Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: A Time to Hope (#3616)
Author: PipMer
Chapters: 6

Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: AU in that it is a mixture of movie and book verse. Merry watches over his friends as they struggle to survive. In progress.
Published: 17 Oct 2007
Updated: 17 Oct 2007
Warnings: 
Type: Angst
Characters: Merry; Pippin; Aragorn; Gandalf; Elladan; Elrohir;


Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Merry walked in a smoke-filled haze. Sometime during the fighting, he had lost track of Pippin. He had meant to stay by his side till the end, but there had been so many of the enemy that they had quickly become separated. Merry had lost track of the number of times his sword had swung to connect with the body of an orc. It seemed like he had staggered around for hours, barely registering his surroundings through a haze of blood and sweat. He was pretty sure some of the blood was his, although he wasn't aware of any pain stemming from a wound. 

The last time he had been aware of Pippin was when he had heard his cousin shout, "The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" He had tried to make his way toward that voice, but had quickly gotten caught up again in the fighting. He had lost count of how many orcs he had downed when the eruption had caused all fighting to cease. Barad-dur had come crashing down, and the enemy had turned and fled like the cowards they were. 

At that instant, Merry knew two things; that Frodo had accomplished his task, and that he and Sam had died in the fulfillment of that task. Joy and grief both tore at him at the same time, threatening to undo him. 

But the worst part of all was watching Gimli walk towards Aragorn bearing the broken body of his dearest friend and cousin. Tears were streaming down Gimli's cheeks, and Merry knew that he would be returning to the Shire alone. 

------------------------------------- 

At first, Merry didn't believe Gimli when he told him that Pippin was clinging to life. He couldn't believe in Pippin's survival, because to harbor hope meant to risk unbearable grief. Better to bury the dead sooner rather than later. Merry couldn't allow himself to feel relief, only to feel the sharp pang of loss when Pippin finally succumbed to his injuries. For succumb he surely would; no on could long survive the injuries that he had sustained. To be stabbed once in the left shoulder and shot with an arrow between the shoulder blades was bad enough; then to have a troll fall on you, crushing your ribs....who could live through all that? Certainly not a small halfling, no matter how tenaciously he fought to survive. 

Then he got word that Frodo and Sam had arrived safely with the eagles and Gandalf. Scarred and hurt, but alive. Again, Merry buried the feeling of hope that flared within him. Sam and Frodo were both so badly injured that Aragorn had put them into a healing sleep that was to last for at least a fortnight. It took Aragorn and his foster brothers four hours to tend to the newly-arrived, unconscious hobbits. It took that long to force them to vomit up the ash that clogged up their lungs, clean and dress their wounds, bathe them, and ease water and broth down their throats. Frodo's finger stub had to be cleaned and bound immediately before infection set in. It was exhausting work. 

Afterwards, Aragorn set two bowls of athelas-infused water in their tent, and laid hands on them as he chanted words in Elvish that put them into a deep, dreamless, healing sleep. This sleep slowed their metabolism so that they would only require water and broth twice a day without them wasting away. Merry wasn't allowed to see them for two days, partly to prepare him for the shock of the extent of their injuries and their change in appearance from plump, healthy hobbits to gaunt, sickly ones. 

After five days of watching Aragorn tend to his three kinsmen, and keeping almost constant vigil over Pippin, Merry was overwhelmed with despair. There had been no change with any of the injured hobbits. Yes, they were all alive, but no movement had as yet been detected. They all just lay there, silent and still. Merry didn't know what would be worse; to have had them all die from the beginning, or to watch them all as they lay dying. Sobbing, Merry clutched Pippin's hand and let the tears stream down his cheeks. 

Gandalf walked in just as Merry was hitching back a sob. Merry locked eyes with Gandalf, and Gandalf was shocked to see the dead look within Merry's blue ones. He had given up hope, and the anguish was eating him up inside. Gandalf strode over to the young hobbit, fell to his knees and gathered him up in his arms, holding him while Merry cried out all the tears that were left in him. Stroking his hair, Gandalf rocked back and forth while he tried to comfort the brave young Brandybuck. There were no words to be said, really. Only time would tell if these little ones would fight hard enough to come back to their kinsman. 

TBC....


Chapter 2 - Chapter 2

On the sixth day, Pippin's hand twitched very slightly, and Merry became very excited. He called for Strider immediately to come and tend to his cousin. Aragorn calmly strode into the tent and walked over to take Pippin's hand. He put his other hand on Pippin's forehead, closed his eyes, and recited some more Elvish. Merry was growing very weary of this; he didn't understand what good it did to speak in a different language when his cousin needed medical attention. The minutes dragged on, until finally Merry lost patience. 

"Strider, what are you doing? Is he waking up, or isn't he? Does he need medicine? What is it that he needs?" 

"What he needs is for you to trust me to know what I'm doing, Merry," Aragorn replied calmly. "Can you do that? Remember, I've been trained by the best healer in Middle Earth." 

Merry sighed, shuffling his feet. "I'll try, Strider. I'm sorry, I'm just going crazy with all of the waiting. Why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been six days." 

"Yes, and it may well be a few more, Merry, before he wakes up. I'm sorry, but his body needs rest to heal itself, that's why he still remains unconscious. Everything that can be done for his injuries is being done, Merry; his ribs are in the process of healing, the wounds in his shoulder and back are coming along nicely with no infections. He's been very lucky so far. Let's hope that luck continues." 

Merry muttered something under his breath. Aragorn ignore it, knowing how concerned the hobbit was for his young cousin and friend. 

"I’m finished here, Merry. Why don't we go sit outside, smoke a pipe?" 

The two did just that. There were benches set up at the entrances to the healing tents, and Man and Hobbit sat on one of them, pipes in hand. Aragorn set to describing what Merry could expect within the next few days. 

"I suspect Pippin will wake soon. I'm sure he will awaken before Frodo and Sam. When he does, you must not expect too much, Merry. He will be very weak; he probably won't even be able to feed himself or make his way to the privy. You also must be prepared for a slow recovery. He will most likely be in a great deal of pain for awhile, so I will have to keep him sedated with draughts for the first few days. I would appreciate it if you'd be willing to help him walk around the tent after the third day for exercise at least once a day, for about 15 minutes. I assume you'll be more than willing to help out whenever he needs it?" 

Merry gave Aragorn a look. "Of course Strider, I’ll be there for as long as Pippin needs me." 

Aragorn smiled sadly. "Of course you will, I needn't have asked. Please forgive me." 

"It’s all right. You must be exhausted, Strider; when did you last sleep?" 

"Oh, don't worry about me; there's enough Elvish blood in me that I can do without rest for great lengths of time." 

"But you are also a Man, and therefore mortal. Which means you need sleep sooner or later, and from the looks of you, it should be sooner." 

Aragorn was amused. "Well, thank you kindly for your concern, Merry. Maybe I will get a little sleep after I've finished my pipe. As a matter of fact, I would welcome some rest. It has been rather gruelling work, albeit rewarding, especially when your charges start making progress, however small. And never doubt, Pippin IS making progress." 

"How can you tell?" 

"Well, for one thing, his slight movement today. I find that very heartening. Also, I've noticed how his breathing has eased over the past few days. Actually, I think having you by his side has hastened his recovery. He's aware that you're here, I'm sure of it. I've almost convinced myself that I've seen slight responses to your voice in his breathing pattern, although that could just be my over-active imagination. Don't give up hope, Merry. It seems that perhaps your cousin may make a full recovery, although his bones will probably always ache whenever the weather changes. That is a small price to pay in order to come back from the abyss like this." 

Aragorn took his leave of Merry to go get some rest. Thoughtful, Merry walked back into the tent, sat in the chair at Pippin's side, and took his hand. After thinking that he had lost Pippin for good, having some hope to hang onto felt good. Although Merry hated to expect too much, in case the worst still happened. It was a fine line he was walking, between hope and despair. Well, maybe not despair, but acceptance. How did one know when to accept, and when to hope? Sighing, Merry leaned back and closed his eyes. Within moments he was sound asleep.


Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Merry startled himself awake. His glance swiftly landed on Pippin; there was no movement, and not the whisper of a sound. What, then, had awakened him? 

Shaking his head groggily, Merry stumbled to the wash basin, wet the available towel and wiped his face. He looked at his hands, and was surprised to see them trembling. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to remember if he had been dreaming. 

Then he remembered. He had been having that dream again. The one where he watches in horror as an orc runs Pippin through with a sword. Running towards his cousin, Merry is screaming at the top of his lungs. When he finally reaches Pippin, he turns him over, and is met with green, lifeless eyes staring back at him. Choking back a sob, Merry puts two fingers on Pippin's neck, jand feels nothing; not even the faintest flutter of a heartbeat. Merry tenderly cradles Pippin's body in his arms as he slumps to the ground. He starts to keen as he rocks back and forth, stroking Pippin's face and willing him to just breathe, damn it, breathe and wake up, wake up, Pippin, WAKE UP.… 

Merry forced his thoughts from the dream to the present. He took another deep breath, and started walking back to where Pippin lay sleeping. Tears were falling unheeded down his cheeks as he took Pippin's hand and brought it to his lips. He sat down, leaned over and smoothed Pippin's hair back from his brow. 

"Oh, Pippin," Merry murmured. "You were ever so brave, and I'm so very proud of you. It's time to come back to me now. Sam and Frodo still sleep, and will for some time yet, but you have to wake up. You need to keep your Merry from going crazy here. No one else will laugh at my jokes the way you do, Pippin. No one else has the patience. Strider says that you're healing nicely, and that when you wake up I'm to help you with your exercises. I never thought I'd say this, but I could do with some endless Tookish chatter about now." Merry stroked Pippin's cheek with his fingertips. "I swear I'll never tell you to be quiet again, if only I could hear your sweet voice." 

Almost imperceptibly, Merry felt a slight pressure on the hand holding Pippin's. Heartened, Merry searched Pippin's face for signs of life. Ever so slowly, Pippin's eyelids fluttered open, and Merry was looking into two emerald green eyes. Softer than a breath, Pippin whispered, "Merry?" 

Joy flooded Merry's heart, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud through his tears. "Yes, dearest, I'm here. Welcome back." 

----------------------------------------------------- 

The next day, Merry rejoiced all day long. Nothing could quell his spirits, not even being banned from Pippin's tent until Aragorn finished tending to him and giving the healer his instructions. He was in and out of Frodo and Sam's tent, staying just long enough to give the unconscious hobbits updates on Pippin's condition. When Merry finally was allowed back in to see Pippin, he was given strict instructions to not over-excite his injured cousin. "He desperately needs rest, Merry, "Aragorn said sternly. "I don't want him up and about until tomorrow, when you can help him walk around the inside of his tent. I don't want to exert him unduly and undo all the healing he has done so far. Do you understand?" 

Merry made an effort to sublimate his excitement. He felt such overwhelming relief, and gratitude, that Pippin was awake and recovering. "I understand, Strider. I promise I won't do anything to hinder Pippin's recovery. I just want to talk to him, be by his side for awhile." 

Aragorn smiled. "Of course. I'm having some porridge brought to Pippin in a bit, that's all I think he can handle at the moment. I'd like for you to assist him as needed. Can I count on you?" 

Merry grinned. "Of course you can! I've already eaten through to luncheon, so I'll concentrate on Pip and make sure he gets some solid food in him. How much should he eat?" 

"Only as much as he can handle. Don't force a certain amount into him; it's way too early to be doing that. I want to see if he keeps this down, and then I'll move him on to more substantial fare. He kept the broth down up until now with no difficulties, but I’m not sure how his stomach will react to more solid food at this point. I have a healer assigned to him who will be in and out, and who will bring him his food. Make sure you don't interfere with whatever he needs to do." 

Aragorn hating talking to Merry as if he were a child, but he knew what newly kindled hope could do to a person; it could make them lose their head unless they kept their wits about them. These creatures were so innocent, and Aragorn hated that they had been subjected to the horrors that they had been through. He wasn't sure how realistic Merry's expectation was as to the rate of Pippin's recovery, and he wanted to make sure he understood that it would be a slow, painstaking process. The two younger hobbits had never shown much proof that they could be patient, although Merry had been VERY patient up to this point; although if Pippin had stayed asleep for much longer, Aragorn had a feeling that the older hobbit would have been very difficult to be around. 

"I understand, Strider, truly I do. I won't overexcite Pippin, I won't force him to eat anymore than he wants, and I won't get in the healer's way. Anything else?" 

Aragorn smiled. "No, I think that about does it. I'll come around about dinner time to check on him again; meanwhile, I'll leave him to your tender mercies." 

Merry grinned. "Thanks, Strider," and he turned and walked into Pippin's tent to await the arrival of the porridge.


Chapter 4 - Chapter 4

Pippin didn't like the fact that he barely had enough energy to sit up, let alone hold a spoon to feed himself. He tried to be self-deprecating to lighten the mood as Merry patiently and tenderly fed him his porridge. Merry could tell that Pippin was embarrassed by how helpless he was, so he made every effort to be as understanding as possible. It was easy to do, considering how relieved and grateful Merry felt at having Pippin awake, alert, and eager for conversation. 

"Merry, tell me about Frodo and Sam. Have you seen them? When are they supposed to wake up? Hs the Ring truly been destroyed?" 

Merry laughed gleefully. "Yes, in a few days, and yes. My, you're certainly making up for not talking for six days, aren't you? Not that I'm complaining," he added hastily. "Now I know how you felt as you waited for Strider to come and wake me up in Minas Tirith. Now all we have to do is wait for Frodo and Sam to wake up. When they were first brought here, Strider said they would probably remain asleep for a fortnight. So they'll probably wake up in another week or so. They won't believe their eyes, Pip! We've grown at least three inches since we saw them last! And you're now a guard of the citadel. Frodo will be so proud! Just as I am; I am so very proud of you, Pip." Merry blinked back tears. 

Pippin reached out and clasped Merry's arm. "I'm proud of you, too, Mer. You've been ever so brave, stabbing the Witch-King, and then defeating the Shadow in order to come back to us. And it takes a special kind of bravery to set watch over your loved ones as they struggle to survive their injuries. Now that I'm awake, I can keep watch with you, over Frodo and Sam. As soon as I can get out of this confounded bed, I'll go with you to hold vigil." 

"Don't be in too much of a rush; you need much rest as you can get, to save your strength, if you're going to be able to test your legs tomorrow as Strider expects. Although I don't see how he can expect that; you're still as weak as a babe, to my eyes. Are you done with this porridge, Pip?" 

"Yes, I'm done, Merry. And I am actually feeling a lot stronger than I did when you first came in after Strider was done with me. I think that bit of food has helped tremendously." Pippin shifted as he attempted to sit up. Merry, ever solicitous, sucked in his breath as he rushed to Pippin's side. 

"Careful, cousin!" 

Pippin pushed himself upward with his fists dug into his mattress until he wasn't touching his pillows. "I'm alright, Merry, it doesn't hurt at all. And look, I can sit up without support!" 

"Just take it easy Pip", Merry worried, concern lacing his words. His brow was creased with worry as he supported his cousin with an arm around his shoulder. "You can't expect to be up and walking the same day you wake up from an extended sleep."


Pippin smiled indulgently, realizing what Merry had been through while glued to his bedside. "Yes, Mum, thanks for reminding me. I wouldn't remember on my own how exhausted I feel, even after six days sleep, since my body has surpassed its stored energy by healing my injured bits. Just because I feel like I could sleep for another week doesn't mean that I have a lot of healing yet to do, I'm sure." 

Merry laughed. It was just so good to see Pippin joking around, smiling, laughing. And it had been so close....Merry blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over. It hadn't come to that, so it was no good dwelling on the might-have-beens. Pippin was alive and healing, and so were Frodo and Sam; that was all that mattered. 

All of a sudden, Pippin's face became as white as a sheet; he clutched his abdomen, murmuring, "Hurts", and swooned into Merry's embrace, becoming unconcious once again. 

Terrified, Merry clutched Pippin's body tightly. Panic-stricken, he shouted loudly, "Strider! Somebody, get Strider, quickly. Help! HELP!!"


Chapter 5 - Chapter 5

The atmosphere was hushed inside the tent shared by Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf. The three alert occupants talked in subdued tones so as not to awaken the hobbit sleeping within. Merry was completely and utterly exhausted, and needed as much sleep as he could get. 

"Is the young one going to be alright?" Gimli asked quietly. Pippin held a special place in his heart, ever since the Fellowship's escape from Moria. The youngster's grief and guilt over Gandalf's fall had been painful for Gimli to behold, accustomed as he had been to Pippin's unquenchable cheerfulness. He had done his utmost to raise the hobbit's spirits while they resided in Lorien, and he had succeeded, to a certain extent. The bond between the two had only strengthened on the journey from Lorien to Parth Galen. When Gimli had brought Pippin to Aragorn after finding him beneath the troll, he had been certain Pippin was dead; he had detected no signs of life within him. When Aragorn had brought him back from the brink of death, no one had been happier than Gimli, save Merry, of course. Now, to lose Pippin like this, when he had shown signs of recovery ... 

"Pippin is going to be fine," Gandalf replied. "He over-exerted himself by trying to sit up on his own, putting undue stress and pressure on his internal organs, which were already bruised from the troll's weight. Thank goodness he didn't injure himself anew." 

Gandalf had been the one to hear Merry's cries of dismay after Pippin had fainted in his arms. He had fetched Aragorn from his mid-day meal, and Aragorn had rushed into Pippin's tent fearing the worst. Pippin was already regaining consciousness when he arrived, much to his relief. 

Merry had been beside himself, and once again had gotten himself banned from Pippin's tent. Aragorn had remained by Pippin's side for over an hour, determining what had happened and calming the young hobbit as best he could. In addition to over-exerting himself, Pippin had eaten the food given to him by Merry too quickly, and his stomach had rebelled quite fiercely, causing very painful cramping. When Aragorn left, it was with strict instructions to Pippin and his healer that he was to move as little as possible, and only take sips of broth at dinnertime for sustenance. He had taken Merry aside, and apologized. 

"Merry, I'm so sorry that I didn't anticipate this happening. I should have known that he would try to take on more than he should; after all, this is Pippin we're talking about. I also should have foreseen that his stomach would react this way, and that he should have been warned to eat his food very slowly. This is my fault, and I beg your forgiveness, Merry." 

"Of course you have it, Strider. You can't possibly think of everything." 

"But I am a healer, and you hobbits are under my care and protection. I should have been more vigilant." 

"Nonsense. Pippin and I don't deserve treatment that's different from any other person injured in your service. Frodo and Sam, on the other hand - I don't argue that they warrant special treatment, and from what I can tell, they have been receiving it. Don't worry yourself, Strider. You have a whole camp-site full of injured men to attend to. I don't expect you to only worry over Pippin. Now, when can I see him?" 

"Oh, no you don't! I just gave Pippin a sleeping draught to help him rest. And you - you still haven't rested properly since the battle! I order you to get at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep; not much more than that, or you won't sleep tonight. Gandalf, take Merry to your tent and put him to bed. He is not to be disturbed until dinnertime." 

"Not until I've seen Frodo and Sam," Merry said stubbornly. 

"Merry! Do not make me order you, because I will if I have to; as a healer if not as your King. You may not be physically injured, but you ARE physically exhausted. It's well within a healer's right to order someone as weary as you to bed." 

"Let me just look in on them, Strider, please? Then I promise you I will go to bed." Aragorn looked at Merry skeptically. "I swear! There's not much good I can do anyway with all three of them sleeping, now, is there?" 

"Very well, Merry. Gandalf, please keep an eye on him and make sure he keeps his promise." 

"Consider it done, Aragorn," Gandalf said, and he steered the young hobbit toward Sam and Frodo's tent. "Now you're going to have to learn respect, Merry," Gandalf chastised as soon as they were out of earshot. "I know you are used to addressing Aragorn as Strider, and to talking to him as if he truly were only a scruffy Ranger from the North. But you're going to have to realize that he is to be your King, Merry; yes, even the hobbits will be under his rule. Although I think he'll pretty much leave well enough alone in the Shire, it would be good to remember that fact. Do you understand?" 

Merry sighed. "Yes, Gandalf. I keep forgetting that he truly is the King come back. No one ever thought it would happen, did they? You know that we have a saying in the Shire for something that will never happen...'When the King comes back.' 

Gandalf smiled. 'Yes, I have heard it in other areas as well, not just the Shire. " Gandalf stopped walking. "Well, here we are. Don't be too long, Merry, we need to get you into bed shortly." 

"But I'm not the least bit tired!" 

"Once you stop and take a breath, you will be. Now off with you; I'll be waiting right here." 

Merry nodded to the soldiers guarding the Ringbearers' tent as he entered. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Softly, he padded over to the two cots that were set side by side. He first went to Sam, and took his hand, smoothing the hair from his eyes. "Thank you, Sam, for looking out for my cousin. I owe you everything. Frodo couldn't have asked for a more faithful companion than you. I have a feeling that he never would have made it without you." Merry moved over to his elder cousin. Taking Frodo's good hand in his own, Merry tried to speak, but found that he couldn't for the lump in his throat. Various feelings waged within him while looking down at his cousin: fear, relief, joy, sorrow, gratitude...all were warring for predominance. Merry sat in the chair that was provided, and just looked at Frodo as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't know what to say, but he willed his thoughts to enter into Frodo's mind, so that Frodo could know how very proud Merry was of both him and Sam. No one else could have accomplished what they had, and although Merry didn't know what had transpired between Parth Galen and the eruption of Mount Doom, only one thing mattered; the Ring had been destroyed, and Middle Earth had been saved. 

After several minutes, he found that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Leaning his head back, he told himself he would just rest his eyes for a few minutes. Within five minutes, Merry was snoring softly. Gandalf poked his head in, and smiled at the sleeping hobbit. Tenderly, he gathered Merry up in his arms, and brought him to his tent, laying him down on the small cot that had been set up especially for him. Dreaming of Buckland, Merry smiled in his sleep, and curled onto his side for a good, long nap.


Chapter 6 - Chapter 6

Merry woke up as the sun first started coming over the eastern horizon. The decision had been made to let him sleep through the evening, on into the night. Clearly, he was exhausted; he didn’t move so much as a muscle from the time he lay down early in the afternoon until he awoke at sunrise the next morning. He felt very refreshed after his over-long sleep, and at first was unaware of the time until he stepped outside of the tent and looked around. Shocked that he could have slept so hard for such a long time, he inhaled deeply and let out a frosted breath. Gandalf and Gimli were both still sleeping soundly, and Legolas was up and about somewhere, as he always was at that hour of the day. 

Stretching and yawning, Merry clutched his cloak tighter around himself to keep off the early morning chill; even this far south the nights and early mornings could still see temperatures below freezing. Merry cocked his head, and realized that he heard no stirrings within the camp at all, not even from the healer’s pavilion. The night must have been an easy and restful one for the wounded. 

Merry strode between the healer’s pavilion and Pippin’s tent, knowing that Pippin would be sound asleep at this time of the day. He didn’t want to disturb his young cousin’s healing rest. Merry’s feet softly padded soundlessly through the camp until he came upon the banks of a small stream. He followed it as it meandered away from the camp, and found himself entering a small wooded area of oak trees that were just beginning to show their green buds. Merry hoped they wouldn’t be damaged by the frost. 

Now that he was awake, Merry’s restless mind started looking for things to think and worry about. Now that Pippin seemed to be doing alright, his thoughts immediately jumped to Frodo and Sam. Maybe he should look in on them as soon as he finished with his walk. Strider seemed to think that they would be asleep for a few more days yet. Merry didn’t understand it; how much sleep could two hobbits really need? Even if they had been grievously injured, to rest and heal was one thing; to lie there unconscious for any length of time was disconcerting, to say the least. He supposed that Strider knew what he was doing, but the worrier in Merry would not let the thought rest that Frodo and Sam should have awoken by now. 

As if his thoughts had taken shape, Merry noticed a Man coming towards him out of the early morning mist. It was Strider. Swallowing hard, and hoping that he couldn’t read his mind, Merry called out a greeting. 

"Merry! I’m surprised to see you out here. I thought you were still slumbering away; you were a very exhausted young hobbit, I must say. What brings you out into the chill and damp this morning?" 

"I woke up instantly refreshed, and I must say I’m not surprised, given the length of time that I was asleep. Why ever did you let me sleep so long, Strider? I thought you were going to wake me for supper." 

"Well, I was, but when I saw how deeply asleep you were, I just let you be. I think it was the best thing for you, to sleep so well and hard." 

"Perhaps so, but it can’t be good to do so 24 hours a day." He looked hard at Strider. "You know of whom I speak. Why must Frodo and Sam sleep for so long? I must say, it doesn’t seem natural." 

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Are you saying that I don’t know what I’m doing, Meriadoc?" The tone of his voice let Merry know that he was just jesting, but Merry wouldn’t be put off. 

"Of course not, Strider; I’m just voicing my concern, that’s all. After all, you aren’t around hobbits all the time, and perhaps don’t know all of their habits and strengths. Even a very sick hobbit won’t sleep that much." 

Aragorn grew sombre. He bent over and put both his hands on Merry’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. "You have to remember from whence they have come, Merry. Your darkest dreams cannot begin to imagine the horrors that they have been through. They were literally at the brink of death when Gandalf and the eagles rescued them. They had been without water and food for a very long time, and neither one of them had slept well for weeks. Frodo had been wounded by orc whips and spider bites, and he and Sam both had been breathing the foul, Mordor air." 

Merry looked at him without expression. "How can you know all of this?" 

Aragorn hesitated but an instant. "I have looked into their minds." 

Merry was horrified. He stepped back. "You what?" he asked incredulously. 

Aragorn sighed as he straightened up. "I don’t like to do it, Merry, but in order to heal, sometimes I have to. Lord Elrond did the same with Frodo as he was searching for the shard in Rivendell. He had to soothe Frodo’s mind in order to bring him back from the abyss. I did the same with you when I brought you back from the black shadow. I never delve very deeply, only on the surface. I had to know what I was dealing with in order to help heal them. You must know that I would never do anything to hurt them… to hurt any of you." 

"Any of us? Us being hobbits, I suppose?" Merry was quite angry. "I can’t speak for the others, but for me, I’m tired of being treated differently than Men, Elves, Dwarves … well, everybody else! We aren’t to be handled like we're delicate glassware, Strider! Do what you must, and if you can’t save us, you must let us go. Frodo and Sam don’t want to exist as mere shells of their former selves." Tears blurred Merry’s vision, but he didn’t stop. "If you can’t heal them without taking their humanity away, then let them go. You must; Pippin and I must, as well. You have to be honest with us, and let us know when their time has come." Finally, the emotion of the moment overwhelmed him; Merry covered his face with his hands, and sobbed freely, shoulders shaking with repressed sorrow. 

Aragorn gently put his arms around the shoulders of the weeping hobbit; Merry tensed slightly, but didn’t react any further. Aragorn knew that hobbits weren’t embarrassed to be seen crying by others as other races tended to be, so he just stood next to Merry, letting him know by his presence that he was available for support and conversation if that’s what Merry wanted. 

As the sobs gently receded, Aragorn smiled down at the small hobbit. "Now that Pippin is recovering, your mind must find something else to worry about, mustn't it? It's not surprising that it would turn to Frodo and Sam next." Aragorn's smile disappeared, and he tipped Merry's chin up to look into his eyes. "Merry, do not relinquish hope for your kinsman and friend. Despite what it looks like, they are healing nicely, both physically and mentally. They have wandered far, and I have called them back as much as I can; the rest is up to them. I do not sense hopelessness about them anymore; at first, neither one of them wanted to return. Their burden had been so heavy, all they wanted was to rest for as long as possible. This feeling was especially strong in Frodo. And what the master feels, the servant must also. But they have turned the corner. They both want to come back now, and convincing them was half the battle. Really, Merry; I'm telling you the truth." Aragorn's grey eyes searched Merry's blue ones pleadingly. 

Merry finally relented. He felt slightly guilty for chastising the future King of Gondor; he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Strider was to be King. He bowed his head. "I believe you, Strider. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. All the stress of waiting for them to wake up... it's finally caught up to me. I trust you implicitly; I never meant to imply otherwise." 

Aragorn smiled. "Apology accepted, my young friend. Sometimes I think the hardest part isn’t being one of the wounded, but being one of those who were lucky enough to escape unscathed. Watching our loved ones suffer is never an easy thing, is it?" 

Merry shook his head. "No, it’s not. But I trust you and the other healers; Frodo, Sam and Pippin are all going to be okay, thank the Valar. I don’t know what I would have done if I had been the only one left, Strider; there’s no way I would be able to return to the Shire alone." 

"Let’s not dwell on that, for you won’t have to return alone. Are you hungry, Merry? My stomach tells me that it’s about time for breakfast." 

Merry knew a distraction when he saw one; however, he wasn’t inclined to argue. "Starving, Strider. Do you suppose that Pip is awake yet?" 

"Probably not yet; it’s still early. Why don’t we check in on him first, just to make sure he’s sleeping restfully?" 

Sure enough, Pippin was sound asleep, snoring softly as healer and hobbit glanced inside his tent. Merry silently padded over to him and laid a kiss on his forehead, light as a feather. Pippin stirred slightly, and said very clearly, "No, Mother, I don’t know where Merry is; have you checked the larder?" Aragorn snickered softly, swiftly stepping away from the tent so as not to wake Pippin. 

Merry stepped out of the tent and grinned at Aragorn. "He must be dreaming of the time that I broke Aunt Eglantine’s pitcher with the pretty blue primroses; it had been her favourite, and she was quite angry. I hid in the larder, and the little rascal ratted me out! Of course, he was only ten at the time; I couldn’t really blame him. It wasn’t his fault that I was clumsy." 

Aragorn laughed. "I’m sure that he got into plenty of scrapes himself, knowing him. When he wakes up I shall get more stories from him about your childhood together; I’ll bet he could enlighten me on a lot of different things concerning hobbits." 

Merry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I’m sure. At any rate, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat." 

"Alright. I hope you don’t mind that we are joined by Elladan and Elrohir. They are the best healers in Middle Earth next to Elrond, and I usually get their opinions on my cases first thing in the morning. Is that agreeable to you?" 

"Most agreeable. Now onward, before I faint from hunger." 

"Honestly, Merry, you’d think that… oh dear, you did miss supper last night, didn’t you? You must be ravenous." 

"What I’ve been trying to say!" 

The two friends chatted on as they followed their noses towards the meal tent. The mouth-watering aromas of eggs, sausages, bacon, potatoes, and mushrooms assaulted their noses and made them even hungrier, if that were at all possible. They both piled their plates high with food, then made their way over to one of the tables that had been set up, joining the Elven brothers who were already half-way done with their breakfasts. 

"Greetings, Estel! Good morning, Meriadoc!" Elladan proclaimed. "How are you two this glorious morning?" 

"Wonderful!" Merry responded as he sat across from them. For the next few minutes, Merry was silent as he ate while Aragorn and the twins discussed the doings for the day. The brothers were acting as Aragorn’s assistants while he acted as healer to the many sick and wounded that were still recovering. There were other healers available to help as well, but the three of them personally tended to the most grievously wounded, as well as to the three perian. 

"Will Pippin be able to eat anything solid yet?" Merry asked around a mouthful of potatoes. 

"I think that we will keep him on liquids today yet," Aragorn replied. "He’s not going to be too happy about that, but it can’t be helped. He also should remain in bed as well, and not try to get up yet. I want to be on the safe side." 

"How much longer before Frodo and Sam are awake, do you think?" Merry asked anxiously. 

"Well, let’s see; they’ve been asleep for seven full days now; another week should do it. In six days I will start giving them tonics that will bring them to wakefulness." 

"That long?" Merry was clearly not too happy with the information. 

"Yes, that long. If we wake them before they are ready, that will be just as bad as if they hadn’t been asleep at all. The whole purpose of this sleep is for healing in both mind and body. Don’t grow impatient, Merry; it all serves a purpose." 

"Yes, of course," Merry mumbled, and went back to eating with a vengeance. 

Elrohir grinned at the hobbit as Merry continued to shovel food into his mouth. "Are you getting enough to eat, Merry?" he asked facetiously. 

"I will as soon as I return with my second helping," Merry replied as he got up and headed towards the food with his plate. Aragorn tipped his head back and roared with laughter. Occupants of adjacent tables looked up from their plates and looked in his direction, clearly baffled at what their leader could find to laugh about so early in the morning. 

"What’s this?" said a gruff voice. Aragorn looked up into the grey eyes of Gandalf. "What warrants such levity, my liege?" the wizard asked amusedly. "Could it be the eating habits of a certain young hobbit?" 

"’Tis such, Mithrandir," replied Elrohir good-naturedly. "It is a joy to watch one eat with such gusto and enthusiasm. It certainly has whetted my appetite. I believe I need another helping of mushrooms." Winking at his brother, Elrohir stood up and made his way over to the food. As Elrohir left, Merry returned with his plate piled higher than it was the first time. 

"Good heavens, Meriadoc, one would think that you’d save some for the rest of us," grumbled Gandalf. 

"Remember, Gandalf, I missed supper," explained Merry. "Also, since there’s no such thing as second breakfast or elevenses here, I have to eat enough to tide me over until lunch, yes?" 

Gandalf smiled. "But of course! I’d nearly forgotten how many meals you hobbits are used to having. Three meals a day doesn’t quite cut it, does it?" 

"Not nearly," Merry said under his breath, but Gandalf’s sharp ears caught it, and he heartily laughed. Hobbits were such delightful creatures! 

Aragorn and the twins started the day by making their morning rounds of the wounded. Gandalf kept Merry company as he started his first helping while Merry delved into his second. Merry was in high spirits after sleeping so much and being able to eat a huge breakfast. Before Pippin had regained consciousness, he had barely eaten a thing. He had had no appetite. Now, he was making up for lost time. 

"Slow down, lad," Gandalf admonished. "The food isn’t going anywhere; take time to savour and enjoy it, or you’ll end up with a stomach-ache. Aren’t the mushrooms succulent?" 

"Excellent mushrooms!" Merry agreed as he slowed his eating. "I’ve never seen these kind before; they don’t grow in the Shire. They’re very tasty." 

"Indeed." Gandalf smiled. Hobbits never ran out of things to talk about when discussing food. "Will Peregrin be able to eat anything today?" 

"Not yet; Strider says he can only take liquids yet today, and then maybe some food tomorrow. He also must remain in bed today as well. He’s going to go stir-crazy, if I know Pippin. Poor lad; I feel sorry for the healer assigned to him." 

"So do I; Pippin will talk his ear off." Gandalf replied. "Well, I’m finished. I have business to attend to, and I assume you’re off to see your cousin?" 

"Yes," Merry replied, "he should be awake by now." 

"Alright then." Gandalf stood up with his plate. "As soon as I’ve finished, I will join you and see what the young scamp has been up to from his bed." 

Merry grinned. "If anyone can get into mischief without even getting out of bed, it would be Pippin." 

"Right you are. I’ll talk to you later, Meriadoc." 

"Good-bye, Gandalf." Merry turned to his plate and ate his remaining food with gusto. When he was finished, he returned the empty plate to the cooks, and made his way to Pippin’s tent. Merry was in high spirits, after getting a good night’s sleep and seeing to a full belly. He hoped that Pippin was awake; he missed his cousin’s lively chatter. 

He stepped into Pippin’s tent, and immediately came to a full stop. Mouth gaping, his eyes roamed the entirely of the tent. Pippin’s cot was empty, and there was no sign of Pippin anywhere.
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