Taking Care of Merry

Pippin is 14, Merry 21, Frodo 35 (Approximately 9, 13, and 22 in Man years)

14 Rethe, 1404 SR; Whitwell
 

Pippin’s party was not going well. Oh sure, he had family and numerous cousins about, more food than he could wish for – and he could wish for quite a lot – and his presents had been received with happy exclamations. Frodo was here and he was telling the most entertaining story to an eager cluster of young hobbits, taking over Bilbo’s role with ease. But all of it was spoiled because the most important hobbit of all was not at the party.

Merry had arrived with his parents four days earlier. He and Pippin had a grand time that day, running about the farm, catching lizards and playing Smaug the Dragon. Merry even let Pippin play Smaug, though he kept laughing every time Pippin roared.

The following day, Merry had woken with a soar throat. Eglantine made him gargle with warm salt water, which Merry had been hard pressed not to spit out before she said it was time, but he had to admit it did improve his throat. After second breakfast, they were allowed outside to play, and Pippin clambered up an apple tree and tossed the juiciest fruits down to Merry. Then they went floating in the pond, munching on their apples and playing Shapes with the clouds overhead.

The next day, Merry had again woken with a sore throat, and a runny nose besides. He didn’t say anything this time though. He simply snuck a couple of handkerchiefs from the linen closet, and he and Pippin had run up to Waymeet to wait for Frodo. When Frodo arrived, they followed their beloved older cousin back to Whitwell, walking much slower so they could catch up and hear everything their cousin had been doing. When they reached the house, they helped him unpack, patiently waited as he caught up with the adults, and finally dragged him out after supper for some night fishing and a camp out by the pond. This was very convenient, for whenever they polished off one bag of snacks, they could dash into the house and retrieve another.

Then yesterday morning came. Frodo and Pippin woke not to the rooster’s crow but to Merry’s uncontrollable coughing. His throat was aching and scratchy, he could hardly speak, his nose was backed up, his eyes were watering, his head was pounding, every muscle in his body was sore and stiff, and his face was flushed with fever.

Frodo rushed them back to the house and the healer was sent for immediately. Eglantine and Esmeralda squared Merry away in the far guest room and tucked him into bed. They were preparing tea when the healer arrived. One look at Merry was all she needed to make a diagnosis. “Flu,” she announced. “It’s been going around and has been keeping me quite busy this month. Not surprising that it's thriving in Brandy Hall as well.”

And so Merry had been stuck in the guest room at the back of the house, and only his mother, and the healer were allowed to see him. Attending the party was out of the question. Esmeralda assured Pippin that Merry was mostly sleeping and wasn’t very good for company. Frodo did his best to play with Pippin and show him a good time, but there was simply no substitute for Merry.

Now Pippin was surrounded by various relations, all of them having a grand time, and all he could do was stare at the solitary gift left sitting on the table, waiting to be given to its recipient. Merry’s gift.

Pippin waited for an opportunity to sneak away and it came near the end of the evening, as everyone was preparing to leave. He noticed Esmeralda saying farewell to the departing cousins and knew this was his chance. He grabbed his present from the table and dashed soundlessly down the hall.

He slipped into Merry’s room and closed the door silently behind him. The room was dimly lit with a lamp and a handful of candles, and Merry was sleeping restlessly, propped up on pillows to relieve congestion. Beside the bed, on a stuffed green chair, sat Frodo, reading a book. Or at least, he had been reading. He smiled warmly at Pippin, not at all surprised to find his youngest friend had found a way to sneak back here.

“You shouldn’t be here Pippin,” Frodo warned kindly.

“But I’ve already been sick this month,” Pippin explained and walked over to Merry, placing the present on the side table. “I tried telling Aunt Esme but she wouldn't listen. Is she coming back?”

“I gave her the night off,” Frodo said. “It is not often she gets to see her brother and sisters.”

“Well, it is not often you get to see everyone either,” Pippin said, trying to sound as dignified and grown up as Frodo. “I’ll take care of Merry. You should go mingle.”

Frodo’s smile widened into a grin. He knew it has been a sore test for Pippin to stay away from Merry the last two days, so he put down his book and went to the door. “Perhaps I’ll stretch my legs for a bit,” he mused. “I’ll be back in an hour, but you must promise me that should Merry have trouble of any kind, you will fetch Esmeralda or your mother immediately.”

“I promise,” Pippin said and dashed over to hug Frodo around the legs. Frodo bent and kissed the top of his curly head and existed the room quietly. He would tell Esmeralda and Eglantine where Pippin was so they wouldn’t worry and then go outside to take a pipe with Saradoc and Paladin.

Pippin was settling into the chair when Merry stirred. “Mum?” he murmured, his eyes still closed.

“Hullo Merry,” Pippin said cheerfully and beamed brightly when Merry peeked his eyes open to look at him. “Are you feeling better yet?”

“No,” Merry replied shortly. He sat up a bit more and suppressed a cough with effort, letting out a slow, careful breath as the fit passed. “My head hurts, I’m all warm and hot, but if I take the blankets off, I start shivering. My throat hurts, my neck hurts, everything hurts. I can’t get comfortable enough in here to sleep for more than ten minutes at a time. Mother tells me I was asleep all morning, but I don’t believe her. I feel so tired.”

“Poor Mer-bear,” Pippin said and crawled onto the bed to hug Merry tightly. He lay down next to his cousin and rested his head on Merry’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat and less healthy breathing. He frowned. “Your chest is all rumbly.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed,” Merry said with a chuckle. He absently ran a hand through Pippin’s curls and felt his cousin relax alongside him. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party. It sounded like a good one.”

“It was all right,” Pippin said, “but I only got to have one piece of cake since you weren’t there to sneak me any more. I brought you your present.” He sat up and reached over to the side table and handed Merry the small, wrapped box.

Merry took it and tore off the paper. He opened the box and laughed. Crammed inside, there was a jumble of marbles, small wood soldiers and tiny stuffed hobbit dolls, as well as various carved animals, rattle toys and noisemakers. “What is this?”

“All the toys you would let me borrow and I would always forget to give back,” Pippin said. “You complained last time I went to visit, so I went through my room and found them all.”

Merry sat up and kissed his cousin on the brow. “Thank you Pip, that’s the best present ever. How about we keep these here, so I’ll have something to play with when I come to visit.”

Pippin nodded eagerly. “I’ll keep them in the box,” he promised, meaning he would put them back in the box each time he finished playing with them. “Are you feeling better now?”

“Much better,” Merry said. He closed the box and set it on the bed next to him before settling back into the pillows exhaustedly. “If only I weren’t so hot and tired.”

Pippin perked up at this and jumped off the bed. He was out the door before Merry could even ask what he was doing. Pippin ran to the linen closet and pulled out a particularly soft hand cloth. He then ran back to the room and stopped at the ewer. He stood on tiptoe and dipped the cloth into the water. When it was adequately soaked, he dashed over to Merry, who had been silently watching him with an amused expression on his flushed face, and placed the dripping cloth over Merry’s forehead.

Merry laughed. “I think you’re supposed to drain the water out a bit first Pip,” he advised.

“Oh,” Pippin said. He grabbed the cloth back up, went back to the ewer and squeezed out as much water as he could. He jumped back onto the bed and placed the cloth on Merry’s forehead again. “Better now?”

“Tremendously,” Merry said. He reached over to pull Pippin down to lay next to him again, but Pippin was off the bed and out the door before he could blink. Merry stared out the door, bewildered. What was his cousin up to now?

He found out soon enough. He tried desperately not to laugh when Pippin came back, holding his old, motley and stained (despite various washings) stuffed pony. Pippin climbed back onto the bed and handed the pony, who was appropriately named Bandobras, to his cousin. “Here Merry,” he said, his face a study of absolute seriousness. “You can have Bando tonight. He always helps me sleep.”

“Thank you Pippin,” Merry managed to say without grinning too much. “I shall never sleep more soundly, I’m certain.”

With that Pippin finally settled down next to Merry again, and Merry wrapped one arm snuggly around him, while the other held Bandobras the Pony. Pippin snuggled into his friend’s side and closed his eyes, once again listening to the steady rhythm of Merry’s heartbeat, and he was almost certain Merry’s chest sounded better already.

They were fast asleep by the time Frodo returned from his pipe. He stood in the doorway, watching his friends sleep, bathed in the gentle glow of candlelight, and burned the picture into his mind. Then he went to fetch their parents so they could do likewise.
 
 

The End.
 
 

GF 1/29/05