everywhere, and the warg was standing over the hobbit the Lady had told him could save Middle Earth, soaked in Frodo's blood, leaning in for the kill.
In less than a heartbeat one of his arrows was sailing through the air. The leader of the Galadhrim's bow never missed. It stuck Icicle behind her elbow, burying itself in her heart.
Pippin finally found his lungs and gave a heart-rending wail as he saw his Umumum slump to the ground. He crawled to the edge of the bed and flung himself to the floor scrambling over to lie on the warg's still body. Pippin nuzzled his head into Icicle's belly, pushing against her trying to make her respond, but his precious nurse, his one comfort in his nightmare, his darling Umumum was gone.
Haldir tried to reach forward and lift the little hobbit off the dead warg, Pippin turned with a snarl and bit the elf's hand, then threw himself back onto Icicle's lifeless belly, weeping and sobbing as if his heart were at last truly broken.
***
TBC...