Author's Note: Hey there, I'm back. Sorry if it's taken a bit long to update. I was delayed several days whilst worrying about Elijah (Wood), who was in Prague when there was a bombing there, and I didn't know whether or not he was alive. I panicked, LOL. I'm just paranoid. But I couldn't live without Elijah... quite sad, am I not?
I've also spent much time trying to 'rescue' this story. I'm sorry it has gone so far downhill. I still have hope in it though, so plz R&R
I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following places or characters, save Aunt Flo, Jak, Malta, Shadow
Big thanks to the following: I love every little review!
Immortal Sorrow (Arrow): Hii again. Thanks again for reviewing, I still get excited by them, LOL!
Ice Ember: Wow, interesting thought. I haven't actually planned that far ahead, but it could happen. Poor Frodo, I'd hate to subject him to that! Thanks for reviewing.
Pipinheart: Yea, I feel for Mer too. I'll look after him though. Thanks for reviewing.
Robin Gurl: Wow, thanks. It's an honour to be favourited. Hehehe, you're a bad influence on Merry!
Orliey: Yea he's looking better... but not for long, mwahaha! Just kidding. Really though, thanks so much for your constant encouragement! It means a lot.
Firey Punk Girl: Of course Pippin is cute! You can pinch his face whenever you want... if you really want. LOL. Thanks for the review.
Leia Wood: Thanks, and yes, poor Pippin still has a relatively long road ahead of him.
Chapter Five:
"Frodo! Frodo!" Merry jerked awake, sliding off the couch. Footsteps pounded down the hallway. Frodo was speaking quickly in a hushed tone nearby, and Paladin was answering frantically.
Merry scrambled to his feet, and struggled to free himself from the tangle of blankets.
"Frodo?" he called hesitantly, stumbling into the hallway. Frodo and Paladin spun to him, faces pale in the early morning light, and reluctant.
"Merry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you-"
"What happened? What's wrong?" Frodo opened his mouth to speak, as Pearl rushed past, depositing a handful of damp towels in his arms, before vanishing back into Pippin's room. Merry stared at them uncomfortably. "What's wrong?" he repeated.
Frodo placed the towels diplomatically into his hands, and pushed him gently towards the door.
"Merry, lad, could you run these down to the washing room with these? I'll take care of them later."
"...Alright, but-"
"Frodo," called a tired voice from within Pippin's room.
"I'm coming, Bilbo."
"Pearl-" began Merry.
"Frodo, could you refill the jug of water, lad?"
"Frodo-"
"Yes, of course. Pearl, Bilbo asked if you could run down to fetch Rob?"
"Someone-"
"Right away, cousin."
"WHAT HAPPENED?" cried Merry angrily. Frodo took his arm and steered him out into the kitchen, pressing him firmly down upon the bench.
"Sit." Said Frodo firmly, as he began to rise. Merry glared at him.
"Would you please tell me what is going on?" he said pleadingly. Frodo sat sighing at his side, smiling tiredly.
"Pippin's getting worse, Mer." Merry looked down at his feet, clenching his fists. "I mean, he got worse during the night. He's burning up, and... I'm not sure how he is, yet."
Merry took a few moments to respond. He couldn't help but remember Frodo's words the previous night: 'Everything will be alright, cousin'. Frodo had not yet come out and said that Pippin was going to die. He had to assume that was good news, but Frodo was a master at disguising the truth, as Merry had learnt when they used to play mind games, back in BrandyHall.
He rubbed at his sore neck, stiff from his restless night on the hard lounge.
"Can he still recover, Frodo?" His cousin looked startled.
"Yes, Merry. I didn't say it was beyond hope... I just wanted you to know that things are not improving. It looks far from likely that Pippin will be up and about in the next few days. And things will be fairly hectic, also. You're more than welcome to stay, but I daresay it will be very boring." Merry swallowed, glancing up miserably.
"Let me help, Frodo. Please? I'll do anything." Frodo smiled and handed him the jug.
"If you could keep this filled with cool water, I'm sure you'll be a big help, lad."
Banned from Pippin's room, Merry did just that. He spent the next few days scurrying back and forth between the kitchen and hallway, transferring jugs of water, damp cloths, and garments. Anything to keep himself occupied. He had a feeling he would go crazy, otherwise.
Pearl had been encouraging him to go and visit Pimpernel and Pervinca, as the girls were lonesome, and it would be good for him to get out of the home.
Merry had so far been refusing, the level of politeness varying, depending on the time and his mood. He preferred being at least close to his cousin, even if he could not see him.
But, as Frodo had predicted, Merry was bored.
Not so much bored, as miserable and frightened.
Frodo spent as much time as possible with him. He was constantly reassuring, telling him anything that was in the least positive, but Merry saw through most of it.
Perhaps now was a good time to go and visit the girls. Pippin seemed to be neither improving or growing worse. As much as he wanted to stay close at Pippin's side, there was little point. He felt utterly helpless, as he was. He realised that if he went to see Pimpernel and Pervinca, he would at least be doing Paladin and Eglantine a favour. And maybe when he returned, in a day or two, Pippin would be better.
Maybe then, Merry would be allowed to visit him.
Sighing, he climbed down from the fence post, and ran a hand through Shadow's soft mane gently.
"I hope your master gets well soon, Shadow. We won't be riding through the snow at all this year, at this rate." The pony nodded his head in what appeared to be agreement, and Merry smiled faintly.
"I'll tell him you said so."
Exhaling, Merry turned away and angled back towards the front door. He had truly been looking forwards to their annual hike this year. Never before had he been so eager for it to snow in the Shire. Not that he would ever go without Pippin. He was as much a part of the tradition as the snow.
Shaking his head, he resolved to go and visit Pippin's sisters. No doubt Paladin and the others would not really need him, and he would after all be doing them a favour. He suspected that it was only a matter of time before they shipped him out anyway.
Before walking inside to the warmth, he cast an anxious glance towards Pippin's window. The glass pane was frosty outside, and he could see little inside other than the warm yellow glow of a hot fire.
"I'll be back soon, Pip... Don't go anywhere without me."
Frodo slid past Paladin, sitting carefully on the small bed, digging a hand absently into the thick layer of quilts.
"Uncle Paladin?" he asked quietly, gazing sadly at the older hobbit's face. Paladin's eyes were bloodshot, and bags under his eyes were a testament to his sleepless nights. He stirred slightly, turning to look at Frodo with a weary smile.
"G'evening, Frodo."
"Morning, you mean, Uncle." Corrected Frodo, returning the smile. "It's just past midnight, now. Aunt Eglantine thought you might like a break. I'd be happy to watch him, until morning." Paladin let out a yawn, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
"I'd appreciate it, lad. I really can't thank you enough for these last few days. You've been a big help." Frodo dipped his head slightly as Paladin stood, looking down at his ill son gravely.
"I wouldn't have it another way. Besides, I can't help feeling just a little guilty." He quickly continued, as Paladin opened his mouth to object. "I know, Pippin should have thought to come home. But that doesn't help now, does it?" He sighed. "I feel terrible for Merry."
Paladin nodded, crouching briefly to bundle up a pile of damp clothes. Frodo felt a slight pang, catching a glimpse of a small jacket. It was so small...
"Privately, I'm glad that he decided to visit the girls. It will be good for him, to get out of here. I hate to think how many meals he has missed."
"Merry can fetch his own food, Uncle." Said Frodo absently.
"Yes, but he was hardly in the right frame of mind to do so, was he?" Frodo opened his mouth to reply, and paused. At length he shrugged.
"Good point." Paladin shook his head, sighing as he straightened.
"Perhaps you should consider a break also, Frodo."
"No, I will stay right here, I think." Said Frodo quickly, and firmly. Paladin smiled, and nodded.
"As you wish. Good night, nephew."
"Good morning." Mumbled Frodo, as Paladin left the room.
Yawning, he turned now to Pippin, exhaling at what he saw. Though he refused to say anything of the sort of Merry, Pippin seemed to him impossibly pale. His small chest rose ever so slightly, as he drew in each ragged breath at a time. His typically golden hair lay limp and dull across his forehead, and his young face was drawn and sickly. On the odd occasion that he would wake and open his eyes, for however long, the normally bright green orbs were glazed and lifeless, as if the inner light within him had long gone out.
And it had only been a few days yet.
Frodo blinked quickly, and moved closer to his young cousin, laying a hand gently upon Pippin's forehead. Barely registering the touch, Pippin stirred only faintly, groaning almost inaudibly in his sleep. Frodo regretfully drew back his hand: Pippin's forehead was very hot, in his fever.
For days now, he had been ignoring all of these things. Pippin was sick frequently, but he always recovered. No matter how bad his illness was, after a few weeks, Pippin always woke up again. He would always sit up, climb out of bed, grinning, and it would be a struggle to keep him in bed, for the following weeks, while he was supposed to be recovering.
All of these times Frodo had been there, no matter how busy he was. Merry also, and on occasion, Sam would insist on being included in caring for him. Frodo smiled faintly, wondering how Sam was doing, back in Hobbiton. Bilbo had enlisted him to look after Bag End while they were gone.
But this time, it looked almost possible that... perhaps, Pippin would not get up this time.
"You know, Pip..." whispered Frodo, looking gingerly at the young hobbit's face. "It's really not fair on us, for you to be this sick." Pippin said nothing.
Miserable, Frodo climbed up to curl into a ball at Pippin's side, figuring that a little more warmth couldn't hurt him.
"You'll get better soon, Pippin, won't you?" mumbled Frodo absently, more to himself than his cousin, as he gently ran his fingers through Pippin's hair.
Note: Just a short chapter this time. OK, next chapter will be more exciting, I promise. SCHOOL IS DRAINING ME! ... Anyway, thanks to all those who have reviewed, and kept with me. It's very encouraging. Plz R&R