Chapter 3. Stuff and Nonsense

When Ferdi finally wakened, halfway through the morning hours, he was groggy but uncooperative.

Pimpernel sat by his side, holding his hand, and she was all that kept him in the bed whilst Healer Woodruff made her examination.

 ‘Lungs clear,’ the healer muttered, lifting her head from his breast.

 ‘There’s nothing wrong with my breathing,’ Ferdi said. ‘I could have saved you all this trouble if you’d only listened to me from the start.’

 ‘No fever,’ Woodruff continued, ignoring him. ‘Heart sound as a drum.’

Pimpernel patted Ferdi’s hand. ‘She’s nearly finished,’ she whispered. ‘Steady on.’

Ferdi took a steadying breath, holding tight to his temper; Woodruff was glad to note that the breath was full, deep and unimpeded.

She sat back with a smile. ‘Well then,’ she said.

 ‘Yes?’ Pimpernel said, leaning forward, her hold on Ferdi’s hand tightening.

 ‘Nothing wrong with you that I can see,’ Woodruff said. ‘So what happened in the night?’

 ‘Naught!’ Ferdi said firmly, but his wife shook her head, her grip on Ferdi’s hand grown painfully tight.

 ‘You stopped breathing, is what I saw,’ Woodruff said calmly. ‘When your wife awakened, you were struggling for breath; she screamed and wakened half the hobbits in this part of the Smials! ...you were turning blue when I reached you. It’s a mercy the Thain had the presence of mind to do that “dwarf breathing” he learned about in the Outlands or we’d be burying you instead of greeting you this morning.’

 ‘Stuff and nonsense,’ Ferdi said.

 ‘At that it was a near thing,’ Woodruff said. ‘The air passages were so constricted he could scarcely blow any breath into your lungs as it was.’

 ‘It was just a dream,’ Ferdi said, and the healer pounced upon that.

 ‘A dream, you say?’ she said. ‘And what sort of dream might it have been?’

The pleading face of the boy he’d handed over to be hanged loomed before Ferdi; he swallowed hard and looked away. ‘I cannot remember,’ he said. ‘That is the way of dreams.’

Woodruff looked intently into his face for a long moment, and then she nodded slowly. ‘If you happen to recall any parts of the dream, I’d like to know about it,’ she said. ‘Not breathing seems rather an extreme reaction to dreaming, though I have heard of such a thing happening once or twice in the past.’

 ‘There, you see?’ Ferdi said to Nell, patting her white-knuckled hand. ‘A rare event, to all appearances, and you’ve no need to worry yourself about it.’ He rose rather unsteadily from the bed, privately cursing the sleeping draught they’d forced upon him in the night.

 ‘And where d’you think you’re going?’ Pimpernel said, maintaining her fierce grip on his hand.

 ‘Nell,’ he answered, gently disengaging her fingers, ‘I’ve duties to perform. Why, I must’ve slept half the day away!’

 ‘Pippin’s released you for the day,’ Pimpernel countered.

Ferdi smiled and kissed the tips of her fingers. ‘Everyone’s blowing this all out of proportion,’ he said lightly. ‘I am well! Look at me!’

Nell looked obediently, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes. ‘You look well enough...’ she said slowly.

 Ferdi laughed. ‘I am!’ he said, ‘Truly, Nell my own! Now then,’ he continued, ‘have you had breakfast?’

When she shook her head, Ferdi looked to Woodruff. ‘Well then,’ he said, ‘it seems to me that you ought to keep an eye on my beloved, lest she fall, fainting from hunger! As for me, I have work that’s going wanting.’

 ‘You ought to eat something...’ Woodruff warned, and Ferdi laughed again.

 ‘Of course!’ he said. ‘I’ll get something, just as soon as I catch up on the news!’ To Pimpernel he said, ‘I shall return to you at teatime, my love!’ And before anyone could offer a contradictory word, he was out the door.

 ‘He looks well enough,’ Nell said uncertainly, and Woodruff sat down beside her and patted her hand.

 ‘You are weary,’ the healer said.

 ‘I am at that,’ Nell admitted. ‘I don’t think I slept at all.’

 ‘Rest now,’ Woodruff said gently. ‘Diamond and Sweetie have your little ones well-looked-after. A tray of breakfast ought to be arriving at any time now...’ Her timing was impeccable, for at that moment there was a tap on the door and a healers’ assistant peeked in. ‘Here we are!’ Woodruff said, rising to take a laden plate from the tray and settling it on a serviette in Pimpernel’s lap. ‘Eat, and lie yourself down for a nap.’

Woodruff took the other plate on the tray for herself, the one that had been intended for Ferdibrand, and settled to the chair beside the bed, chatting companionably. Nell was distracted, but she did her best to keep up her end of the conversation, and to the healer’s satisfaction she began to relax halfway through the meal. When they finished eating, Nell deigned to lie back and “close her eyes for just a moment or two”, and within a few breaths she was asleep, thanks to the soporific qualities of the food Woodruff had ordered.

The healer felt rather drowsy herself as she collected the tray and let herself out. Well, she’d just check in with her assistants and then she might take a page out of Nell’s book, so to speak. Though why anyone would want to take a page out of a book was beyond her... she shook her head, chiding herself for Tookish nonsense worthy of the Thain himself, and went about her business.

***

Ferdi walked briskly to the Thain’s study, where a startled Tolly admitted him.

 ‘What’re you doing here?’ was his greeting.

 ‘I happen to work here, how about you?’ Ferdi returned pleasantly. He nodded at the doorknob under Tolly’s hand, and the head of the Thain’s escort was quickly recalled to his duty, opening the door with a stammer of apology.

Pippin, in the midst of a consultation with a visiting deputation from the Buckland, looked up. ‘Ferdi!’ he said. ‘I gave you the day off; did the message go astray?’

 ‘Must’ve,’ Ferdi answered. ‘In any event, I’m here and I might as well get down to business.’ He settled himself at his desk and pulled out a piece of paper and pen, at once busily jotting down figures in a neat column. ‘Don’t mind me,’ he said to the Bucklanders. ‘Beg pardon for interrupting.’ The Master of Buckland was not with them; it seemed he'd been detained by business, and hoped to get away later, arriving perhaps by teatime the next day if he was able. 

The discussion was interrupted by the arrival of elevenses, and Ferdi, aware of Pippin’s scrutiny, ate heartily of his portion. I am well; no need to worry yourself on my account.

Merry Brandybuck was admitted to the Thain’s study when they were halfway through eating. ‘Well, Pippin!’ he cried. ‘I am here at last, though I apologise for coming in the middle of a meal, and not at the start!’

 ‘Did you ride through the night?’ Pippin said. ‘We didn’t expect you until teatime on the morrow at the earliest!’

 ‘The news I have was worth lost sleep,’ Merry said dismissively. Though hampered by the arm suspended from a strap—a sling of sorts—he fished an impressive-looking envelope from beneath his coat.

 ‘What’s this?’ Pippin said. ‘Have we been invited to a fancy dress ball?’

 ‘Better!’ Merry replied, his eyes dancing. ‘A picnic by the Brandywine Bridge!’

 ‘A picnic!’ Pippin said in astonishment. ‘In the kind of weather we’ve been having!’ He shuddered. ‘We’ll catch our deaths!’

 ‘If it’s cool and misty we’ll have shelter,’ Merry said. ‘In any event, the company that’s promised is beyond reproach.’

Pippin carefully broke the seals and slit the envelope open, pulling out two decorated sheets. ‘My we’re fancy,’ he said.

 ‘Fit for a king,’ Merry answered.

Pippin was not listening; he was frowning at the top sheet. ‘How am I supposed to read this?’ he asked of the air.

 ‘Look at the next page,’ Merry said cheerily. He’d had a missive of his own, it seemed.

Pippin put aside the first page, which was full of some sort of elvish writing, Ferdi could see from where he sat, and began to read, though his frown did not diminish until he got halfway down the page.

 ‘Strider!’ he cried, throwing the letter down and looking up with a grin. ‘Strider’s coming to the North!’

 ‘He is, at that,’ Merry said. ‘Going to spend some time by the Lake, now that he’s got things in the Southlands running smoothly. And he’s invited us to meet him at the Bridge. What a feast we’ll lay out for him! We’ll put those fancy palace cooks to shame, we shall!’

 ‘I can hardly wait,’ Pippin said, his eyes sparkling as he began to pace. ‘Little more than a week away! We’ve so much planning to do...!’