The trials of life's mysteries
He looked so fragile, so small, swamped as he was in about half a dozen blankets. Merry ran his fingers through the damp curls, before getting up from the chair next to his friend's bed that had barely been empty for the past few days, save for the few hours spent sleeping, eating or updating concerned friends and family.
He took one last look over at the silent form of his dearest friend, sighed gently, and went in to the adjoining room. He was loathe to leave Pip even for a second in his current condition, worried that he may wake up scared and alone, in need of comfort, but he reasoned, what good could he be to his friend if he did indeed wake up, being in a state of complete and utter exhaustion. He left the heavy oak door open, so that he would be able to hear any change in the little hobbit, still so pale and silent as he had been since he was cleaned up.
He laid down on the bed, not bothering to change in to his night clothes, and was soon asleep. But sleep held no comfort for him, plagued as he was by visions of his friend, pale ashen skin in stark contrast with the bright red blood oozing from a deep gash across his forehead and arms, his clothes ripped and dirty.
Merry frantically tossed and turned, as though trying to rid himself of the nightmare. He got caught up in his blankets, and fell to the floor with a bump.
Dazed and confused, he leant against the side of his bed, trying to clear the fog of sleep from his mind. A short, choked cry from the room next door startled him from his reverie. He raced towards the bed in the adjoining room, almost tripping over his tangled bedsheets in his haste to reach his friend. Slightly out of breath, he sat down once again in the chair, reached out and clasped his friend's hand in his own.
"I'm here now Pip, you're safe. Rest easy now."
He reached behind him to the cloth and basin he had left at his friend's bedside, dipped the cloth in cold water , and began to mop his fevered brow, all the while whispering reassurances to Pip, as well as to himself. It was the same routine he had gone through, over and over, since he found Pip on the borders of Buckland five days ago, the younger hobbit having gone to visit his family at the Took Smials. Freezing cold and delirious, covered in bruises and bleeding from the gashes on his forehead and arms, his friend stumbled towards him and collapsed on the ground in front of him, shaking. Merry, after quickly getting over the shock of seeing Pip in such a state, hastily covered his friend in his cloak and bundled him gently up in to his arms, before racing back towards the home he and Pip shared, Crickhollow
He was scared, scared for Pip and for himself. What had happened to him? What would he do if he lost him?
There was no way of finding out the events leading to this point, he could decipher no clues from his friend's delirious ramblings. He reached the halls, legs aching, breathing rapid, and deposited his friend on to the bed in the nearest guest room. He was no healer, and even if he was, he didn't think he had it in him to keep it together enough to treat someone as precious to him as Pip was. It left him with no other choice but to leave Pip and seek help from one of the other isolated houses built on the land. He offered a quick prayer to whatever higher being had taken control of Pip's fate, looked back once again at his friend, and left.
Sometime later, he made his way back through the pouring rain, bringing with him a hobbit by the name of Rugigar Bolger. Bolger didn't seem particularly confident about his medical skills, blustering and complaining that perhaps they didn't have the right equipment or knowledge to deal with this themselves, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and Merry needed to get back to Pip now, to fix things, to make sure everything would be okay. He fetched some of the herbs and medicines stored away for emergencies like this, as well as needle and thread, and hurriedly led Rugigar to the room in which Pip was currently laid, curled up in a foetal position, sniffling softly. He waited outside as Rugigar dealt with his friend, cleaning and stitching the gashes, and administering a mixture of hot water infused with herbs to make him sleep.
After he was done, Merry thanked him and led him to the door, before returning to his friend to resume a vigil at his bedside.
As soon as he had drank the herb infusion, Pip had gone quiet and still, and had remained that way ever since. What had happened to him before his appearance at Buckland was, as yet, a mystery.
TBC
A/N: I have not read the books, nor will I pretend to have done, but I wanted to do a story with Merry and Pip away from the war of the ring. I chose to include as few characters as possible, because I wanted the focus to be purely on Merry and Pip. I hope this explains the absense of Merry's family from their home. Sorry if you don't feel this is a good idea. The name of Rugigar was plucked from the Appendices at the end of LOTR; I am not sure how skilled he is as a healer, but as he only has a minor role in the story I hope you can forgive this oversight.
Anyway, whether you hate it or love it, please leave me some feedback so I know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong.
Until next time...
Smileyhalo