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DISCLAIMER:  Of course. The characters don’t belong to me, I just get to think about them day and night.

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“Their eyes beheld first of all things the stars of heaven.  Therefore they have ever loved the starlight.”  The Silmarillion, ‘Of the Coming of the Elves’

MIND TO MIND

Chapter 5 -- Dreams of Starlight

Pippin opened his eyes to see Celeborn’s face above him.

“What are you doing here?” Pippin asked, confused.  He felt dizzy and groggy, and it took lifting his head only a fraction to realize that he barely had the strength to move.

“This is my tent,” Celeborn said with a smile.  “It is easier for me to look after you here.”

Pippin frowned, trying to think clearly.  He was lying on a comfortable bed in a large, unfamiliar tent, under several layers of soft blankets.  His right arm lay atop the coverlet, and he saw that it was loosely bandaged from his wrist to just below the elbow.

“Do you remember what happened, Pippin?” Celeborn asked.

“The cave,” Pippin whispered.  “Did you… are they back?”  He looked around frantically, but saw no one else in the large tent.

“They have not yet returned,” Celeborn said gently.  He sat on the bed next to Pippin.  “Gandalf, Elrond, Galadriel, Elrohir, and Samwise have gone to find our lost ones.  It has been but a few hours since you bravely made your way back to us.”  He felt the hobbit’s face, unsurprised to find a slight fever developing.  The deep cut in Pippin’s arm had been full of dirt, and tiny shards of metal and glass had been driven into it.  Although he had thoroughly cleaned the wound prior to suturing, he had feared that infection could not be completely avoided.

“How do you feel?”

Pippin started to say that he felt fine, and wanted to go after Merry and Frodo at once, but the deep, ageless eyes of the Elf Lord demanded truth.  “Dizzy,” he sighed, “and achy.  I feel so… heavy,” he continued, trying to move his arms and legs.  “Sleepy, and a little hungry.”  He tried to smile.  “I don’t feel too badly, really.  Having a cave fall on you isn’t nearly as bad as having a troll do so.”

Celeborn laughed.  “No one would know that better than you, my friend!”  He slid gentle fingers behind Pippin’s head, and the hobbit winced.  “You have a bump here,” the Elf Lord said, “and some bruising on your shoulders and back.  In your haste to assist Elladan, and return to get help, I doubt you even noticed other injuries.”

Pippin sighed.  “I just remember running and running…”

“And falling more than once,” Celeborn chuckled.  “I hope you do not mind that we bathed the mud from you.  Before he left, Sam brought me some of your spare clothing so you might wear something more than a nightshirt.”

“Good old Sam,” Pippin grinned.  He looked down at his bandaged arm, which hurt, but not terribly so.  “Did you do that?”

“I did,” Celeborn said gravely.  “I hope you will not be displeased with my suturing skills.  We use a single thread of hithlain when sewing a wound; it should heal without a scar.”

“Thank you,” Pippin whispered.

“Can you move your fingers for me?” Celeborn asked, touching Pippin’s right hand gently.  He nodded, satisfied, as the small fingers moved.  “Very good,” he smiled.

Pippin watched as Celeborn got to his feet and began to mix various powders in a cup, then add warmed water.  The Elf Lord’s eyes kept straying to the east as he worked.

“You’re worried about her, aren’t you?” Pippin asked suddenly.

Celeborn looked at the hobbit in surprise.

“Aren’t you?” Pippin persisted.

“Yes,” Celeborn admitted.  “My Lady is always first in my thoughts, Pippin.”

“How long have you been married?”

“A very long time,” the Elf Lord replied.  “I loved her at first sight.”

“Did her family like you?”

Celeborn could not keep from smiling.  The straightforward manner of the hobbits, and their eager curiosity, were an endless source of delight.  He finished mixing the tonic and slid his arm beneath Pippin’s shoulders, gently lifting the hobbit a bit so he could drink.  Pippin found the warm liquid to be surprisingly sweet tasting, and drank it slowly.

“My Lady had four brothers,” Celeborn said with a grin.  “They were wary of anyone courting their sister, therefore I was on my best behavior.”

“Four?”

“Indeed.  Have you brothers?”

“Sisters,” Pippin sighed.  “Three.”  He yawned, suddenly very drowsy.  The warm drink had filled his stomach much as a good meal would, reminding him vaguely of what Glorfindel had given them on the Road nearly a year before.  “What was in that?”

“It is a restorative tonic,” Celeborn said.  “You lost a great deal of blood, Pippin; do not be surprised if you feel lightheaded, or very tired, for several days.  You must rest as much as possible.”

“Please don’t put me to sleep,” Pippin begged.  “I need to be awake when Merry and Frodo come back.”

“There are no sleep herbs in the tonic,” Celeborn assured him.  “You do not require them.  Your body naturally wishes to sleep so that it may rest and heal.  When you wake, I will have nourishing foods ready that I hope you will enjoy, and herbal drinks that will help you regain your strength.”

“Don’t use up all the medicines on me,” Pippin said in sudden alarm.  “The others might be… they might need…”

“Do not worry,” Celeborn said gently.  “Whatever Merry, Frodo, and Elladan may need, it will be ready for them.”

Pippin was unwilling to give in to the heavy drowsiness pulling at him, and tried to keep the conversation going.  “Did you know that the Balrog is up there on the peak above us?”

“Indeed it is,” Celeborn smiled at him.  “And did you know that when the Lord of Eagles brought Gandalf to us, we tended him as I am tending you?”

“I didn’t think wizards ever got hurt.  I mean, not much hurt.”

“Ah, but they do,” Celeborn said with a chuckle.  “And he was a most difficult patient.”

Pippin found that he rather enjoyed the thought of Gandalf lying abed, complaining about itchy bandages and the taste of medicine.  He yawned again, and Celeborn began a soft song.  Pippin had never before heard the Elf Lord sing, and he liked his voice -- low and rich.  He couldn’t understand the words, but they sounded… he could almost…  He fell fast asleep amidst visions of starlit skies and fresh green woodlands.

Celeborn looked up suddenly, his eyes unfocused as his thoughts were filled with Galadriel’s presence and voice.  He nodded to himself, then left the tent.  Elladan was alive, but injured.  An armed guard must be sent, prepared to escort Saruman back to camp.  He paused to look back at the large tent and sighed, wondering how many injured Elves or hobbits might occupy it by nightfall.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Sam, having squirmed through the same small hole in the debris as Pippin had, finally stood within the cave itself.  He drew Sting, which he had insisted on bringing -- and breathed a sigh of relief at its continued darkness.  No orcs, then.  There was that, at least.  Ahead he could see the flickering light from a dying fire, and it drew him forward.

Gandalf, Elrohir, Elrond, and Galadriel, who had been working feverishly to pull aside as much debris as they could from the mostly-blocked entrance, finally cleared a path wide enough for them to enter the cave, as well -- and allow them to bring out any of their injured companions.

“Gandalf!” Sam cried out, “over here!”

The wizard spoke a soft word, and his staff suddenly blazed with light, illuminating a great deal of the cavern.  All eyes were drawn to where Elladan lay, pale and still.  One end of a thick, heavy beam lay partially across his chest, and Sam was struggling to move it, with no success.

Elrohir instantly ran to where his brother lay, and, asking Sam to move aside, grasped the end of the beam with both hands.  With a hoarse cry, his every muscle straining, he heaved it off his brother’s chest and let it fall heavily to the ground.  Panting, he knelt by Elladan and cupped his hands about the still face, willing his brother to sense his presence.  Galadriel quickly knelt next to Elrohir; she closed Elladan’s limp fingers once again around the phial, then lay her right hand over his forehead.  Sam thought he saw a white flash, then a gentle light seemed to permeate the unconscious Elf.  Gandalf began to build up the fire with the dry wood that was available, and Sam hurried to help him.

Elrond, meanwhile, had moved aside the cloaks and jackets Pippin had draped over Elladan.  He ran careful, skilled fingers over his injured son, perceiving with both body and mind.  “Three cracked ribs,” he murmured, “but that does not account for the weakness I sense.  Much of Elladan’s strength has been expended fighting… something…”

“Saruman,” Gandalf muttered.  “He has little power left, but would not have been able to resist such a vulnerable target.  Saruman has no love for Elves, or any other living thing.”

“Mr. Pippin must have left the water bottle nearby,” Sam said, “and Elladan’s got Mr. Frodo’s star-glass.”

Galadriel was nodding.  “Pippin said that he did all he could -- without quite knowing how, he somehow sensed that the phial would be of benefit.”

“These injuries could have been much worse,” Elrond said with obvious relief, beginning to loosen Elladan’s tunic.

“I will take care of him, father,” Elrohir said, already pulling out long strips of cloth from his pack.  “I will bind his ribs well enough for him to endure the trip back to camp -- once there, we can tend to him more carefully.”

“I will stay with Elrohir,” Galadriel said, her hand still resting gently on Elladan’s forehead.  “Even with the phial to aid him, Elladan nearly spent himself in resisting the cold darkness that sought to take him from us.”  She closed her eyes and smiled.  “Nenya’s power is still strong enough to strengthen and preserve.  He dreams now, and starlight surrounds him.  The healing can begin.”

“Celeborn sensed that all three rings would be needed,” Elrond observed thoughtfully.  “I wonder now what we will discover when we locate Frodo and Merry.”

Elrohir looked around.  “There is so much debris scattered about, I will be able to fashion a stretcher.  We will keep Elladan warm and comfortable until you return.”  He began to bind his brother’s ribs, causing Elladan to stir slightly and grimace in pain.  “Leave us a draught for him, father,” Elrohir continued.  “If he wakes, he will be in great pain; and he will travel more easily if kept asleep.”  He gently stroked Elladan’s brow, and the injured Elf quieted under his brother’s touch.

Sam, meanwhile, was peering into the entrance of a passageway behind them, using as a torch a long branch he had thrust into the fire and set ablaze.

“Is that where those villains took Mr. Frodo and Mr. Merry?” he asked suddenly.

“Yes,” Gandalf said.  “Frodo sent an image of this very spot.”

“What exactly did Mr. Frodo show you, Gandalf?” Sam persisted.

“A long passageway, Sam,” Gandalf replied.  “Then turnings of right, left, then right again.  Apparently he and Merry are being held by Saruman in a large, empty chamber.  We must be cautious; Frodo didn’t know whether or not either Saruman or Wormtongue were armed.”

“I will let Celeborn know what is required,” Galadriel assured him.  “A handful of our warriors, armed with bows, should be enough to escort Saruman and his servant back to camp with us.  It will not take them long to arrive.”

Gandalf nodded.  “Do so, at once.  We may need assistance taking Elladan down that slope, and we don’t know in what condition we will find the hobbits.  They may be---”  Suddenly he looked around, scowling in anger.  “Blast it,” he muttered.  “I should have known.”

Sam was gone.

** TBC **

*~*~*~*~*~*

Ailsa Joy:  Sorry, Ailsa!  I do plan to relieve your “hobbit-worry mode” -- starting with this chapter.

Ainu Laire:  Wow, Saruman had better go into hiding after this fic -- so many of you are ready to go after him with pitchforks!

aprilkat:  That’s it, exactly!  Saruman is so arrogant and “above” everyone else, he has no idea what’s going on under his very nose.  And thank you so much for saying that I show the characters “at the best of their potential” -- that means a great deal.

Arathlithiel1:  I believe Sam will be a tad miffed at Saruman’s treatment of Frodo.  Stay tuned for Chapter 6…

Ariel3:  *now a cold drink to go with all that popcorn*

Athril:  Thank you, so much!  I hope you enjoy the ‘Pippin-ness’ of this chapter.

Bookworm2000:  The hobbits appreciate your hug!

Camellia Gamgee-Took:  I do think that “Sharkey” was out to create as much chaos as possible in the lives of everyone he met.  Grrrrrr.

Carcilwen Greenleaf:  What is Saruman thinking, being bad to your hobbits?  We’ll just have to see about that…

ClaudiaofBree:  Thanks, Claudia!  Prof. Tolkien’s portrayal of Saruman is so good, I’m able to imagine him perfectly.  And…poor Frodo!  We’d better get him rescued very soon!

Connie:  Just for you, I hurried us back to Pippin!

elentari*angel:  I love how you want the hobbits rescued immediately… but not too quickly!

Elven Kitten:  With all your hugs to comfort them, how can the hobbits lose?  :)

Elwen:  Maybe that’s what that encampment for seven days was all about -- a field hospital!

endymion2:  Oh gosh, everyone wants the hobbits rescued soon, and you want “severe obstacles”!  LOL

Esamen:  I absolutely insist, however weakened he might be, that Frodo still show the strength of will and goodness that made him such a formidable Ringbearer.

fadagaski:  I honestly never know in advance how long my stories will be -- sorry!  And I’m honored that this is one of the few fics you’re following.

Firnsarnien:  You’re right, it was high time they rescued Elladan!  And don’t worry -- rescuing the hobbits won’t mean the end of the story.

Gayalondiel:  After this story is over, I’m going to let you have some time alone with Saruman.  I suspect there won’t be much left when you’re finished with him.

Gentle Hobbit:  I’m so glad that Frodo equating Saruman’s voice with that of the Ring seems plausible.  (And his “mind reading” probably isn’t AU!  He did “hear” Gandalf at Amon Hen, and Galadriel did say to him, in Lórien, “You have perceived my thoughts more clearly than many that are accounted wise.”)

girlofring:  Thank you.  I’m so glad you’re enjoying this!

GTA Otaku:  It’s not easy writing such an obsessive, truly evil character, and I wasn’t sure I could pull it off.  Nasssty ex-wizard.

Hai Took:  You’re so worried about everyone, I must get them all rescued, and fast!

heartofahobbit:  Thank you for your lovely words!  I suspect that we all “live” in Middle-earth, to some degree.

hobbitfeet13:  I actually do think that, by the end of the War (if not before), Saruman was truly insane.  I’ll get the hobbits out of his clutches as soon as I can, I promise!  I don’t think there will be any cliffhangers quite as bad as the ones you’ve already lived through, so you can relax.  A little.

Hobbit Lily Baggins:  Don’t worry, Lily, hobbit-help is on the way!  *coats your nails in soothing lotion*

horseblaze:  Wow, thank you so much.  It’s difficult for me to write insane (or enslaved) villains, and I’m glad they seem to sound “true” to you.  Oh yes, ‘my’ Frodo will always have a core of steel at the heart of everything.

hyperactive forever:  Gosh, I would never “torture” anyone -- just a bit of angst here or there…!

Jenni:  Hope you enjoyed this Pippin-chapter!  And yes, it was high time they rescued Elladan!

Leah Beth:  It is difficult to keep three storylines going, especially since I’ve never tried it before!  Thanks, Leah Beth!

Lily:  Oh no, Lily, don’t start biting your nails again!  I promise that Frodo will (eventually) be fine.

LilyBaggins:  Fear not, Lily -- I’m running out of evil characters!  It’ll be back to the puppies for me, soon enough.  Hee hee… only a FrodoHealer would applaud Frodo’s “nice fever and cough”.  Love it.

Little Mouse:  Yay for brave Pippin!  And yay for Elladan rescue!  And yay for rescues to come!

lovethosehobbits:  I anticipate your chapters just as anxiously, tree!

Lyta Padfoot:  That’s exactly right!  Saruman utilized his “evil search engine” to mainly focus on the Ring.  Oh wow, I haven’t read the “Unfinished Tales”, but now I definitely want to.

Lossenchristal:  Hurrah for Frodo, indeed!  And you’re right -- it was definitely time to get Elladan some help.

Meethrill:  I love digging up tiny details (like gold with no jewel to focus its power) and working them into a story.  Thank you for noticing!

Melylott S. Banks:  Frodo is so wonderfully brave, as are all the hobbits.  Saruman certainly does tend to underestimate everyone he meets, doesn’t he?  (And Frodo loves your huggles!)

Pearl Took:  Thanks, Pearl!  And I completely agree -- Saruman spends so much time feeling underestimated by everyone, he tends to underestimate everyone else.

Periantari:  I’m afraid that Frodo coughing is nothing more than a plot device so that Saruman knows he’s getting ill (and thinks he can take his time and wait for Frodo to weaken).  Frodo did have a fever the night before, and between the soaking rain and the cold puddle, he’s become susceptible to a quick illness.

Pip4:  Now now, I don’t always end chapters with evil cliffies!  Sometimes, though, they just sneak in there…

Pippinfan1988:  Thank you very much.  (And I love your description of Saruman’s ring!)

rabidsamfan:  The rescuers are getting closer.  Almost there!

Samwise the Strong:  Nothing but gentleness for Merry, from now on!

Willow:  Thank you, Willow!  And I agree -- isn’t it typical of the arch-villain to want to boast about their plans to someone!