What Empty Places are For
chapter ten
Silence held the little cave in thrall, for how many heartbeats Pippin did not know. The woman had removed the tether from Boromir, now. She had rolled up a fur robe and placed it under Boromir's head. She stroked his face and tucked a stray lock of hair behind one ear, almost like a mother looking in on a sleeping child.
"Do not fear, Little Brother," she said, casting a swift glance at Pippin before turning her attention back to Boromir. "Nothing will happen that is not meant to happen. You wish to know if he will die, no?"
"Yes; that is to say I do. Will he? Die, I mean. Do you think so?" Pippin half-whispered. His throat was dry as dust. He cautiously crept closer to Boromir.
"All shall die, Little Brother." the woman answered.
"You give me an answer that is not an answer," Pippin said, his voice now rising a little with anger. Why did her words upset him so, he wondered. He stepped forward a little more boldly, now.
"But it is an answer, Little Brother. Already he has died, twice now, yet he is returned." She smiled kindly at Pippin. "Whatever comes of him, surely you must know that every beat of his heart is a precious gift. No one is promised anything when they come into the world. But do not fret so! He has the heart of a lion, your Man."
"Why do you call him 'my Man?' As though he is my pet!" Pippin stepped a little closer still.
"Is he not your pet? Are not all people you love your pet?" Again she gave him a gentle smile. Her eyes twinkled. Seemingly she was enjoying the conversation.
"He most certainly is not my pet!" Pippin asserted. "I would not own a person, not even if they were willing!"
"Yet you call the wolf my wolf. Neither do I own him. He belongs to the Maker, not to me."
"But that is not the same thing!" protested Pippin, "The wolf is an animal!"
"You are mistaken, Little Brother. He is not as he seems." Still the little smile lingered on her lips. "As for owning anything, Man or Beast, one can not truly own that which does not love one. He loves you, your Man, and so, in a way, you do own him. But not as property, it is not such a poor thing as buying and selling that I speak of. You are also his pet. You became this when you first grew to love him. Love changes things, Little Brother, love changes all things but death."
"I do not understand what you mean!" Pippin snapped. "Can you speak more plainly, and not bait me with such outrageous talk of death and having pet people or being someone else's pet?"
"I am sorry I upset you." said the woman, "I only intended to play with words. People put too much meaning in their words, so that their actions do not hold as great a weight. Words can be very meaningless, Little Brother. Actions say much more, and you said much when you did not leave him in the cold."
"Well, if that is true, then he has written many books." Pippin had crept slowly closer and closer, until finally he was beside Boromir. He knelt by his friend and looked at the woman across Boromir's supine form.
"As have you, yourself." said the woman, smiling again.
"I should say not," Pippin retorted.
"Oh, but Little Brother, you have! You and many of your friends and kin have written many books. And many others just like you; they, too, have written many books. Great among these books is the one that teaches us that there is no greater love than that of one who would lay down his life for a friend. There is no greater love to found than this."
Pippin looked at the ugly blue and black lump behind Boromir's ear. A lone tear rolled down his cheek and plopped wetly on the lump. "I wish he would wake!" Pippin muttered.
"He may yet wake," commented the woman. "Do not lose hope! I know you have lost many to death, but do not bury your friend just yet."
"What can you know about what I have lost?" Pippin snapped.
"Because I am the one who sees these things. I see them go. That is what I do."
"You're mad!" Pippin said. "You cannot possibly see that!"
"Can I not? I believe I can show you," the woman said.
"Well you would have to show me for me to believe that!"
"Speak wisely, Little Brother!" the woman, said softly. Her words seemed to drop like lead in the confines of the little cave. "Be sure you wish to see! For once you have seen, the vision may weigh heavily on your heart!"
"Well, I can scarcely worry about that!" Pippin said. "I think you cannot show me anything, except perhaps a way back home!"
"I would not have these visions torment you," she answered. "Yet, I think I should show you."
"Show him what?"
"Boromir!" Pippin shouted. "You have wakened!"
"So I have." Boromir said, wincing at the echoing shout. "Please, Pippin, make your observations a little more quietly? My head is going to pop. Where are we? Who is our hostess? How did we get here?"
Pippin checked behind Boromir's ear again. At first he thought he was looking behind the wrong ear, but upon looking behind both ears, Pippin discovered the large and ugly lump had vanished.
"It's gone!" Pippin gasped, "Your wound, Boromir, it is healed! I don't understand how, but you're healed!"
"It was your sorrow born of love, Little Brother," the woman said. "That is what healed him. Things work… differently, here at the edge of time. But come, we must tell your friend what you have learned here, and what you have yet to learn."
Pippin could not have said why, but her last few words rang in him like a bell. "What is it?" he asked, filled with trepidation. "What is it I have yet to learn?"
"Why," she answered, "What empty places are for, of course."
To be continued