Author's Note: I haven't had the time to read through this before posting it, I hope it's good anyway. A little bit of drama this week, but more than that the theme is morals. Hope you'll enjoy!
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
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"Is this going to take long?" Fredegar complained as Merry handed him Dusky's reins.
"Perhaps" Merry said. "I'm sorry Fatty, but this has to come first."
Fatty made a face. They had planned on riding to the inn and have a few pints of ale but on the way Merry had been waved in by a Hobbit whose children were sick. Merry promised he would take a look at them, which meant Fatty would have to wait at least thirty more minutes before he could have his ale.
Merry ignored his brother-in-law's pouting and followed the other Hobbit inside. He was one of the Delverings, a Hobbit family who traditionally were the lowest class in Buckland. They owned the least fertile soils and did most of the unpleasant work. None of them had any money to speak of. Fatty evilly wished Merry would leave them be and not worry his head about them, in Fatty's eyes they were not as important as the ale waiting for them at the inn. But Merry felt differently.
"They just came sick this morning!" Cobe Delvering said to Merry as he led him to his nursery. "They seemed fine yesterday!"
"Sometimes it catches you off-guard" Merry said. "But I would not be alarmed if I were you. It's spring, everybody's running around outside far too undressed, and since we had snow this winter the ground is wet now. I know I'll be tending to my own children before long when they bring the cold on themselves."
He walked into the nursery and found Delvering's wife there, watching over two sick youngsters. Merry estimated their ages to about eight and six. He sat down on a stool next to them and placed his hand on the boy's forehead. The nervous parents answered all his questions and watched him examine the children. A frown appeared on Merry's forehead.
"And you saw no signs at all of this yesterday?"
"None!" Mrs. Delvering said.
"Nothing? Neither complained about a headache, sore throat, anything like that? They didn't look like they were getting a temperature?"
"No" Delvering said. "In fact Master… They did not seem ill this morning either! They were perfectly fine until they both fainted after afternoon tea!"
"Have they been anywhere out of the ordinary recently?" Merry asked.
"Why, yes in fact" Delvering said. "My wife, she was midwifing her sister, see? So I brought the children with me when I went to Bree to trade some mathoms in for blankets and pots. They were both very excited, they had never been to Bree before, and not me either!"
"Bree, you say…" Merry said thoughtfully. "Pots and blankets was it?"
"Yes."
Merry took a deep breath.
"Go outside to Fatty Bolger. Tell him to go to Brandy Hall, get Lucky on a horse with him and ride to Bree. Tell him that Legolas Greenleaf will meet him by the gates of the city, Lucky is not to pass through the gates. Fatty shall leave him with Legolas and then head back home."
"Is something the matter?" Mrs. Delvering asked.
"Get Fatty the message, now!" Merry said and then turned to Mrs. Delvering. "And you get me a pen and paper!"
Delvering and his wife hurried off. Merry wished they would hurry even more. He had heard about their children's condition but nobody had had it in the Shire for over two-hundred years. Knowing how Lucky caught everything that went around he had to get the lad out of the Shire. The dreaded Fever, which was the only name the Hobbits remembered for the condition, was in almost every case deadly. He thanked his lucky star that Legolas was currently in Rivendell and could ride to meet his son.
Mrs. Delvering came back with a piece of paper and a pen and Merry quickly scrabbled a note where he explained the situation to his Elf friend and begged him to help. He also remembered to ask him for some athelas to send with Fatty, Merry's stock was running low. Just as he finished his note Delvering came back.
"Master Fatty wants to know--"
"Has he not yet left?" Merry said angrily. "I swear I'll wring his neck one of these days! Be sure to tell him he can not stop for ales on the way!"
"Pardon me Master" Delvering said. "All he wants to know is how to recognise this Legolas."
"He'll be wearing a cape just like mine" Merry said. "Do you have any pigeons? This message needs to be sent to Master Legolas as soon as possible!"
Delvering bowed and left with the note to find Fatty and a pigeon. Merry sighed and rubbed his aching temples. If the children had the Fever he could only hope they had not been in contact with anyone else recently.
"Master, what is wrong with my children?" Mrs. Delvering asked, fighting back her tears.
"Have the children been in contact with anyone else since their return?" Merry asked. Mrs Delvering shook her head. "That's good. What about the pots and blankets, what did you do with them?"
"Should I get them?" Mrs. Delvering asked.
"No!" Merry said. "I just need to know what you did with them."
"Some we kept" Mrs. Delvering said. Realising how the rest of the answer would go Merry sighed deeply. "The rest we traded with our friends and family. And, and Cobe sold a few at the market two days ago."
"Then we have a problem" Merry said.
"What is going on?" Delvering asked, appearing in the doorway.
"They have the Fever" Merry said.
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"Your son is here, Master!" Delvering announced.
Merry hurried outside to make sure Théodoc didn't get too close. He did not want to risk him catching the Fever and he wasn't sure exactly how it spread. If it spread through breath Théo had to stay away.
"Do you have it?" he asked Théo when his son stopped twenty yards away. For once Théo was on a pony and the beast seemed nervous. Merry didn't take that as a good sign.
"I have it" Théo said and lifted up a small pouch.
"Is that all of it?"
"Yes" Théo said.
"Then let us hope we won't get many more patients."
Théo tossed the pouch to his father and Merry caught it. When he held the pouch he could feel that it was heavier than it looked, which hopefully meant that there was more athelas left than he had just thought. If more people fell ill, which they were bound to do if the pots and blankets had been spread out, they would need every shred of athelas they could find. But kingsfoil was hard to come by in the Shire these days.
"Thank you Théo" Merry said. "Did Lucky get off okay?"
"Yes" Théo said. "But we don't understand! What is going on?"
"Make sure word spreads that I am here" Merry said. "I don't want people coming to the Hall to get help when they're ill. Make sure they come here instead."
Théodoc opened his mouth to ask the reason why but thought the better of it. He knew better than to ask questions when his father obviously didn't want to talk. He drove his pony to a gallop and headed toward the market. It would be the safest spot to start spreading the word.
"Gather the blankets you still have" Merry said to Delvering. "Smash the pots and wrap the blankets around them. Then burn the blankets. Ride around to everyone you've given a pot or a blanket to and have them do the same. And tell them to come here if they fall ill."
"Smash the pots?" Delvering repeated. "Burn the blankets? Master I don't think you understands! We traded most of our mathoms for those pots and blankets, their value is very great for us! We don't have a lot of things, Master!"
"The Fever is in the blankets" Merry said. "It's the only known way that the disease spreads. Once it has gotten into a blanket it will never get out of it, the only thing to do is to burn it. Since we don't know in what other ways the Fever might spread we must smash the pots also. Do this as fast as you can Delvering, before it is too late!"
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"Will they die?" Mrs. Delvering asked and began to cry again. Merry was back with her children, preparing some of the athelas. He used as little as he dared to, hoping to be able to save as much as possible.
"I hope they won't" Merry said. "They still have a chance."
"But Fever, it kills!" Mrs. Delvering said. "I know the stories well, how it killed everyone who fell ill when last it came!"
"But I was not here when last it came" Merry said with confidence. "I have not given up on your children yet."
"Master" Delvering said with a heavy sigh, appearing in the door.
"What is it?"
"People are coming… Many people."
Merry got up and went outside to have a look. Dozens of Hobbits were coming from every direction, most of them Delverings but Merry recognised two Brandybucks among them. Luckily they weren't from Brandy Hall, at least the Fever hadn't gotten to the home of so many yet. Merry lifted a hand to shadow the sun and took a deep breath. He prayed he had enough athelas. If he had any luck at all the Fever spread only through the blankets, and once they were burned the deadly illness would be stopped.
"What are we going to do?" Delvering asked. "We cannot have them all stay here! There's no room!"
"Master Merry!" one of the Brandybucks said. "Can you help? You must help…"
"Indeed we cannot all stay here" Merry said.
"Should we go back to our homes?" one of the Delvering asked. "When will you then have the time to come see us? What if you cannot come until it is too late!"
"You're right, we need everyone gathered at the same place" Merry agreed.
"But they cannot all stay here!" Delvering objected once more.
Merry nodded slowly. They had to gather somewhere else. But where?
"Crickhollow" he then said.
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The night was pitch black, darker than a spring night would normally be. Heavy clouds hid the stars and the moon and drenched all sources of light. The walls surrounding Bree were dark as well and let no light out from the little town. Fatty knew that on the other side of these walls a warm and friendly town waited, he wished with all his heart he could be there instead of out here. He had never been to Bree but he had never longed more to see the town than he did right now.
There was only one light nearby, a lantern hanging from a pole right in front of Fatty. It cast a comforting light on the ground and would have made Fatty feel a little better had it not been for how the light only made the scary things scarier.
The light from the lantern reflected in a puddle on the ground. It had rained in Bree earlier in the evening and would surely rain some more later. It was as if the rain had taken a break in order for this meeting to take place, Fatty felt like it was luring around the corner to all fall down on him and make him soaking wet as soon as the meeting was over. It was a scary thought.
Somewhere an owl howled. Fatty hated owls. Fatty hated any animal that scared him when the night was dark. He had never had half the courage his brother-in-law possessed. He longed for a nice warm fireplace, a half-pint of ale and some mushrooms to eat. He didn't want to be out here in the dark.
He held his hands firmly on Lucky's shoulders as if protecting the boy from any attack that might come from behind. But Fatty was not scared of anything behind him. He was scared of what was before him. Three tall dark figures on tall dark horses. He would not have been able to see them at all had they not been close enough to the lantern to have some traces of light fall upon them. The three figures wore dark cloaks that seemed to reach as far down as their ankles and Fatty could not make out any facial features. He had only been this scared one before in his life, when he had stood before a Black Rider. These three characters reminded him of them so much that he in his heart doubted that Merry had been telling the truth when he said that those Riders were no more.
"Uncle Fatty…" Lucky whispered. "I'm scared."
"Identify yourselves!" Fatty said, his voice trembling. If only he could be strong and confident for the boy's sake!
"I am here for Meriadoc's son" one of the figures said.
"Legolas Greenleaf?"
"I have come for the son of Meriadoc" the figure repeated. "You have him."
"Step into the light! How will I know that you are Legolas unless you step into the light?"
"How would you recognise someone you had never met before?" the figure asked.
"Merry told me what to look for!" Fatty asked, sounding a bit more confident when he had a reply to the dark figure. "'Look for a cape just like mine', he said!"
The figure dismounted his horse.
"A dear old fool he remains" he said. "What foolishness to send such an important message and such an important treasure with someone with no sense in his head."
Legolas stepped into the lights. Lucky and Fatty's jaws dropped at the same time. Neither had ever seen an Elf before.
"You should not have told me what you were to look for" Legolas said. "For how would you then know for sure that I was not casting some spell upon your eyes to make you see what you expected to see?" He took off his dark hooded cape and revealed an Elf cape just like Merry's hanging from his shoulders. "Would you not expect an Elf to be wearing an Elven cape?" he asked. "How can you tell that this is the exact same kind as Merry's?"
Fatty blushed and looked away. Lucky however squinted and stood on his tiptoes to get a better look.
"The brooch is exactly the same as Father's!" he said. "Father says those brooches are special and cannot be find on more than nine capes in the world."
"At least someone with some sense" Legolas said. "Yes I am indeed Legolas Greenleaf, sent by your father to meet you here and bring you to safety. Has he ever told you about Rivendell?"
"Rivendell!" Lucky exclaimed, unable to believe his good fortune. "The Elven city!"
"You shall ride with me there and you shall be safe." Legolas kneeled and reached out his hand to Lucky. "Come Lucimac Brandybuck."
Lucky was not afraid anymore. He knew who Legolas was. His father had told him many stories about him. Lucky had never felt a more intoxicating feeling in all his life, not only was he heading off to adventures and getting to see those lands his father had traveled through so many years ago. In front of him now stood a member of the Fellowship of the Ring. So it was all true, then. Those fragments of stories he had been told, of fantastic people and fantastic places, they were all true. The proof was standing right before his eyes. He took the hand Legolas had extended and let the Elf lift him up on his horse.
"That horse is mighty big!" Fatty objected, now both scared and humiliated.
"Merry asked me to keep his son safe and so I shall" Legolas said. "I will not let him fall from the horse!"
"It's okay, Uncle Fatty!" Lucky exclaimed happily.
"Give this to Merry" Legolas said and handed Fatty a large pouch and a letter. "Travel with haste. Lives depend on it."
Then Legolas mounted his horse and Fatty gasped when he saw that the animal had no saddle or reins. He couldn't believe he was letting his nephew ride off on the largest horse he had ever seen without any protection from falling to the ground. But before he could protest Legolas had put his cloak back on and wrapped it around Lucky as well so the child was barely visible. Then the three riders turned their horses around and galloped off into the night.
Left alone behind stood Fatty Bolger, longing even more for ale and a nice fireplace.
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Dark was the night at Crickhollow when Merry took his refuge to the kitchen for something to eat. He would have to eat fast, there was a young lass who needed athelas quite soon. She would get the last of it. Merry had treated twenty Hobbits in the past few days and by now his supply of kingsfoil was almost spent. He wondered what could be keeping Fatty so long, he wished he would return soon with the very important herbs.
He had sent out five young medic trainees to search for more kingsfoil. The plant did grow in the Shire but unfortunately a lot of people saw it as a weed and got rid of it. Merry had told the youngsters to search every garden and every flowerbed in the Shire if they had to.
Marcoro Took, a medic from Tuckburough, came and sat down opposite Merry to have something to eat as well. All medics in the Shire had gathered at Crickhollow but none of them knew what to do with the athelas. In truth none of them believed that the weed did any good at all. They couldn't explain how Merry could heal people from the Fever but they were not yet ready to recognise such great powers in a weed. They preferred to believe that Merry did magic. The result of their disbelief was that Merry was on his own to treat the ill Hobbits who came from all parts of the Shire now, while the other medics did whatever they could to ease aching throats, heads and muscles.
Merry was exhausted. He had not seen his family in days, Brandy Hall was pretty much locked down, nobody was allowed to go in or out. If the Fever began to spread through Brandy Hall far too many would fall ill in far too short period of time. The Great Smials were also kept under supervision but the Tooks had a little more freedom. Especially Pippin, who was in charge of the shriffs, who worked hard to keep Brandy Hall and Crickhollow secluded.
"Have you gotten any further on how it spreads?" Merry asked Marcoro while they ate.
"I'm not sure" Marcoro said. "What we know is that it spreads through blankets, and through sharing cups and cutlery. At least it does not appear to be spreading through the air with our breaths. May every mighty power in this world help us if it began to spread that way…"
"There would be no stopping it then" Merry said and took a deep breath. "What a mess… What ill did we do to deserve the Fever? You are all very brave Marcoro to come here and work at the risk of your lives."
"We'd better hope we don't start catching it" Marcoro said. "If we begin to die, who is going to be the medic then?"
Merry nodded and slowly continued with his soup. He really should be hurrying up but he needed this moment to sit back and relax. Suddenly he squinted, thinking he could see something through the window.
"Oh no…" he said. "Don't tell me they're bringing another one in!"
He rose from his chair and went to the window. It was dark out and difficult to see. Whoever it was ought to have brought a light. Then suddenly he saw who it was. It was Pippin, frantically waving to his left. Merry nodded slightly.
"Who is it?" Marcoro asked.
"No one" Merry said. "This exhaustion is making me see things!"
"Take a few hours to rest, Master" Marcoro said.
"In a while perhaps" Merry said. "I need to treat the Delvering lass first. She won't make it through the night unless I do."
He left the kitchen but did not go to fetch the herbs. Instead he was headed for his study. He closed the door very carefully behind him, hoping no one had noticed him going in there. Anyone who had set foot inside Crickhollow was strictly forbidden to have any form of contact with those on the outside as long as they weren't sure what caused the Fever to spread. When Merry and the other medics needed something from their apprentices they sent word through the old-fashioned method of tying a note to something heavy and tossing it out an open window. It was getting ridiculous.
Merry strode up to his window, which unlike the window in Pippin's study could open. Pippin was crouched in the bushes underneath the window and Merry leaned his upper-body out to talk to him. Pippin reached his hands up to him and held his cousin's hands in his own. They had not seen each other in days, it was good to be near one another once more.
"Nobody can see us" Pippin whispered. "Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody should be able to hear us either but we'd better keep our voices down just to be on the safe side." He paused. "How are you doing, Merry?"
"I'm just fine" Merry said. "You shouldn't have come, I fear I'll pass something on to you. Though it's balm for my soul to hear your voice."
Pippin rewarded him with a smile. Merry had seen that smile once before, when they had been captivated by the orcs. It was the smile Pippin had given him in the middle of their despair when he had heard his cousin was okay. It was that wonderful smile of relief, only someone like Pippin could smile like that when things looked so dark.
"You are not ill" Pippin stated.
"Through some miracle" Merry said. "How's Tuckburough? Is there anyone still out there who isn't ill? I've seen so many Hobbits deadly sick in these past few days that I've almost forgotten how a healthy Hobbit looks."
"Many have died?" Pippin said sadly.
"Many have also lived" Merry said. "We cannot cure all of them, but we could have been much worse off. It is so great to see you again, Pippin Took."
"I wish I could be there with you and help you through this ordeal" Pippin said. "But I have got my own to think about. The silly klutzes in the shriffs are not used to working hard, you wouldn't believe how low their discipline is!"
"No news from Fatty?" Merry asked.
"No" Pippin said. "I'm sorry Merry."
"He should have been back by now! You don't suppose anything has happened to Lucimac, do you?"
"Legolas would have sent word if so" Pippin said. "Old Fatty's probably lost and can't find his way back or something. He'll show up, don't worry."
"I need that athelas!" Merry said.
"You'll get it…" Pippin said.
"So you've come only to lift my spirits a bit?" Merry asked and smiled. "You're putting yourself in a huge risk in doing so!"
The smile vanished from Pippin's face and he had to turn his head for a moment. He found it hard looking into Merry's eyes right now.
"Unfortunately…" Pippin said. "Unfortunately I am not here for that reason. I have ill news to bring you."
"Pippin, nothing has happened to your family has it?" Merry asked, gripping Pippin's hands harder. "Are Faramir and Diamond fine?"
"Merry…" Pippin sighed. "It's Lúthien. She's got the Fever."
"What?" Merry asked sternly.
"She's sick" Pippin said tenderly and reached up a hand to gently caress Merry's cheek. "She fell ill yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Merry repeated. "Yesterday?"
"Yesterday" Pippin nodded. "I've spent every waking moment since word came to me trying to figure out how to get you the message. I tried to have her moved here but they refuse to let her leave the room at the Hall. They're afraid she'll leave the illness like a trail behind her, infesting every room and hall she passes! Everyone is terrified, Merry! I've done everything I could but they refused to even let me into her room."
"But how did she get it?" Merry asked. "Was she outside?"
"I don't know" Pippin said. "But she went with Estella to the market earlier in the week. Perhaps she got in contact with one of those blankets?"
"But if so why hasn't she fallen ill sooner?" Merry said. He closed his eyes and cried out with frustration.
Pippin shushed him as loudly as he dared to.
"Someone might hear you!"
"They're just going to leave her like that?" Merry asked. "They're just going to let my baby die? Fever kills the one who doesn't get treatment! They will let that happen to her? I won't let them!"
He let go of Pippin's hands and stormed off. Pippin remained by the window, waiting for whatever message or herb Merry might be coming back with. His jaw nearly dropped with surprise when Merry after ten minutes came jumping out the window and nearly knocked Pippin over in the fall. Merry had grabbed the very last athelas and flung his Elf cape over his shoulders and looked at his cousin with determined eyes.
"If they won't let her come to me then I shall come to her" he said resolutely. "How could they leave her to die?"
"You're sure about this?" Pippin asked and began to close the window as much as he could from the outside. He knew Merry was sure but he thought it was best to ask. "You're needed here too."
"I have only athelas to save one more life" Merry said. "Once it is spent I am as useless or as useful as the other medics. My presence won't make a difference until Fatty returns or those darn trainees find some kingsfoil!"
Pippin nodded. He made his way through the brushes to where he had hid his pony and Merry followed close behind. Their Elf capes shielded them from the eyes of the shriffs standing on guard by the gates and the door to Crickhollow. Merry distrustfully shook his head as Pippin untied the pony's reins.
"How we are to pass them by unnoticed is a mystery to me" he said. "But do it we must."
"Please Merry" Pippin said. "I got past them once, I can do it again." He mounted his pony and reached out his hand to Merry. "Up you go! Crow can carry both of us, it's not a long distance. Come on!"
Merry continued to glare distrustfully at the guards by the gate but Pippin steered Crow in the other direction. Late in the previous night he had ridden to a spot where the fence was partly concealed by trees and had resolutely sawed off some beams to make an entrance. He had used that hole to get in earlier this evening and now he used it to get out. Once they were at a safe enough distance he drove Crow to a gallop.
But there was no way to sneak into Brandy Hall unnoticed. Every single entrance was carefully guarded and lanterns were hung all around so that nobody could hide in the shadows and climb through a window. Knowing this Pippin headed straight for the main entrance. If they had to get past shriffs then they might as well do so by the main entrance.
Merry quickly got down on the ground when they came close enough to the Hall and walked up to the six Hobbits guarding the door, walking as if it was just an ordinary night. One of them raised his spear.
"Stop!" he said. "You are supposed to be at Crickhollow, you are not meant to leave! The Fever might come with you!"
"I've left Crickhollow" Merry said. "I need to get inside Brandy Hall."
"I cannot let you get through, Master" the Hobbit said.
"This is my home, do not tell me what I can and cannot do" Merry said. "Or do you wish to hold me back? And perhaps catch the Fever?"
"If we must" the Hobbit said. "We cannot let you go inside and infect everyone living there. I'm sorry Master."
"Lúthien is sick!" Merry said, getting more and more upset. "I have to get to her, you have to let me through! Please!"
"I'm sorry" the Hobbit said.
"Let me through!" Merry commanded and tried to get past the shriffs.
Pippin stood back and said nothing as two of the shriffs grabbed a hold of Merry and held him back. Pippin could not help but admire the two, they knew they were putting themselves in the risk of catching the Fever but they still held Merry back in order to protect those living at the Hall. Merry struggled with all his might to get loose and he directed all of his anger and frustration at the poor shriff with the spear.
"She's my daughter!" he cried. "You have to let me through. Her life depends on it! Please, have a heart!"
"It would risk the lives of all living at Brandy Hall" the spear-holding Hobbit said firmly. "Think of how many that could die!"
"But she's my child!" Merry cried, near hysteria. "She is sick! You have to let me see her! I am the Master of Buckland and I demand you let me in! My baby is dying! Are you not a father? Do you not understand? I cannot let her die, she is my daughter!"
Suddenly he managed to get a hand loose and before anyone had a chance to react he had drawn his sword. The Hobbit who had lost his grip of Merry's hand quickly backed away and Merry had no trouble shaking loose the other one. He took a step up to the other shriffs and held his blade up to the chin of the Hobbit with the spear.
"Let me through right now" he said, suddenly sounding very calm and very threatening. "It is an order not a suggestion."
But he had underestimated the shriff, who in spite of his obvious fear did not budge.
"I cannot let you pass" he said.
"I have killed far more than you could count with a blade" Merry said. "And not only orcs! You would be surprised! A little rat like you would be no match for me, don't you for a second doubt that I would not kill you to get to my daughter!"
"You kill me and everyone here will witness it" the shriff said and swallowed.
"The king will pardon me" Merry said. "Let me inside."
"Master…" the shriff said. "You are hereby relieved of your command and authority. You have lost your mind."
Suddenly another blade appeared, this time resting against the throat of a nervous young shriff standing next to the one with the spear. The blade was held by Pippin, who had snuck up unseen, camouflaged by his Elf cape and his black Gondorian armor.
"This blade too has killed more than you could count" he said icily. "You stand between us and our sick child. How highly do you think we value your life under such circumstances?"
"But we are here on your command!" one of the shriffs cried out. "We were posted here by you, ordered to not let anyone through!"
"And your Master has just given you another order" Pippin said. "Relieve him from his authority if you think that might help. But I still hold full authority over the shriffs and cannot be relieved from such by any other command than that of the Master and the Mayor together. And I order you to let us through!"
With more precision than anyone knew he slowly and casually slid his blade across the young shriff's throat, scraping the skin enough to make him bleed but skillfully avoiding any serious injuries. The unlucky Hobbit exposed to this treatment did not see it as quite as safe as Pippin, and broke down crying. The act had the effect Pippin had intended, it scared the shriffs to follow his command. The Hobbit with the spear held his head high even though he feared having Merry's far less steady sword put him through the same treatment, and stepped aside.
"You will never get through that door" he said. "You do so Master Merry and it will be the death of many."
Merry ignored him and put his sword back in its scabbard. He was not scared of any threats coming from the shriffs and he was certain he would not pass the Fever on to anyone simply by walking the halls of his home. But one thing was sure, he would encounter many more Hobbits trying to stop him if he went through the door. He went up to an open window and stopped to wait for Pippin to catch up. Brandy Hall was built mostly underground, but by the main entrance there were two floors above ground level. The windows on the upper floor were open now, to let fresh air in, and Pippin folded his hands and held them out for Merry to stand on. Merry grabbed a part of a beam that stuck out and put his foot in Pippin's hands, lifting all his weight over on that foot. He managed to grab the windowsill and pulled himself up while Pippin pushed from the other end. Once he had gotten inside he reached out his hand for Pippin who climbed up after him. They were inside.
"This way" Pippin whispered and led him out in the hall. "They're keeping her in the same room they found her ill. Nobody dares to go near save for Estella."
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Estella jumped slightly when she thought she heard the door open. Nobody had gone near that door since the day before when Lúthien had been discovered ill. Nobody had dared to. Estella had begun to accept that she would be alone with Lúthien until the lass died. There was no hope anymore, they would not let her take Lúthien to Crickhollow or even send word of her illness. Nobody could help them.
"Lúthie…" a voice said in the door.
Estella shook her head in disbelief. She was beginning to get delirious, she heard things that weren't there. Her heart wanted it so badly that it fooled the mind. She nearly had a heart attack from shock when Merry kneeled down beside her.
"Merry!" she gasped.
"Oh my Lúthie…" Merry whispered, seemingly unaware that Estella was there.
"She's dying" Estella said, breaking out in tears. "It's too late!"
"Never give up" Merry said and grabbed his pouch with the very last of the athelas. "I will not let her die if there is anything at all I can do for her. I cannot accept having gone through so much to get here and then arrive when it's too late!"
"Oh Merry…" Estella said and shook her head. "Not even you can help her now. You're here, I cannot believe you're here, but you cannot help her. All you can do is sit with me now, and together we will wake with her for as long as her life lasts. She does not recognise me anymore when she is awake. She is too ill. Had she been older she might have lived… But I've seen it in her for hours now. It is only a matter of time."
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Pippin entered the small library and rubbed his tired eyes. Merry was with Lúthien now, Pippin could only pray they had not been too late. He had done everything in his might but there was a chance he had not gotten Merry to her in time.
He noticed that he was not alone in the room. By the desk in the corner Éowyn was slumped, trying to write but unable to get anything down on paper. She had looked up when Pippin entered but then gone back to staring at her papers.
"Hey you…" Pippin said and walked closer to her. "How are you holding up?"
"My sister is dying" Éowyn said, sounding like she was about to cry.
"Perhaps she won't" Pippin said.
"I feel so bad" Éowyn said. "I've been so jealous of her. I've been so petty towards her. I wanted to be the only daughter. She came and stole my special place in the family, she's worn my clothes, played with my toys, but most of all… Most of all she…"
Éowyn paused and took a deep breath to compose herself. Pippin wished he could do something for her. It broke his heart to see his daughter at heart in this state. He wished he could take away all of her worries, sorrows and fears, or at the very least hold her in his arms and lull her to peace like he had done when she was little. But she was not little anymore, she was almost twenty years old and forced to face the brutality of life. He could not shield her from the pain just as he could not hold her in his arms and rock her to sleep.
"Most of all she stole Father" Éowyn finished her sentence, fighting back her tears. "She's his baby girl, I'm not his baby girl anymore! Half my life I was his only daughter but then Lúthien was born and changed everything."
"You're still everything you always have been to him" Pippin said.
"How could I have been so petty? I remember when Hamfast died how I promised Father I would no longer be jealous of Lúthien but to love her and look after her. She admires me, I know she looks up to me, she loves me so much! And I give her no reason at all to do so! But she never did anything wrong! She didn't ask to be born and to take her place as the youngest of the siblings. It was not her choice to be Father's baby girl! Yet I have punished her for all those things she could not help and now she is dying."
"She's not dying because of you" Pippin objected softly.
"But I haven't loved her the way I should" Éowyn said. "I will never forgive myself! She's my only sister! It's a rare gift! All she's ever wanted was to play and laugh and have fun, and now she has to die. And all will turn to silver glass…"
The door opened and Merry entered, as if having known they would be there. He walked over to Éowyn who was too shaken to be surprised by him being there.
"Da!" she cried out and threw her arms around his waist.
Merry wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head against his belly and finally wept. Merry gently shushed her and stroke her back. Pippin wished there was something he could say or do but knew there wasn't. All the world had been turned on its head, Lucky had been sent to safety but not his sister. And now here they were.
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Nobody spoke a word to him when Merry returned to Crickhollow the following afternoon. Nobody had anything to say. He had snuck off and nobody could think of any reason good enough for him to do so. There were sick people needing him at Crickhollow.
Merry passed by everyone he met without so much as a nod. He was through. What was the point anymore? There was no athelas, nothing could heal the sick. All he wanted was to pack up his things and go back to the Hall.
He was stopped in the hallway by Delfo Delvering, and somewhere in the back of his head a memory crept back to him. Last night before Pippin's arrival he was going to use the last of the athelas to heal Delfo's daughter. She was about the same age as Lúthien. The thought sent chills down Merry's spine.
Knowing he could not avoid this confrontation he opened the nearest door and went inside what turned out to be Sam's old bedroom. Delfo Delvering followed him and closed the door. Normally he would never approach Merry with any harsh words but right now he could not control himself. His daughter Fern had died shortly after midnight because Merry had left and forgotten to cure her. But Merry had not forgotten. He had chosen.
He knew he owed Delfo Delvering an explanation but he was too worn right now. In as short terms as possible he tried to explain the news he had gotten and why he had left. Delfo did not accept his explanation however.
"You took the last of the healing herb!" he said. "How could you do such a thing?"
"To save my daughter's life!" Merry said.
"But you had promised it to my daughter! What kind of a Master are you, who forsakes those he is supposed to look after?"
"What kind of Master I am? Delfo Delvering, what kind of father would I be if I abandoned my Lúthien in favor of your Fern? How can I be any kind of Master at all and look after the people in Buckland if I do not look after my own family first?"
"But you had promised it to my daughter and you let her die!"
"I could only save one of them" Merry said. "I had to make an instant choice. And as long as there was still any hope for my daughter I had to choose her. For she matters more to me than anyone in any other family."
"My daughter was a Delvering" Delfo said. "That's the issue, isn't it? You would never have done what you did had my daughter's last name been Brandybuck!"
"I would have done the exact same thing no matter what your daughter's last name!" Merry defended himself. "My own daughter came first. Could you have left Fern to die in favour of Lúthien? Could you? If not, don't be so quick as to pass out judgment."
"But you're not just any Hobbit" Delfo said. "You're the Master of Buckland. Your family cannot always come first with you."
"You're wrong" Merry said. "I am not the Master of Buckland. As of yesterday I am officially removed of all authority and deprived of all my titles. I am just like you, a father who would do anything for his baby girl."
The door opened and one of the medics stuck his head in.
"Pardon me Master…"
"How did you know I was in here?" Merry sighed and wondered if he would ever get to go back to Brandy Hall.
"I'm sorry. But they just brought Fredegar Bolger in."
Merry flew to his feet.
"Fatty! Where on earth has that sluggard been? Does he have the athelas? Is he all right? What has he said about Lucimac?"
"He has the Fever" the medic said. "I'm so sorry Master…"
"Put him in my old room" Merry commanded. "Hurry! How bad is he?"
"… Bad."
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Merry placed a wet cloth over Fatty's forehead and began preparing some athelas. Legolas had sent a lot, it would hopefully be enough to last for Merry to dry later. Right now however the most important thing was to tend to Fatty.
After Legolas had rode off with Lucky Fatty had gone to the Prancing Pony, afraid of riding back to the Shire in the dark. Once he was there he had been reluctant to leave the nice inn with the tasty ale, warm fireplace and from what he could tell, no illness. Little had he known that the Hobbit who had used his room before him had fallen ill to the Fever and even though they had been washed the sheets still held the disease. Once Fatty learned of the other Hobbit's fate he realised he would get ill as well and rode back to Buckland as fast as he could. He had fainted and fallen off his pony as he passed through the Main Gate and had been brought to Crickhollow.
Now he was under Merry's care. Merry didn't ask him why he had taken so long and he wasn't particularly interested of knowing. It would have made no difference had he arrived a day earlier, Merry would still have snuck out and Fern Delvering would still have died. Whatever wrongs Fatty had done in delaying he was now paying for it.
Merry knew there were others in need of care as well but he chose to take his time with preparing the athelas for Fatty. It gave him a little room to breathe and it gave him someone to focus on. Fatty was weak and seemed to have the Fever worse than the others. Either it was since he had been exposed to it for a long time or the Fever in Bree had gotten worse. Merry found it very unsettling, he worried about his brother-in-law.
He rose from his chair and walked up to the window. He had had so many good times in this room. This was where he and Estella had spent their first years as husband and wife, two of his children had been conceived here and a third born. No ill Hobbits had been placed in the nurseries or his, Pippin's, Sam's or Frodo's old bedrooms. Crickhollow had other bedrooms that could be used and placing more than one Hobbit in the same room had been good to help economise what little kingsfoil they had had. But Merry felt it was only right to put Fatty in his old bed.
He felt like there was no end to this night, a feeling he had had far too often in the past years. Too many Hobbits had died already and Fatty might be the next one. He should never have sent him to Bree with Lucky, he should have sent one of the shriffs. Lucky was safe but Fatty was fighting for his life.
"Fredegar…" Merry mumbled. "You saved Lucky's life. But has it cost you yours?"
"No…" Fatty whispered from his bed.
Merry turned his head in surprise. He hurried up to Fatty and shushed him.
"You need all your strength, do not talk."
"Merry…" Fatty moaned, barely able to talk. "My… fault…"
"Shush" Merry said.
"I… stayed… didn't… return… my… fault…"
"You always were a big fool" Merry said. "But there's nothing you can do to change that. Save your strength. I do not want to lose you too."
"Nobody's… sick… right?"
Merry lowered his head and sighed.
"Lúthien caught the Fever."
"No" Fatty whimpered. "Not Lúthien…"
Lúthien had always been the one of the children who was dearest to his heart. When Merry had been in Rohan when Lúthien was little Fatty had filled in as her father and come to love her like a daughter. For a moment Merry wished he hadn't said anything. Fatty needed to stay focused and keep his hope and strength.
"You will fight this" Merry said. "Do you hear me?"
"I… can't…"
"Oh yes you can" Merry said. "Others have survived, so shall you."
Fatty shook his head.
"No…"
"Yes" Merry said. "You'll feel much better once the athelas begins to work."
Fatty shook his head slowly and drifted back off to sleep. Merry began using the athelas and after a few minutes Fatty opened his eyes again. He looked at Merry with determination in his eyes.
"My sister…" he said.
"She is not here" Merry said. "She cannot come. She is isolated at Brandy Hall, nobody dares to go near her. She sat with Lúthien."
"Tell her… goodbye then…"
"You shush" Merry said. "And Fredegar… Thank you!"
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For more days than anyone could bother counting the Shire stayed under the threat of the Fever. Finally nobody else seemed to be falling ill and after a week of no new illnesses Mayor Samwise declared that the emergency was over and people were to go back to their normal lives. But things were not normal. Forty-three Hobbits had died, leaving thirty-five families in grief of a deceased family member. Nearly a hundred had been saved after falling ill but that did not seem to matter to anyone. Their thoughts were with those who had died, not those who had lived.
When the quarantine at Crickhollow was finally lifted Merry gathered his things in a rucksack and began walking back to Brandy Hall. He could have had a pony sent to him but he preferred getting to stretch his legs and breathe the free air. He had barely seen the sun in days and the sound of birds twittering warmed his heart. It was June now, and they were all free. Nobody had to fear falling ill and nobody had to face the death of a loved one.
Merry had a new challenge ahead of him now. He had been relieved of his command, authority and title during the night he had broken into Brandy Hall and now Buckland stood without a Master. The question was, who was to take over? Théodoc was only eighteen and too young yet, if it could be avoided Merry would rather see someone else as Master until Théo reached 33. The next of kin was Merry's cousin Berilac, whose father had been the younger brother of Master Saradoc. Berilac had filled in as Master in the past and when Merry had been presumed dead during the War he had been prepared to one day take over the Mastership in his dead cousin's place.
A great meeting would be held at Michael Delving in two days, where it would fall upon the people to accept or decline Berilac as the guardian of Théodoc's title. It was up to the Mayor and Thain to make it formal but tradition called for the people saying what they felt. Merry knew he had to attend and oddly enough he looked forward to it. If this was the price he had to pay for getting to his daughter then he would pay it.
He turned his head and looked back at Crickhollow. He wished he never had to set foot there again. So many deaths had occurred there, so many broken hearts and feverish nightmares. It was unreal that the house had once been the home of two couples with their whole lives ahead of them and with growing families. All the love that had once filled Crickhollow had vanished during the days of the Fever.
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Clad in his Gondorian armour and with his Elf cape flung over his shoulders Pippin strode back and forth while occasionally gesturing with his sword. The members of the shriffs sitting by the table listened without saying a word. Peregrin was their Captain and highest command and when he talked they listened.
Pippin was giving them a long speech about the duties of the shriffs and how even though they had done their job well during the Fever they had failed miserably during the night Merry had come to Brandy Hall. Merry was their Captain also and they had failed to follow his order. Pippin went on and on about how it was a disgrace and how he must have failed in training them. Since he had become Thain Pippin had made it his special project to turn the shriffs into figures more like the guards and soldiers in Gondor. They now wore special uniforms and had different ranks, and a different code to follow. Pippin claimed they had violated that code.
"With all due respect Thain…" the Hobbit who had held the spear on that night said. "Captain Merry needed to be removed of his command. He had lost his mind."
"No he hadn't" Pippin said and slammed his palms down on the table. "Let me tell you what losing your mind is. Losing your mind is not doing anything you can to get you your dying child, being willing to go to extreme measures to try and save that child's life! Losing your mind is giving up on that child and trying to burn yourself and your son alive!"
"Son?" one of the shriffs echoed.
"Or daughter!" Pippin said. "Merry had not lost his mind, you have not seen a parent lose his mind when facing the plausible death of their child. But I have. I did not see that with Meriadoc, he was not even close. May I remind you all that Buckland now stands without a Master after you relieving him off his authority? Today a new Master will be appointed yet the former is still more than fit to run his office. Have you all forgotten Sharkey?"
"The Shire was scoured decades ago" one youngster pointed out. "It is folly to believe that because Captain Merry saved us then he will still be fit to be Master now. Hobbits do not act out violently towards one another, Thain! Look at Bingo, look at the scar on his neck!"
"That was me" Pippin pointed out.
"Young Master Théo is ready" another Hobbit said. "He can take over. When Merry nearly died a few years ago he was made ready!"
"So a youngster who knows nothing yet of life and troubles shall be Master while his competent predecessor is wasted on managing crops and breeding ponies for the rest of his life? Théo is not yet ready, I see him every day, I know." Pippin began striding back and forth again. "This is one nice mess you have gotten us into. I'm ashamed of you all!"
The Hobbits sitting by the table hung their heads in shame as Pippin continued to talk. He noticed that they listened to him in a different way now than they had before. His manoeuvre with the blade had made them fear him a bit. He had not wanted to go to such lengths but now that he had he was going to make the most out of it. He would make sure they all respected his authority enough to from this moment on never directly disobey him again. He glanced at the clock on the wall. The meeting would have to end soon, it was almost time for the new Master to be appointed.
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Sam had not seen so many Hobbits in one place since the Scouring. The town square in Michel Delving was jam-packed with Hobbits who had come from all farthings of the Shire. Everybody seemed to wish to take part in this happening. Sam however wished he didn't have to. It was with a heavy heart that he prepared to officially announce that Meriadoc son of Saradoc no longer held the title Master of Buckland.
Merry was there with him, clad in his Rohirric armour and his cape. Sam had left his Elf cape at home, it didn't seem him fitting to wear it to such an occasion. He didn't understand at first why Merry had dressed up but his friend had explained it to him. If Théodoc was to take over Merry wanted to do it formally and honour his son.
Little Lúthien was in Merry's arms, more asleep than awake, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms hanging loosely around his neck. Her legs hung limp underneath her. She had survived just barely and for several days she had floated between life and death. Now she was extremely weak and could not stand up on her own, or barely sit. She was disoriented and had problems with language. Rarely she spoke, saying only a few words when she did, and she showed no interest in the things she had loved before she had fallen ill. Still she was improving. She was no longer unable to hold her head up and could sit on her own for a few minutes. Most of all she resembled a young child who had not yet learned to sit, walk and talk. But she could learn again.
"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked Merry and took a deep breath to brace himself.
"As ready as I'll ever be" Merry said. "Someone has to take Lúthie."
"Let me" Éowyn offered and lifted her sister into her own arms. Lúthien didn't protest, she seemed unaware of having been moved at all.
"Here we go then" Sam said and took another deep breath.
He hurried up on the small stage in the corner of the Town Square and immediately everyone silenced. Deciding that it was best to get it over with as soon as possible Sam began to address the reason they had all joined.
"As you probably know…" he began. "Circumstances that arose during the time in which the Fever was among us has led to a change."
Théodoc sat down on a large rock and hid his face in his hands as Sam continued to speak. He was near panic, he was anything but ready to become the new Master. He glanced over at his father's cousin Berilac and hoped he would be appointed his guardian during the upcoming years, prolonging it a bit. He couldn't believe how quickly things had been turned on their head, his father was alive and well and should by all rights still be the Master. Théo felt ready to faint.
Merry slowly stepped up on the stage and stood behind Sam as his friend continued to recap what had happened and explain the consequences. Nothing was said of how things had been at Crickhollow or the things Merry had accomplished as Master in the past. None of that was relevant. He had been relieved of his command under claims of being mentally unfit and whatever his past actions were they were irrelevant.
Sam was just about to address the different options they had now as to who would be the new Master when the gathered shriffs interrupted him. They had just left the tavern room where they had held their meeting and since people parted for them when they needed to get through they had made their way up to the stage. Pippin was not with them. The shriffs fell down on one knee and the spear holder spoke.
"Mayor Samwise, the shriffs have something to say."
"By all means" Sam said.
"We wish to offer our support for Captain Meriadoc."
"But you were the ones who relieve him off command" Sam said.
"Perhaps" the spear holder said. "Mayor Samwise we have held meeting since daybreak, discussions have gone back and forth, now we have reached an agreement. The shriffs will support Captain Meriadoc and ask him to forgive us for taking his titles away from him."
Sam gave Merry a bewildered look and Merry responded by raising his eyebrows. He had no better clue than Sam as to what was going on. But what difference did it make now?
"I thank you, second lieutenant of the shriffs" he said in response. "What you can do for me is to give that support to my son if he is to succeed me."
Far back in the crowd, right outside the tavern, Pippin stood casually leaned against a barrel. The shriffs were on their side now, but it had taken a lot of effort and discussion. They could not give Merry his Mastership back but it was important to Pippin that they supported him. Around him people started to talk amongst themselves when nothing further was said up on stage. Whispers went back and forth at the new development, which would not lead to any changes anyway. Pippin felt they were wasting their breaths but it was up to Sam to quiet the crowd.
Then everyone quieted on their own as Aramac got up on the stage with Lúthien in his arms. He looked quite small compared to his father and seemed a bit uncertain of how to handle the attention he was suddenly given, but the sixteen-year-old had gotten up there for a reason.
"This is my sister" he said and lifted Lúthien up a bit. "She is weak. But she is alive. One of the reasons stated as to why my father must be relieved of his office and command is that he took off to Brandy Hall with the last of the Healing Herbs and left a ten-year-old lass to die. My sister is ten. Two lives were at stake that night, my sisters and Fern Delvering's. All of you here think my father should no longer be Master because he chose to save my sister." He lifted Lúthien up slightly again. "This is the lass you all think should be dead. Full of life she is, when she is not ill like this. She loves to run through the fields, she loves to play with the farm animals, she loves to help her mother out with household chores. She loves stories and songs. She loves life. But you all wish she were dead now instead of Fern Delvering. I just wanted you all to know who my sister is before you pass out such judgement. Never let it be said that my father is unfit for having saved his daughter's life, if you cannot care for those closest to you then you will never be able to care for an entire town. My sister is alive still… I just wanted you to see her. Those of you who did not know Fern Delvering, what is it about my sister that makes you wish she were the dead one?"
Nobody said anything and Aramac glanced nervously at his father and uncle Sam. Neither of them could believe what Aramac had just said and done but they did not hold it against him. Everybody seemed to have forgotten that Fern's life was sacrificed for another to live, now Aramac had reminded them of that.
Lúthien lifted her head slightly and looked at Merry.
"Da…" she said.
Merry gently lifted her over to his own arms and then looked at Sam.
"Get this over with" he commanded.
"A new Master has to be appointed" Sam said with sadness. "That is why we have all gathered here today. We…" He shook his head and then looked over at Théodoc who seemed ready to be sick. He was not yet ready and everyone close to him knew it. "As tradition calls for, the title and all its responsibilities and authorities shall pass to the firstborn son."
"Are you ready to be Master?" a voice from the crowd asked Aramac.
"I'm not the firstborn son" Aramac replied. "I have an older brother."
"Well where is he?"
"Mayor Samwise!" a lass in the crowd said. "Young Master Brandybuck is still a teenager. Master Berilac, who had held office in Master Merry's absence, did not manage as well as the real Master. I remember the Scouring very well, Mayor Samwise. I remember what you all did for us. Looking at Master Merry's daughter I feel ashamed. We have taken his authority and birthright from him as punishment for looking after his own. The shriffs have declared they are on his side, the rest of us should be too."
"The Mayor is on his side too" Sam said.
"We ought to give Master Merry another chance" the lass said. "I say we give him back the Mastership of Buckland. There is no better solution."
"Here, here!" someone cried through the wild discussions that broke out in the crowd.
"Silence!" Sam demanded and got it. "I support that suggestion. The Thain, wherever he is, has declared his support as well through the shriffs. Those of you who see no reason why Meriadoc son of Saradoc cannot be given his titles back, raise your hand in the air."
A number of hands went into the air but it was clear that most hands remained down. Sam nodded.
"Very well then. As it is really my authority and the Thain's which makes the decision in this matter Thain Peregrin and I hereby declare it official. Meriadoc, you are Master of the Hall again. Théodoc will remain your heir until the day comes when old age, some unfortune or any strong enough reason arises that will make him Master in your place. I hereby declare this meeting over."
Ignoring the loud cries of all kinds coming from the crowd Sam walked off the stage with Merry and Aramac in tow. One of the shriffs came up and lifted Lúthien from Merry's arms, pushing him into the group of shriffs waiting for him. Merry walked in the middle of them through the crowds, shielded from both friendly and unfriendly comments from the people, until they reached the tavern. The shriffs dispersed and bowed to Merry whose eyes met Pippin's. Pippin had remained by his barrel during the meeting and was the one who had cried out 'here, here'. Sam had heard him and accepted it as his official consent.
Pippin grinned at his cousin, relieved that everything had worked out. The trial was over. The two cousins looked at each other, one grinning, the other serious. The Thain and the re-appointed Master. "I have you to thank" Merry said. "I didn't handle the situation with Lúthien very well that night, did I?"
"You were magnificent" Pippin grinned.
Merry didn't answer. Everyone around them was observing them right now to see what would happen next. They expected an answer from Merry but didn't get one. He had nothing else to say. Merry bowed deeply to Pippin.
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Thank you for reading! The Fever is a fictional disease, though based on actual ones. See you all next week, please leave a review!
Disclaimer: See previous chapters.
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"Is this going to take long?" Fredegar complained as Merry handed him Dusky's reins.
"Perhaps" Merry said. "I'm sorry Fatty, but this has to come first."
Fatty made a face. They had planned on riding to the inn and have a few pints of ale but on the way Merry had been waved in by a Hobbit whose children were sick. Merry promised he would take a look at them, which meant Fatty would have to wait at least thirty more minutes before he could have his ale.
Merry ignored his brother-in-law's pouting and followed the other Hobbit inside. He was one of the Delverings, a Hobbit family who traditionally were the lowest class in Buckland. They owned the least fertile soils and did most of the unpleasant work. None of them had any money to speak of. Fatty evilly wished Merry would leave them be and not worry his head about them, in Fatty's eyes they were not as important as the ale waiting for them at the inn. But Merry felt differently.
"They just came sick this morning!" Cobe Delvering said to Merry as he led him to his nursery. "They seemed fine yesterday!"
"Sometimes it catches you off-guard" Merry said. "But I would not be alarmed if I were you. It's spring, everybody's running around outside far too undressed, and since we had snow this winter the ground is wet now. I know I'll be tending to my own children before long when they bring the cold on themselves."
He walked into the nursery and found Delvering's wife there, watching over two sick youngsters. Merry estimated their ages to about eight and six. He sat down on a stool next to them and placed his hand on the boy's forehead. The nervous parents answered all his questions and watched him examine the children. A frown appeared on Merry's forehead.
"And you saw no signs at all of this yesterday?"
"None!" Mrs. Delvering said.
"Nothing? Neither complained about a headache, sore throat, anything like that? They didn't look like they were getting a temperature?"
"No" Delvering said. "In fact Master… They did not seem ill this morning either! They were perfectly fine until they both fainted after afternoon tea!"
"Have they been anywhere out of the ordinary recently?" Merry asked.
"Why, yes in fact" Delvering said. "My wife, she was midwifing her sister, see? So I brought the children with me when I went to Bree to trade some mathoms in for blankets and pots. They were both very excited, they had never been to Bree before, and not me either!"
"Bree, you say…" Merry said thoughtfully. "Pots and blankets was it?"
"Yes."
Merry took a deep breath.
"Go outside to Fatty Bolger. Tell him to go to Brandy Hall, get Lucky on a horse with him and ride to Bree. Tell him that Legolas Greenleaf will meet him by the gates of the city, Lucky is not to pass through the gates. Fatty shall leave him with Legolas and then head back home."
"Is something the matter?" Mrs. Delvering asked.
"Get Fatty the message, now!" Merry said and then turned to Mrs. Delvering. "And you get me a pen and paper!"
Delvering and his wife hurried off. Merry wished they would hurry even more. He had heard about their children's condition but nobody had had it in the Shire for over two-hundred years. Knowing how Lucky caught everything that went around he had to get the lad out of the Shire. The dreaded Fever, which was the only name the Hobbits remembered for the condition, was in almost every case deadly. He thanked his lucky star that Legolas was currently in Rivendell and could ride to meet his son.
Mrs. Delvering came back with a piece of paper and a pen and Merry quickly scrabbled a note where he explained the situation to his Elf friend and begged him to help. He also remembered to ask him for some athelas to send with Fatty, Merry's stock was running low. Just as he finished his note Delvering came back.
"Master Fatty wants to know--"
"Has he not yet left?" Merry said angrily. "I swear I'll wring his neck one of these days! Be sure to tell him he can not stop for ales on the way!"
"Pardon me Master" Delvering said. "All he wants to know is how to recognise this Legolas."
"He'll be wearing a cape just like mine" Merry said. "Do you have any pigeons? This message needs to be sent to Master Legolas as soon as possible!"
Delvering bowed and left with the note to find Fatty and a pigeon. Merry sighed and rubbed his aching temples. If the children had the Fever he could only hope they had not been in contact with anyone else recently.
"Master, what is wrong with my children?" Mrs. Delvering asked, fighting back her tears.
"Have the children been in contact with anyone else since their return?" Merry asked. Mrs Delvering shook her head. "That's good. What about the pots and blankets, what did you do with them?"
"Should I get them?" Mrs. Delvering asked.
"No!" Merry said. "I just need to know what you did with them."
"Some we kept" Mrs. Delvering said. Realising how the rest of the answer would go Merry sighed deeply. "The rest we traded with our friends and family. And, and Cobe sold a few at the market two days ago."
"Then we have a problem" Merry said.
"What is going on?" Delvering asked, appearing in the doorway.
"They have the Fever" Merry said.
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"Your son is here, Master!" Delvering announced.
Merry hurried outside to make sure Théodoc didn't get too close. He did not want to risk him catching the Fever and he wasn't sure exactly how it spread. If it spread through breath Théo had to stay away.
"Do you have it?" he asked Théo when his son stopped twenty yards away. For once Théo was on a pony and the beast seemed nervous. Merry didn't take that as a good sign.
"I have it" Théo said and lifted up a small pouch.
"Is that all of it?"
"Yes" Théo said.
"Then let us hope we won't get many more patients."
Théo tossed the pouch to his father and Merry caught it. When he held the pouch he could feel that it was heavier than it looked, which hopefully meant that there was more athelas left than he had just thought. If more people fell ill, which they were bound to do if the pots and blankets had been spread out, they would need every shred of athelas they could find. But kingsfoil was hard to come by in the Shire these days.
"Thank you Théo" Merry said. "Did Lucky get off okay?"
"Yes" Théo said. "But we don't understand! What is going on?"
"Make sure word spreads that I am here" Merry said. "I don't want people coming to the Hall to get help when they're ill. Make sure they come here instead."
Théodoc opened his mouth to ask the reason why but thought the better of it. He knew better than to ask questions when his father obviously didn't want to talk. He drove his pony to a gallop and headed toward the market. It would be the safest spot to start spreading the word.
"Gather the blankets you still have" Merry said to Delvering. "Smash the pots and wrap the blankets around them. Then burn the blankets. Ride around to everyone you've given a pot or a blanket to and have them do the same. And tell them to come here if they fall ill."
"Smash the pots?" Delvering repeated. "Burn the blankets? Master I don't think you understands! We traded most of our mathoms for those pots and blankets, their value is very great for us! We don't have a lot of things, Master!"
"The Fever is in the blankets" Merry said. "It's the only known way that the disease spreads. Once it has gotten into a blanket it will never get out of it, the only thing to do is to burn it. Since we don't know in what other ways the Fever might spread we must smash the pots also. Do this as fast as you can Delvering, before it is too late!"
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"Will they die?" Mrs. Delvering asked and began to cry again. Merry was back with her children, preparing some of the athelas. He used as little as he dared to, hoping to be able to save as much as possible.
"I hope they won't" Merry said. "They still have a chance."
"But Fever, it kills!" Mrs. Delvering said. "I know the stories well, how it killed everyone who fell ill when last it came!"
"But I was not here when last it came" Merry said with confidence. "I have not given up on your children yet."
"Master" Delvering said with a heavy sigh, appearing in the door.
"What is it?"
"People are coming… Many people."
Merry got up and went outside to have a look. Dozens of Hobbits were coming from every direction, most of them Delverings but Merry recognised two Brandybucks among them. Luckily they weren't from Brandy Hall, at least the Fever hadn't gotten to the home of so many yet. Merry lifted a hand to shadow the sun and took a deep breath. He prayed he had enough athelas. If he had any luck at all the Fever spread only through the blankets, and once they were burned the deadly illness would be stopped.
"What are we going to do?" Delvering asked. "We cannot have them all stay here! There's no room!"
"Master Merry!" one of the Brandybucks said. "Can you help? You must help…"
"Indeed we cannot all stay here" Merry said.
"Should we go back to our homes?" one of the Delvering asked. "When will you then have the time to come see us? What if you cannot come until it is too late!"
"You're right, we need everyone gathered at the same place" Merry agreed.
"But they cannot all stay here!" Delvering objected once more.
Merry nodded slowly. They had to gather somewhere else. But where?
"Crickhollow" he then said.
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The night was pitch black, darker than a spring night would normally be. Heavy clouds hid the stars and the moon and drenched all sources of light. The walls surrounding Bree were dark as well and let no light out from the little town. Fatty knew that on the other side of these walls a warm and friendly town waited, he wished with all his heart he could be there instead of out here. He had never been to Bree but he had never longed more to see the town than he did right now.
There was only one light nearby, a lantern hanging from a pole right in front of Fatty. It cast a comforting light on the ground and would have made Fatty feel a little better had it not been for how the light only made the scary things scarier.
The light from the lantern reflected in a puddle on the ground. It had rained in Bree earlier in the evening and would surely rain some more later. It was as if the rain had taken a break in order for this meeting to take place, Fatty felt like it was luring around the corner to all fall down on him and make him soaking wet as soon as the meeting was over. It was a scary thought.
Somewhere an owl howled. Fatty hated owls. Fatty hated any animal that scared him when the night was dark. He had never had half the courage his brother-in-law possessed. He longed for a nice warm fireplace, a half-pint of ale and some mushrooms to eat. He didn't want to be out here in the dark.
He held his hands firmly on Lucky's shoulders as if protecting the boy from any attack that might come from behind. But Fatty was not scared of anything behind him. He was scared of what was before him. Three tall dark figures on tall dark horses. He would not have been able to see them at all had they not been close enough to the lantern to have some traces of light fall upon them. The three figures wore dark cloaks that seemed to reach as far down as their ankles and Fatty could not make out any facial features. He had only been this scared one before in his life, when he had stood before a Black Rider. These three characters reminded him of them so much that he in his heart doubted that Merry had been telling the truth when he said that those Riders were no more.
"Uncle Fatty…" Lucky whispered. "I'm scared."
"Identify yourselves!" Fatty said, his voice trembling. If only he could be strong and confident for the boy's sake!
"I am here for Meriadoc's son" one of the figures said.
"Legolas Greenleaf?"
"I have come for the son of Meriadoc" the figure repeated. "You have him."
"Step into the light! How will I know that you are Legolas unless you step into the light?"
"How would you recognise someone you had never met before?" the figure asked.
"Merry told me what to look for!" Fatty asked, sounding a bit more confident when he had a reply to the dark figure. "'Look for a cape just like mine', he said!"
The figure dismounted his horse.
"A dear old fool he remains" he said. "What foolishness to send such an important message and such an important treasure with someone with no sense in his head."
Legolas stepped into the lights. Lucky and Fatty's jaws dropped at the same time. Neither had ever seen an Elf before.
"You should not have told me what you were to look for" Legolas said. "For how would you then know for sure that I was not casting some spell upon your eyes to make you see what you expected to see?" He took off his dark hooded cape and revealed an Elf cape just like Merry's hanging from his shoulders. "Would you not expect an Elf to be wearing an Elven cape?" he asked. "How can you tell that this is the exact same kind as Merry's?"
Fatty blushed and looked away. Lucky however squinted and stood on his tiptoes to get a better look.
"The brooch is exactly the same as Father's!" he said. "Father says those brooches are special and cannot be find on more than nine capes in the world."
"At least someone with some sense" Legolas said. "Yes I am indeed Legolas Greenleaf, sent by your father to meet you here and bring you to safety. Has he ever told you about Rivendell?"
"Rivendell!" Lucky exclaimed, unable to believe his good fortune. "The Elven city!"
"You shall ride with me there and you shall be safe." Legolas kneeled and reached out his hand to Lucky. "Come Lucimac Brandybuck."
Lucky was not afraid anymore. He knew who Legolas was. His father had told him many stories about him. Lucky had never felt a more intoxicating feeling in all his life, not only was he heading off to adventures and getting to see those lands his father had traveled through so many years ago. In front of him now stood a member of the Fellowship of the Ring. So it was all true, then. Those fragments of stories he had been told, of fantastic people and fantastic places, they were all true. The proof was standing right before his eyes. He took the hand Legolas had extended and let the Elf lift him up on his horse.
"That horse is mighty big!" Fatty objected, now both scared and humiliated.
"Merry asked me to keep his son safe and so I shall" Legolas said. "I will not let him fall from the horse!"
"It's okay, Uncle Fatty!" Lucky exclaimed happily.
"Give this to Merry" Legolas said and handed Fatty a large pouch and a letter. "Travel with haste. Lives depend on it."
Then Legolas mounted his horse and Fatty gasped when he saw that the animal had no saddle or reins. He couldn't believe he was letting his nephew ride off on the largest horse he had ever seen without any protection from falling to the ground. But before he could protest Legolas had put his cloak back on and wrapped it around Lucky as well so the child was barely visible. Then the three riders turned their horses around and galloped off into the night.
Left alone behind stood Fatty Bolger, longing even more for ale and a nice fireplace.
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Dark was the night at Crickhollow when Merry took his refuge to the kitchen for something to eat. He would have to eat fast, there was a young lass who needed athelas quite soon. She would get the last of it. Merry had treated twenty Hobbits in the past few days and by now his supply of kingsfoil was almost spent. He wondered what could be keeping Fatty so long, he wished he would return soon with the very important herbs.
He had sent out five young medic trainees to search for more kingsfoil. The plant did grow in the Shire but unfortunately a lot of people saw it as a weed and got rid of it. Merry had told the youngsters to search every garden and every flowerbed in the Shire if they had to.
Marcoro Took, a medic from Tuckburough, came and sat down opposite Merry to have something to eat as well. All medics in the Shire had gathered at Crickhollow but none of them knew what to do with the athelas. In truth none of them believed that the weed did any good at all. They couldn't explain how Merry could heal people from the Fever but they were not yet ready to recognise such great powers in a weed. They preferred to believe that Merry did magic. The result of their disbelief was that Merry was on his own to treat the ill Hobbits who came from all parts of the Shire now, while the other medics did whatever they could to ease aching throats, heads and muscles.
Merry was exhausted. He had not seen his family in days, Brandy Hall was pretty much locked down, nobody was allowed to go in or out. If the Fever began to spread through Brandy Hall far too many would fall ill in far too short period of time. The Great Smials were also kept under supervision but the Tooks had a little more freedom. Especially Pippin, who was in charge of the shriffs, who worked hard to keep Brandy Hall and Crickhollow secluded.
"Have you gotten any further on how it spreads?" Merry asked Marcoro while they ate.
"I'm not sure" Marcoro said. "What we know is that it spreads through blankets, and through sharing cups and cutlery. At least it does not appear to be spreading through the air with our breaths. May every mighty power in this world help us if it began to spread that way…"
"There would be no stopping it then" Merry said and took a deep breath. "What a mess… What ill did we do to deserve the Fever? You are all very brave Marcoro to come here and work at the risk of your lives."
"We'd better hope we don't start catching it" Marcoro said. "If we begin to die, who is going to be the medic then?"
Merry nodded and slowly continued with his soup. He really should be hurrying up but he needed this moment to sit back and relax. Suddenly he squinted, thinking he could see something through the window.
"Oh no…" he said. "Don't tell me they're bringing another one in!"
He rose from his chair and went to the window. It was dark out and difficult to see. Whoever it was ought to have brought a light. Then suddenly he saw who it was. It was Pippin, frantically waving to his left. Merry nodded slightly.
"Who is it?" Marcoro asked.
"No one" Merry said. "This exhaustion is making me see things!"
"Take a few hours to rest, Master" Marcoro said.
"In a while perhaps" Merry said. "I need to treat the Delvering lass first. She won't make it through the night unless I do."
He left the kitchen but did not go to fetch the herbs. Instead he was headed for his study. He closed the door very carefully behind him, hoping no one had noticed him going in there. Anyone who had set foot inside Crickhollow was strictly forbidden to have any form of contact with those on the outside as long as they weren't sure what caused the Fever to spread. When Merry and the other medics needed something from their apprentices they sent word through the old-fashioned method of tying a note to something heavy and tossing it out an open window. It was getting ridiculous.
Merry strode up to his window, which unlike the window in Pippin's study could open. Pippin was crouched in the bushes underneath the window and Merry leaned his upper-body out to talk to him. Pippin reached his hands up to him and held his cousin's hands in his own. They had not seen each other in days, it was good to be near one another once more.
"Nobody can see us" Pippin whispered. "Nobody knows I'm here. Nobody should be able to hear us either but we'd better keep our voices down just to be on the safe side." He paused. "How are you doing, Merry?"
"I'm just fine" Merry said. "You shouldn't have come, I fear I'll pass something on to you. Though it's balm for my soul to hear your voice."
Pippin rewarded him with a smile. Merry had seen that smile once before, when they had been captivated by the orcs. It was the smile Pippin had given him in the middle of their despair when he had heard his cousin was okay. It was that wonderful smile of relief, only someone like Pippin could smile like that when things looked so dark.
"You are not ill" Pippin stated.
"Through some miracle" Merry said. "How's Tuckburough? Is there anyone still out there who isn't ill? I've seen so many Hobbits deadly sick in these past few days that I've almost forgotten how a healthy Hobbit looks."
"Many have died?" Pippin said sadly.
"Many have also lived" Merry said. "We cannot cure all of them, but we could have been much worse off. It is so great to see you again, Pippin Took."
"I wish I could be there with you and help you through this ordeal" Pippin said. "But I have got my own to think about. The silly klutzes in the shriffs are not used to working hard, you wouldn't believe how low their discipline is!"
"No news from Fatty?" Merry asked.
"No" Pippin said. "I'm sorry Merry."
"He should have been back by now! You don't suppose anything has happened to Lucimac, do you?"
"Legolas would have sent word if so" Pippin said. "Old Fatty's probably lost and can't find his way back or something. He'll show up, don't worry."
"I need that athelas!" Merry said.
"You'll get it…" Pippin said.
"So you've come only to lift my spirits a bit?" Merry asked and smiled. "You're putting yourself in a huge risk in doing so!"
The smile vanished from Pippin's face and he had to turn his head for a moment. He found it hard looking into Merry's eyes right now.
"Unfortunately…" Pippin said. "Unfortunately I am not here for that reason. I have ill news to bring you."
"Pippin, nothing has happened to your family has it?" Merry asked, gripping Pippin's hands harder. "Are Faramir and Diamond fine?"
"Merry…" Pippin sighed. "It's Lúthien. She's got the Fever."
"What?" Merry asked sternly.
"She's sick" Pippin said tenderly and reached up a hand to gently caress Merry's cheek. "She fell ill yesterday."
"Yesterday?" Merry repeated. "Yesterday?"
"Yesterday" Pippin nodded. "I've spent every waking moment since word came to me trying to figure out how to get you the message. I tried to have her moved here but they refuse to let her leave the room at the Hall. They're afraid she'll leave the illness like a trail behind her, infesting every room and hall she passes! Everyone is terrified, Merry! I've done everything I could but they refused to even let me into her room."
"But how did she get it?" Merry asked. "Was she outside?"
"I don't know" Pippin said. "But she went with Estella to the market earlier in the week. Perhaps she got in contact with one of those blankets?"
"But if so why hasn't she fallen ill sooner?" Merry said. He closed his eyes and cried out with frustration.
Pippin shushed him as loudly as he dared to.
"Someone might hear you!"
"They're just going to leave her like that?" Merry asked. "They're just going to let my baby die? Fever kills the one who doesn't get treatment! They will let that happen to her? I won't let them!"
He let go of Pippin's hands and stormed off. Pippin remained by the window, waiting for whatever message or herb Merry might be coming back with. His jaw nearly dropped with surprise when Merry after ten minutes came jumping out the window and nearly knocked Pippin over in the fall. Merry had grabbed the very last athelas and flung his Elf cape over his shoulders and looked at his cousin with determined eyes.
"If they won't let her come to me then I shall come to her" he said resolutely. "How could they leave her to die?"
"You're sure about this?" Pippin asked and began to close the window as much as he could from the outside. He knew Merry was sure but he thought it was best to ask. "You're needed here too."
"I have only athelas to save one more life" Merry said. "Once it is spent I am as useless or as useful as the other medics. My presence won't make a difference until Fatty returns or those darn trainees find some kingsfoil!"
Pippin nodded. He made his way through the brushes to where he had hid his pony and Merry followed close behind. Their Elf capes shielded them from the eyes of the shriffs standing on guard by the gates and the door to Crickhollow. Merry distrustfully shook his head as Pippin untied the pony's reins.
"How we are to pass them by unnoticed is a mystery to me" he said. "But do it we must."
"Please Merry" Pippin said. "I got past them once, I can do it again." He mounted his pony and reached out his hand to Merry. "Up you go! Crow can carry both of us, it's not a long distance. Come on!"
Merry continued to glare distrustfully at the guards by the gate but Pippin steered Crow in the other direction. Late in the previous night he had ridden to a spot where the fence was partly concealed by trees and had resolutely sawed off some beams to make an entrance. He had used that hole to get in earlier this evening and now he used it to get out. Once they were at a safe enough distance he drove Crow to a gallop.
But there was no way to sneak into Brandy Hall unnoticed. Every single entrance was carefully guarded and lanterns were hung all around so that nobody could hide in the shadows and climb through a window. Knowing this Pippin headed straight for the main entrance. If they had to get past shriffs then they might as well do so by the main entrance.
Merry quickly got down on the ground when they came close enough to the Hall and walked up to the six Hobbits guarding the door, walking as if it was just an ordinary night. One of them raised his spear.
"Stop!" he said. "You are supposed to be at Crickhollow, you are not meant to leave! The Fever might come with you!"
"I've left Crickhollow" Merry said. "I need to get inside Brandy Hall."
"I cannot let you get through, Master" the Hobbit said.
"This is my home, do not tell me what I can and cannot do" Merry said. "Or do you wish to hold me back? And perhaps catch the Fever?"
"If we must" the Hobbit said. "We cannot let you go inside and infect everyone living there. I'm sorry Master."
"Lúthien is sick!" Merry said, getting more and more upset. "I have to get to her, you have to let me through! Please!"
"I'm sorry" the Hobbit said.
"Let me through!" Merry commanded and tried to get past the shriffs.
Pippin stood back and said nothing as two of the shriffs grabbed a hold of Merry and held him back. Pippin could not help but admire the two, they knew they were putting themselves in the risk of catching the Fever but they still held Merry back in order to protect those living at the Hall. Merry struggled with all his might to get loose and he directed all of his anger and frustration at the poor shriff with the spear.
"She's my daughter!" he cried. "You have to let me through. Her life depends on it! Please, have a heart!"
"It would risk the lives of all living at Brandy Hall" the spear-holding Hobbit said firmly. "Think of how many that could die!"
"But she's my child!" Merry cried, near hysteria. "She is sick! You have to let me see her! I am the Master of Buckland and I demand you let me in! My baby is dying! Are you not a father? Do you not understand? I cannot let her die, she is my daughter!"
Suddenly he managed to get a hand loose and before anyone had a chance to react he had drawn his sword. The Hobbit who had lost his grip of Merry's hand quickly backed away and Merry had no trouble shaking loose the other one. He took a step up to the other shriffs and held his blade up to the chin of the Hobbit with the spear.
"Let me through right now" he said, suddenly sounding very calm and very threatening. "It is an order not a suggestion."
But he had underestimated the shriff, who in spite of his obvious fear did not budge.
"I cannot let you pass" he said.
"I have killed far more than you could count with a blade" Merry said. "And not only orcs! You would be surprised! A little rat like you would be no match for me, don't you for a second doubt that I would not kill you to get to my daughter!"
"You kill me and everyone here will witness it" the shriff said and swallowed.
"The king will pardon me" Merry said. "Let me inside."
"Master…" the shriff said. "You are hereby relieved of your command and authority. You have lost your mind."
Suddenly another blade appeared, this time resting against the throat of a nervous young shriff standing next to the one with the spear. The blade was held by Pippin, who had snuck up unseen, camouflaged by his Elf cape and his black Gondorian armor.
"This blade too has killed more than you could count" he said icily. "You stand between us and our sick child. How highly do you think we value your life under such circumstances?"
"But we are here on your command!" one of the shriffs cried out. "We were posted here by you, ordered to not let anyone through!"
"And your Master has just given you another order" Pippin said. "Relieve him from his authority if you think that might help. But I still hold full authority over the shriffs and cannot be relieved from such by any other command than that of the Master and the Mayor together. And I order you to let us through!"
With more precision than anyone knew he slowly and casually slid his blade across the young shriff's throat, scraping the skin enough to make him bleed but skillfully avoiding any serious injuries. The unlucky Hobbit exposed to this treatment did not see it as quite as safe as Pippin, and broke down crying. The act had the effect Pippin had intended, it scared the shriffs to follow his command. The Hobbit with the spear held his head high even though he feared having Merry's far less steady sword put him through the same treatment, and stepped aside.
"You will never get through that door" he said. "You do so Master Merry and it will be the death of many."
Merry ignored him and put his sword back in its scabbard. He was not scared of any threats coming from the shriffs and he was certain he would not pass the Fever on to anyone simply by walking the halls of his home. But one thing was sure, he would encounter many more Hobbits trying to stop him if he went through the door. He went up to an open window and stopped to wait for Pippin to catch up. Brandy Hall was built mostly underground, but by the main entrance there were two floors above ground level. The windows on the upper floor were open now, to let fresh air in, and Pippin folded his hands and held them out for Merry to stand on. Merry grabbed a part of a beam that stuck out and put his foot in Pippin's hands, lifting all his weight over on that foot. He managed to grab the windowsill and pulled himself up while Pippin pushed from the other end. Once he had gotten inside he reached out his hand for Pippin who climbed up after him. They were inside.
"This way" Pippin whispered and led him out in the hall. "They're keeping her in the same room they found her ill. Nobody dares to go near save for Estella."
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Estella jumped slightly when she thought she heard the door open. Nobody had gone near that door since the day before when Lúthien had been discovered ill. Nobody had dared to. Estella had begun to accept that she would be alone with Lúthien until the lass died. There was no hope anymore, they would not let her take Lúthien to Crickhollow or even send word of her illness. Nobody could help them.
"Lúthie…" a voice said in the door.
Estella shook her head in disbelief. She was beginning to get delirious, she heard things that weren't there. Her heart wanted it so badly that it fooled the mind. She nearly had a heart attack from shock when Merry kneeled down beside her.
"Merry!" she gasped.
"Oh my Lúthie…" Merry whispered, seemingly unaware that Estella was there.
"She's dying" Estella said, breaking out in tears. "It's too late!"
"Never give up" Merry said and grabbed his pouch with the very last of the athelas. "I will not let her die if there is anything at all I can do for her. I cannot accept having gone through so much to get here and then arrive when it's too late!"
"Oh Merry…" Estella said and shook her head. "Not even you can help her now. You're here, I cannot believe you're here, but you cannot help her. All you can do is sit with me now, and together we will wake with her for as long as her life lasts. She does not recognise me anymore when she is awake. She is too ill. Had she been older she might have lived… But I've seen it in her for hours now. It is only a matter of time."
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Pippin entered the small library and rubbed his tired eyes. Merry was with Lúthien now, Pippin could only pray they had not been too late. He had done everything in his might but there was a chance he had not gotten Merry to her in time.
He noticed that he was not alone in the room. By the desk in the corner Éowyn was slumped, trying to write but unable to get anything down on paper. She had looked up when Pippin entered but then gone back to staring at her papers.
"Hey you…" Pippin said and walked closer to her. "How are you holding up?"
"My sister is dying" Éowyn said, sounding like she was about to cry.
"Perhaps she won't" Pippin said.
"I feel so bad" Éowyn said. "I've been so jealous of her. I've been so petty towards her. I wanted to be the only daughter. She came and stole my special place in the family, she's worn my clothes, played with my toys, but most of all… Most of all she…"
Éowyn paused and took a deep breath to compose herself. Pippin wished he could do something for her. It broke his heart to see his daughter at heart in this state. He wished he could take away all of her worries, sorrows and fears, or at the very least hold her in his arms and lull her to peace like he had done when she was little. But she was not little anymore, she was almost twenty years old and forced to face the brutality of life. He could not shield her from the pain just as he could not hold her in his arms and rock her to sleep.
"Most of all she stole Father" Éowyn finished her sentence, fighting back her tears. "She's his baby girl, I'm not his baby girl anymore! Half my life I was his only daughter but then Lúthien was born and changed everything."
"You're still everything you always have been to him" Pippin said.
"How could I have been so petty? I remember when Hamfast died how I promised Father I would no longer be jealous of Lúthien but to love her and look after her. She admires me, I know she looks up to me, she loves me so much! And I give her no reason at all to do so! But she never did anything wrong! She didn't ask to be born and to take her place as the youngest of the siblings. It was not her choice to be Father's baby girl! Yet I have punished her for all those things she could not help and now she is dying."
"She's not dying because of you" Pippin objected softly.
"But I haven't loved her the way I should" Éowyn said. "I will never forgive myself! She's my only sister! It's a rare gift! All she's ever wanted was to play and laugh and have fun, and now she has to die. And all will turn to silver glass…"
The door opened and Merry entered, as if having known they would be there. He walked over to Éowyn who was too shaken to be surprised by him being there.
"Da!" she cried out and threw her arms around his waist.
Merry wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her head against his belly and finally wept. Merry gently shushed her and stroke her back. Pippin wished there was something he could say or do but knew there wasn't. All the world had been turned on its head, Lucky had been sent to safety but not his sister. And now here they were.
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Nobody spoke a word to him when Merry returned to Crickhollow the following afternoon. Nobody had anything to say. He had snuck off and nobody could think of any reason good enough for him to do so. There were sick people needing him at Crickhollow.
Merry passed by everyone he met without so much as a nod. He was through. What was the point anymore? There was no athelas, nothing could heal the sick. All he wanted was to pack up his things and go back to the Hall.
He was stopped in the hallway by Delfo Delvering, and somewhere in the back of his head a memory crept back to him. Last night before Pippin's arrival he was going to use the last of the athelas to heal Delfo's daughter. She was about the same age as Lúthien. The thought sent chills down Merry's spine.
Knowing he could not avoid this confrontation he opened the nearest door and went inside what turned out to be Sam's old bedroom. Delfo Delvering followed him and closed the door. Normally he would never approach Merry with any harsh words but right now he could not control himself. His daughter Fern had died shortly after midnight because Merry had left and forgotten to cure her. But Merry had not forgotten. He had chosen.
He knew he owed Delfo Delvering an explanation but he was too worn right now. In as short terms as possible he tried to explain the news he had gotten and why he had left. Delfo did not accept his explanation however.
"You took the last of the healing herb!" he said. "How could you do such a thing?"
"To save my daughter's life!" Merry said.
"But you had promised it to my daughter! What kind of a Master are you, who forsakes those he is supposed to look after?"
"What kind of Master I am? Delfo Delvering, what kind of father would I be if I abandoned my Lúthien in favor of your Fern? How can I be any kind of Master at all and look after the people in Buckland if I do not look after my own family first?"
"But you had promised it to my daughter and you let her die!"
"I could only save one of them" Merry said. "I had to make an instant choice. And as long as there was still any hope for my daughter I had to choose her. For she matters more to me than anyone in any other family."
"My daughter was a Delvering" Delfo said. "That's the issue, isn't it? You would never have done what you did had my daughter's last name been Brandybuck!"
"I would have done the exact same thing no matter what your daughter's last name!" Merry defended himself. "My own daughter came first. Could you have left Fern to die in favour of Lúthien? Could you? If not, don't be so quick as to pass out judgment."
"But you're not just any Hobbit" Delfo said. "You're the Master of Buckland. Your family cannot always come first with you."
"You're wrong" Merry said. "I am not the Master of Buckland. As of yesterday I am officially removed of all authority and deprived of all my titles. I am just like you, a father who would do anything for his baby girl."
The door opened and one of the medics stuck his head in.
"Pardon me Master…"
"How did you know I was in here?" Merry sighed and wondered if he would ever get to go back to Brandy Hall.
"I'm sorry. But they just brought Fredegar Bolger in."
Merry flew to his feet.
"Fatty! Where on earth has that sluggard been? Does he have the athelas? Is he all right? What has he said about Lucimac?"
"He has the Fever" the medic said. "I'm so sorry Master…"
"Put him in my old room" Merry commanded. "Hurry! How bad is he?"
"… Bad."
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Merry placed a wet cloth over Fatty's forehead and began preparing some athelas. Legolas had sent a lot, it would hopefully be enough to last for Merry to dry later. Right now however the most important thing was to tend to Fatty.
After Legolas had rode off with Lucky Fatty had gone to the Prancing Pony, afraid of riding back to the Shire in the dark. Once he was there he had been reluctant to leave the nice inn with the tasty ale, warm fireplace and from what he could tell, no illness. Little had he known that the Hobbit who had used his room before him had fallen ill to the Fever and even though they had been washed the sheets still held the disease. Once Fatty learned of the other Hobbit's fate he realised he would get ill as well and rode back to Buckland as fast as he could. He had fainted and fallen off his pony as he passed through the Main Gate and had been brought to Crickhollow.
Now he was under Merry's care. Merry didn't ask him why he had taken so long and he wasn't particularly interested of knowing. It would have made no difference had he arrived a day earlier, Merry would still have snuck out and Fern Delvering would still have died. Whatever wrongs Fatty had done in delaying he was now paying for it.
Merry knew there were others in need of care as well but he chose to take his time with preparing the athelas for Fatty. It gave him a little room to breathe and it gave him someone to focus on. Fatty was weak and seemed to have the Fever worse than the others. Either it was since he had been exposed to it for a long time or the Fever in Bree had gotten worse. Merry found it very unsettling, he worried about his brother-in-law.
He rose from his chair and walked up to the window. He had had so many good times in this room. This was where he and Estella had spent their first years as husband and wife, two of his children had been conceived here and a third born. No ill Hobbits had been placed in the nurseries or his, Pippin's, Sam's or Frodo's old bedrooms. Crickhollow had other bedrooms that could be used and placing more than one Hobbit in the same room had been good to help economise what little kingsfoil they had had. But Merry felt it was only right to put Fatty in his old bed.
He felt like there was no end to this night, a feeling he had had far too often in the past years. Too many Hobbits had died already and Fatty might be the next one. He should never have sent him to Bree with Lucky, he should have sent one of the shriffs. Lucky was safe but Fatty was fighting for his life.
"Fredegar…" Merry mumbled. "You saved Lucky's life. But has it cost you yours?"
"No…" Fatty whispered from his bed.
Merry turned his head in surprise. He hurried up to Fatty and shushed him.
"You need all your strength, do not talk."
"Merry…" Fatty moaned, barely able to talk. "My… fault…"
"Shush" Merry said.
"I… stayed… didn't… return… my… fault…"
"You always were a big fool" Merry said. "But there's nothing you can do to change that. Save your strength. I do not want to lose you too."
"Nobody's… sick… right?"
Merry lowered his head and sighed.
"Lúthien caught the Fever."
"No" Fatty whimpered. "Not Lúthien…"
Lúthien had always been the one of the children who was dearest to his heart. When Merry had been in Rohan when Lúthien was little Fatty had filled in as her father and come to love her like a daughter. For a moment Merry wished he hadn't said anything. Fatty needed to stay focused and keep his hope and strength.
"You will fight this" Merry said. "Do you hear me?"
"I… can't…"
"Oh yes you can" Merry said. "Others have survived, so shall you."
Fatty shook his head.
"No…"
"Yes" Merry said. "You'll feel much better once the athelas begins to work."
Fatty shook his head slowly and drifted back off to sleep. Merry began using the athelas and after a few minutes Fatty opened his eyes again. He looked at Merry with determination in his eyes.
"My sister…" he said.
"She is not here" Merry said. "She cannot come. She is isolated at Brandy Hall, nobody dares to go near her. She sat with Lúthien."
"Tell her… goodbye then…"
"You shush" Merry said. "And Fredegar… Thank you!"
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For more days than anyone could bother counting the Shire stayed under the threat of the Fever. Finally nobody else seemed to be falling ill and after a week of no new illnesses Mayor Samwise declared that the emergency was over and people were to go back to their normal lives. But things were not normal. Forty-three Hobbits had died, leaving thirty-five families in grief of a deceased family member. Nearly a hundred had been saved after falling ill but that did not seem to matter to anyone. Their thoughts were with those who had died, not those who had lived.
When the quarantine at Crickhollow was finally lifted Merry gathered his things in a rucksack and began walking back to Brandy Hall. He could have had a pony sent to him but he preferred getting to stretch his legs and breathe the free air. He had barely seen the sun in days and the sound of birds twittering warmed his heart. It was June now, and they were all free. Nobody had to fear falling ill and nobody had to face the death of a loved one.
Merry had a new challenge ahead of him now. He had been relieved of his command, authority and title during the night he had broken into Brandy Hall and now Buckland stood without a Master. The question was, who was to take over? Théodoc was only eighteen and too young yet, if it could be avoided Merry would rather see someone else as Master until Théo reached 33. The next of kin was Merry's cousin Berilac, whose father had been the younger brother of Master Saradoc. Berilac had filled in as Master in the past and when Merry had been presumed dead during the War he had been prepared to one day take over the Mastership in his dead cousin's place.
A great meeting would be held at Michael Delving in two days, where it would fall upon the people to accept or decline Berilac as the guardian of Théodoc's title. It was up to the Mayor and Thain to make it formal but tradition called for the people saying what they felt. Merry knew he had to attend and oddly enough he looked forward to it. If this was the price he had to pay for getting to his daughter then he would pay it.
He turned his head and looked back at Crickhollow. He wished he never had to set foot there again. So many deaths had occurred there, so many broken hearts and feverish nightmares. It was unreal that the house had once been the home of two couples with their whole lives ahead of them and with growing families. All the love that had once filled Crickhollow had vanished during the days of the Fever.
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Clad in his Gondorian armour and with his Elf cape flung over his shoulders Pippin strode back and forth while occasionally gesturing with his sword. The members of the shriffs sitting by the table listened without saying a word. Peregrin was their Captain and highest command and when he talked they listened.
Pippin was giving them a long speech about the duties of the shriffs and how even though they had done their job well during the Fever they had failed miserably during the night Merry had come to Brandy Hall. Merry was their Captain also and they had failed to follow his order. Pippin went on and on about how it was a disgrace and how he must have failed in training them. Since he had become Thain Pippin had made it his special project to turn the shriffs into figures more like the guards and soldiers in Gondor. They now wore special uniforms and had different ranks, and a different code to follow. Pippin claimed they had violated that code.
"With all due respect Thain…" the Hobbit who had held the spear on that night said. "Captain Merry needed to be removed of his command. He had lost his mind."
"No he hadn't" Pippin said and slammed his palms down on the table. "Let me tell you what losing your mind is. Losing your mind is not doing anything you can to get you your dying child, being willing to go to extreme measures to try and save that child's life! Losing your mind is giving up on that child and trying to burn yourself and your son alive!"
"Son?" one of the shriffs echoed.
"Or daughter!" Pippin said. "Merry had not lost his mind, you have not seen a parent lose his mind when facing the plausible death of their child. But I have. I did not see that with Meriadoc, he was not even close. May I remind you all that Buckland now stands without a Master after you relieving him off his authority? Today a new Master will be appointed yet the former is still more than fit to run his office. Have you all forgotten Sharkey?"
"The Shire was scoured decades ago" one youngster pointed out. "It is folly to believe that because Captain Merry saved us then he will still be fit to be Master now. Hobbits do not act out violently towards one another, Thain! Look at Bingo, look at the scar on his neck!"
"That was me" Pippin pointed out.
"Young Master Théo is ready" another Hobbit said. "He can take over. When Merry nearly died a few years ago he was made ready!"
"So a youngster who knows nothing yet of life and troubles shall be Master while his competent predecessor is wasted on managing crops and breeding ponies for the rest of his life? Théo is not yet ready, I see him every day, I know." Pippin began striding back and forth again. "This is one nice mess you have gotten us into. I'm ashamed of you all!"
The Hobbits sitting by the table hung their heads in shame as Pippin continued to talk. He noticed that they listened to him in a different way now than they had before. His manoeuvre with the blade had made them fear him a bit. He had not wanted to go to such lengths but now that he had he was going to make the most out of it. He would make sure they all respected his authority enough to from this moment on never directly disobey him again. He glanced at the clock on the wall. The meeting would have to end soon, it was almost time for the new Master to be appointed.
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Sam had not seen so many Hobbits in one place since the Scouring. The town square in Michel Delving was jam-packed with Hobbits who had come from all farthings of the Shire. Everybody seemed to wish to take part in this happening. Sam however wished he didn't have to. It was with a heavy heart that he prepared to officially announce that Meriadoc son of Saradoc no longer held the title Master of Buckland.
Merry was there with him, clad in his Rohirric armour and his cape. Sam had left his Elf cape at home, it didn't seem him fitting to wear it to such an occasion. He didn't understand at first why Merry had dressed up but his friend had explained it to him. If Théodoc was to take over Merry wanted to do it formally and honour his son.
Little Lúthien was in Merry's arms, more asleep than awake, her head resting on his shoulder and her arms hanging loosely around his neck. Her legs hung limp underneath her. She had survived just barely and for several days she had floated between life and death. Now she was extremely weak and could not stand up on her own, or barely sit. She was disoriented and had problems with language. Rarely she spoke, saying only a few words when she did, and she showed no interest in the things she had loved before she had fallen ill. Still she was improving. She was no longer unable to hold her head up and could sit on her own for a few minutes. Most of all she resembled a young child who had not yet learned to sit, walk and talk. But she could learn again.
"Are you ready for this?" Sam asked Merry and took a deep breath to brace himself.
"As ready as I'll ever be" Merry said. "Someone has to take Lúthie."
"Let me" Éowyn offered and lifted her sister into her own arms. Lúthien didn't protest, she seemed unaware of having been moved at all.
"Here we go then" Sam said and took another deep breath.
He hurried up on the small stage in the corner of the Town Square and immediately everyone silenced. Deciding that it was best to get it over with as soon as possible Sam began to address the reason they had all joined.
"As you probably know…" he began. "Circumstances that arose during the time in which the Fever was among us has led to a change."
Théodoc sat down on a large rock and hid his face in his hands as Sam continued to speak. He was near panic, he was anything but ready to become the new Master. He glanced over at his father's cousin Berilac and hoped he would be appointed his guardian during the upcoming years, prolonging it a bit. He couldn't believe how quickly things had been turned on their head, his father was alive and well and should by all rights still be the Master. Théo felt ready to faint.
Merry slowly stepped up on the stage and stood behind Sam as his friend continued to recap what had happened and explain the consequences. Nothing was said of how things had been at Crickhollow or the things Merry had accomplished as Master in the past. None of that was relevant. He had been relieved of his command under claims of being mentally unfit and whatever his past actions were they were irrelevant.
Sam was just about to address the different options they had now as to who would be the new Master when the gathered shriffs interrupted him. They had just left the tavern room where they had held their meeting and since people parted for them when they needed to get through they had made their way up to the stage. Pippin was not with them. The shriffs fell down on one knee and the spear holder spoke.
"Mayor Samwise, the shriffs have something to say."
"By all means" Sam said.
"We wish to offer our support for Captain Meriadoc."
"But you were the ones who relieve him off command" Sam said.
"Perhaps" the spear holder said. "Mayor Samwise we have held meeting since daybreak, discussions have gone back and forth, now we have reached an agreement. The shriffs will support Captain Meriadoc and ask him to forgive us for taking his titles away from him."
Sam gave Merry a bewildered look and Merry responded by raising his eyebrows. He had no better clue than Sam as to what was going on. But what difference did it make now?
"I thank you, second lieutenant of the shriffs" he said in response. "What you can do for me is to give that support to my son if he is to succeed me."
Far back in the crowd, right outside the tavern, Pippin stood casually leaned against a barrel. The shriffs were on their side now, but it had taken a lot of effort and discussion. They could not give Merry his Mastership back but it was important to Pippin that they supported him. Around him people started to talk amongst themselves when nothing further was said up on stage. Whispers went back and forth at the new development, which would not lead to any changes anyway. Pippin felt they were wasting their breaths but it was up to Sam to quiet the crowd.
Then everyone quieted on their own as Aramac got up on the stage with Lúthien in his arms. He looked quite small compared to his father and seemed a bit uncertain of how to handle the attention he was suddenly given, but the sixteen-year-old had gotten up there for a reason.
"This is my sister" he said and lifted Lúthien up a bit. "She is weak. But she is alive. One of the reasons stated as to why my father must be relieved of his office and command is that he took off to Brandy Hall with the last of the Healing Herbs and left a ten-year-old lass to die. My sister is ten. Two lives were at stake that night, my sisters and Fern Delvering's. All of you here think my father should no longer be Master because he chose to save my sister." He lifted Lúthien up slightly again. "This is the lass you all think should be dead. Full of life she is, when she is not ill like this. She loves to run through the fields, she loves to play with the farm animals, she loves to help her mother out with household chores. She loves stories and songs. She loves life. But you all wish she were dead now instead of Fern Delvering. I just wanted you all to know who my sister is before you pass out such judgement. Never let it be said that my father is unfit for having saved his daughter's life, if you cannot care for those closest to you then you will never be able to care for an entire town. My sister is alive still… I just wanted you to see her. Those of you who did not know Fern Delvering, what is it about my sister that makes you wish she were the dead one?"
Nobody said anything and Aramac glanced nervously at his father and uncle Sam. Neither of them could believe what Aramac had just said and done but they did not hold it against him. Everybody seemed to have forgotten that Fern's life was sacrificed for another to live, now Aramac had reminded them of that.
Lúthien lifted her head slightly and looked at Merry.
"Da…" she said.
Merry gently lifted her over to his own arms and then looked at Sam.
"Get this over with" he commanded.
"A new Master has to be appointed" Sam said with sadness. "That is why we have all gathered here today. We…" He shook his head and then looked over at Théodoc who seemed ready to be sick. He was not yet ready and everyone close to him knew it. "As tradition calls for, the title and all its responsibilities and authorities shall pass to the firstborn son."
"Are you ready to be Master?" a voice from the crowd asked Aramac.
"I'm not the firstborn son" Aramac replied. "I have an older brother."
"Well where is he?"
"Mayor Samwise!" a lass in the crowd said. "Young Master Brandybuck is still a teenager. Master Berilac, who had held office in Master Merry's absence, did not manage as well as the real Master. I remember the Scouring very well, Mayor Samwise. I remember what you all did for us. Looking at Master Merry's daughter I feel ashamed. We have taken his authority and birthright from him as punishment for looking after his own. The shriffs have declared they are on his side, the rest of us should be too."
"The Mayor is on his side too" Sam said.
"We ought to give Master Merry another chance" the lass said. "I say we give him back the Mastership of Buckland. There is no better solution."
"Here, here!" someone cried through the wild discussions that broke out in the crowd.
"Silence!" Sam demanded and got it. "I support that suggestion. The Thain, wherever he is, has declared his support as well through the shriffs. Those of you who see no reason why Meriadoc son of Saradoc cannot be given his titles back, raise your hand in the air."
A number of hands went into the air but it was clear that most hands remained down. Sam nodded.
"Very well then. As it is really my authority and the Thain's which makes the decision in this matter Thain Peregrin and I hereby declare it official. Meriadoc, you are Master of the Hall again. Théodoc will remain your heir until the day comes when old age, some unfortune or any strong enough reason arises that will make him Master in your place. I hereby declare this meeting over."
Ignoring the loud cries of all kinds coming from the crowd Sam walked off the stage with Merry and Aramac in tow. One of the shriffs came up and lifted Lúthien from Merry's arms, pushing him into the group of shriffs waiting for him. Merry walked in the middle of them through the crowds, shielded from both friendly and unfriendly comments from the people, until they reached the tavern. The shriffs dispersed and bowed to Merry whose eyes met Pippin's. Pippin had remained by his barrel during the meeting and was the one who had cried out 'here, here'. Sam had heard him and accepted it as his official consent.
Pippin grinned at his cousin, relieved that everything had worked out. The trial was over. The two cousins looked at each other, one grinning, the other serious. The Thain and the re-appointed Master. "I have you to thank" Merry said. "I didn't handle the situation with Lúthien very well that night, did I?"
"You were magnificent" Pippin grinned.
Merry didn't answer. Everyone around them was observing them right now to see what would happen next. They expected an answer from Merry but didn't get one. He had nothing else to say. Merry bowed deeply to Pippin.
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Thank you for reading! The Fever is a fictional disease, though based on actual ones. See you all next week, please leave a review!