Chapter 15. All Through the Night

Ferdi dug frantically until his fingers found a piece of clothing. ‘Keep digging!’ he cried to Beregrin. ‘Keep digging!’ He pulled at the coat, for coat it was, but the earth refused to give up its prize so easily and Ferdi was forced to scrape away more dirt and rock before he could haul Farry free. ‘Faramir!’ he shouted, shaking the limp hobbit. ‘Farry!’

From the sound of it, Berry was weeping again. His voice retreated slightly and Ferdi heard Merigrin moan, then say confusedly, ‘It’s all right, Be-Bo, it’s just a bad dream. There, there.’ Ferdi imagined the older brother holding the younger one close in the inky darkness. ‘What’s happened to the watch lamp?’ Merigrin said.

 ‘Smashed, all smashed, like my arm,’ Borogin said through his teeth. ‘Uncle Ferdi, how’s Farry?’

 ‘Stay with us, Farry! Breathe!’ Ferdi muttered, but there was no response. He heard scrambling behind him and sensed the presence of Faramir’s brothers gathering round.

 ‘Do something!’ Merigrin, sounding well-awake now, anguish in his tone.

Dim memory stirred in Ferdibrand then; he placed one hand beneath Faramir’s neck and the other on his nephew’s forehead, fastened his mouth on the younger hobbit’s and blew hard. Air whistled from Farry’s nose and so Ferdi moved to pinch it off. He blew again.

 ‘What’re you doing?’ Merigrin asked. ‘Is he breathing?’

 ‘No,’ Ferdi said, coming up for a breath of his own before forcing more air into Faramir. ‘I remembered – your father did this – when I nearly died – after Bywater,’ he said in between breaths.

 ‘The Dwarf-breathing!’ Beregrin said. ‘When the troll crushed Da flat, Gimli blew him up again like you’d blow up a pig’s blatter!’

 ‘Yes,’ Ferdi agreed. He was beginning to feel a bit dizzy and stopped talking to concentrate on the task.

 ‘I remember,’ Merigrin said softly. ‘The Dwarves would revive their own when they got buried in a digging.’ Ferdi heard him move a little closer. ‘Come on, Farry, breathe!’

 ‘Breathe, Farry!’ the twins said in unison.

Ferdibrand did not know how much longer he could keep up his efforts, but suddenly he felt Faramir moving. He hesitated, poised to blow again, and his nephew took a gasping breath, and then another. ‘He’s breathing!’ he said in triumph. ‘Farry?’

Faramir didn’t answer, but at least he was breathing on his own. Ferdibrand gave a shaky sigh and sat back. ‘How are you, Meri?’ he asked.

 ‘Stiff, sore, but awake,’ Merigrim answered.

 ‘Anything broken?’ Ferdi said.

 ‘No,’ Merigrim answered. ‘Thankfully.’

 ‘Good,’ Ferdi said. ‘You can help me set Borry’s arm.’

 ‘In the dark?’ Borry piped.

 ‘It’s all the same to me,’ Ferdi said. ‘It’ll be more difficult if we wait.’ His head continued to swim, from lack of food more likely than not. He took another deep breath and said, ‘Feel about on the floor, see if you can find any torches that were shaken out of their brackets.’

Two torches were found. Ferdi shed his upper garments, putting on waistcoat and coat again but biting his shirt and tearing the fabric into strips which he wound carefully. ‘Berry,’ he said.

 ‘Here,’ answered the youngster promptly.

 ‘Hold out your hands.’ Ferdi pressed the rolls of bandages into the young hobbit’s hands. ‘Now you hold onto these; hold them right there so I can find them when I reach for them. Meri!’

 ‘Yessir,’ Mergrin answered.

 ‘We’ll sit Borry against the wall; can you scoot back, Borry? Settle your back nice and firm,’ he said. He felt the wall and the lad to be sure of the position. ‘Brace yourself with your feet; we’re going to have a bit of a tugging contest.’

 ‘Yes Uncle Ferdi,’ Borry said bravely.

 ‘Now, Meri’s going to take your arm and start to pull as gently as he can. It’s going to hurt, Borry, but you’re a brave lad I know.’ Ferdi guided Merigrin’s hand to his younger brother’s. ‘Is this the one, Borry? We don’t want to set the wrong arm!’

 ‘That’s the one, Uncle Ferdi,’ Borry gulped.

 ‘Very well, Meri. Gentle pull, now, a little more, that’s it.’ He could hear Borry’s breathing, harsh in the darkness, and Berry murmuring reassurances as he moved his hands on the lad’s arm, feeling for the alignment of the bones. ‘A little more,’ he said, and then again, ‘a little harder, Meri, don’t worry, you won’t pull his arm off completely.’

 ‘No, only half off,’ Borry gritted, and Ferdi grinned.

 ‘Brave lad,’ he said, and then in satisfaction, ‘That’s got it!’ He picked up one of the torches, lined it up against the now straight arm, and swiftly bound it in place with strips of shirt. ‘A sling, now,’ he said, slipping a makeshift support over Borogrin’s head to hold the arm steady. ‘There, Borry, that’s done.’ He heard the lad sigh and slump against the wall.

 ‘What do we do now?’ Merigrin asked.

 ‘We look for a way out,’ Ferdibrand answered. ‘Of course.’ He left the lads huddled together while he felt his way back towards the suites. Another fall of dirt and rock stopped him before he reached the first door.

At his sigh, Merigrin called anxiously, ‘Uncle Ferdi!’

 ‘I’m well,’ Ferdibrand said. ‘I’m coming back.’ He kept up a steady stream of reassurances as he felt his way back to the lads and settled against the wall. ‘It looks as if we’ll have to sit tight here and wait for them to find us,’ he said. Never had he felt so closed in since the day he first opened his eyes to darkness. He wondered if the air were getting stuffy already or if it was his imagination.

 ‘Will they find us?’ Berry whispered.

 ‘Of course they will, lad,’ Ferdi said stoutly. ‘Your Da won’t rest until his sons are safe, nor will my Nell let him rest until I’m safe!’

 ‘I’m cold,’ Borry whispered, and indeed, it was chilly underground with no warming fires or torches or lamps.

 ‘Here, lad,’ Ferdi said, shrugging out of his coat again. ‘Wrap yourself in this.’ He tucked it around the lad, careful of the arm. ‘Berry, you can share the coat with him. As a matter of fact, let us all huddle together. It’ll be warmer that way. Now, who knows a good story to tell?’

And so the hours passed, filled with story and song, until the young ones grew sleepy. Ferdi and Meri sang for a time after the twins dropped off and then Merigrin’s voice fell away and Ferdi sang alone in the darkness. At last his own voice trailed into silence and he joined the others in sleep.

***

April 30

 ‘Merry!’ Diamond said as the Master of Buckland thrust his way into the pavilion. Estella hurried forward to embrace her old friend. ‘Estella!’

 ‘Pippin?’ Merry said softly, falling to his knees by the pallet. ‘I’m here, Pip.’ His cousin gave no sign of hearing. ‘He’s so pale,’ Merry whispered.

 ‘He was thrown through a window,’ Diamond said, and Estella gasped. ‘It could have been much worse. He caught at something and Regi hauled him back into the study before he could slip and be dashed to pieces on the stones.’

 ‘He always said the view from the Thain’s study was to die for,’ Estella murmured. ‘O forgive me, Diamond, I don’t know what I’m saying.’

 ‘You’re tired, I expect,’ Diamond said. ‘Lie yourself down, Tilly, and rest. It’s a long way from Buckland, and you must have done it in one long ride.’

 ‘Can’t stop at the Cockerel, it’s gone,’ Estella said, wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand. Merry rose to take hold of her and escorted her to a nearby pallet, probably there for Diamond’s convenience. ‘I am well,’ Estella protested.

 ‘Of course you are, my dear,’ Merry said, laying her down and pulling the coverlet over. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

 ‘It is tomorrow,’ Estella yawned. ‘The Sun is already throwing her promise into the sky; soon she’ll rise from her bed.’

 ‘Of course she will,’ Merry said in a soothing tone. Estella knew very well what he was doing, crooning her off to sleep, but she was too tired to say so, and in another moment she sighed and said no more.

 ‘Legolas is here,’ Diamond said as Merry settled opposite her again.

 ‘Then Gimli is helping with the digging-out,’ Merry said. ‘Good.’

Legolas entered the pavilion then with a greeting for Merry.

 ‘Old friend, it is good to see you again,’ Merry said.

 ‘Indeed, young friend,’ Legolas replied.

 ‘How is Pippin?’ Merry asked, as Legolas settled himself once more at Pippin’s head.

 ‘Deeply grieved,’ Legolas said, ‘and without the strength to bear it.’ He placed his hand on Pippin’s forehead. ‘He is calling for you again, Diamond. He doesn’t seem to know you’re beside him.’

 ‘I’m here,’ Diamond said instantly, her hands tightening on Pippin's. She took one hand away to stroke Pippin’s cheek. ‘I’m here, my love, do you hear me?’

 ‘That’s better,’ Legolas said softly. ‘He’s resting again.’

 ‘I’m here too, Pip,’ Merry said, bending close. ‘Stay with us.’ Grieved? Bad as the disaster was, the Tooks were dealing with it, with courage and determination.

Diamond looked up in time to read the look. ‘Farry’s gone,’ she whispered, and swallowed back her tears. Now was no time to be weeping, when there was Pippin’s life yet to be won. His grief was a heavy enough burden, she mustn’t add to it but speak instead of hope and love.

Merry straightened in shock, but Legolas nodded.

 ‘They pulled him out? What of his brothers?’ He’d been sketchily filled in on his way from the picket line to the pavilion.

 ‘He’s not been found yet,’ Diamond said, then swallowed hard once more and began to croon a song to Pippin.

 ‘He said goodbye to his father,’ Legolas whispered. ‘I heard him as he was passing away. Somehow Pippin heard him as well.’

Through the rest of that long and wearisome day they waited, watching with Pippin by turns. Merry’s skills as Master were not needed to help with the rescue and recovery, but his presence helped to sustain his failing cousin. Estella could not get him to lie down after she wakened but made sure that he ate and drank. Diamond, too, stayed glued to Pippin’s side, talking and singing until she was hoarse, trying to call her beloved back from the pit of despair.

 ‘Elessar... Athelas,’ Merry said late that night when Healer Sigimand checked his patient and shook his head, muttering about forcing fluids with a feeding tube if they must.

 ‘I sent a messenger to the Lake late yesterday,’ Diamond said hopelessly. ‘He’s not so far away as he might be, were he in Gondor, but...’ It’s too far. Even were he to break his own Edict, it’s too far. Farry is dead and Pip is too heart-sick and weary to keep fighting.

 ‘It would have been his wedding day,’ Estella murmured, for she was thinking of Farry as well. The weary day had passed to its end and another dawn would arrive in a few hours, a dawn that promised a memorial feast when there should have been a wedding breakfast. She thought of Goldi, working steadily at whatever task came to hand, of Sam and his sons digging with unflagging determination in the dark underground tunnels with muscles honed in bright gardens, of the Tooks seeking their own, vowing that none would rest until all were found.