Chapter 47. Life and Death and Somewhere Between
 
Elanor didn’t bounce out of bed as usual, and when she did sit up and stretch, roused by the chatter of her brothers and sisters, her nose seemed to fill suddenly with sniffles, and the next thing she knew... Ah-tchoo!

Her mother straightened abruptly from thrusting Pip-lad’s shirt buttons through his buttonholes. She shooed the younger Gamgees from the childrens’ bedroom, little Daisy in young Rose’s arms and baby Primrose in Merry-lad’s, telling them to join their father at the breakfast table. ‘Ellie?’ she said, hurrying to the bedside to brush her eldest daughter’s forehead with her lips. ‘No fever,’ she muttered.

 ‘I’m well, Mum,’ Elanor protested, but her voice sounded strange to her own ears, rather fuddled, and she sniffed.

 ‘Use a pocket-handkerchief for that!’ Rose reminded automatically, pulling the required item from one of the capacious pockets of her morning-apron and thrusting it at her daughter. ‘Well, Ellie, it seems you’ve come down with a cold in the head!’

 ‘It’s naught but a few sneezles!’ Elanor protested. ‘I feel right as rain, really I do, Mum!’

 ‘Nonetheless, you’ll stay abed today, and not attend the Queen,’ Rose said decidedly.

 ‘But Mum!’ Elanor wailed.

 ‘Ellie!’ Rose said in shock. ‘What are you about, child?’

Elanor took a deep breath, surprised at herself. ‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she said meekly. ‘I didn’t mean to contradict, really I didn’t. It’s only that Queen Arwen told me that she hardly knew how she’d get along without me, seeing as how it’s already haying-time and we might be up and leaving any time...’

 ‘Well, she’ll have to get along somehow,’ Rose said, still huffy, ‘for I know as I cannot spare you, child, and I certainly won’t be leaving you behind when we return... but honestly, you cannot attend the Queen with Sneezles! Why, you might pass your cold on to the little princess, or worse...’

 ‘Worse?’ Elanor said, wondering. Could Queen Arwen catch a cold? It seemed beneath her, somehow.

 ‘Worse,’ Rose said grimly. ‘If young Faramir Took were to catch your cold, and pass it on to his father...’

Elanor opened her mouth and closed it again immediately as she remembered a cryptic comment or two, casually overheard.

 ‘Mum, what did Dad mean, when he said a good cold could carry off the Thain?’ she said in puzzlement. How could there be a “good” cold? And how could anything pick up tall Thain Peregrin, much less carry him?

Her mother’s reaction was even more puzzling; Rose jumped as if stung and then briskly plumped Elanor’s pillow before pulling the coverlet up to her chin. ‘Now,’ the hobbit mum said, ‘you just rest here—mind you use that handkerchief!—and I’ll see about bringing you some breakfast on a tray. You’ll spend the day in bed, and likely be as right as rain in the morning!’ She bustled from the room.

Elanor wanted to ask what made rain “right”, but she knew her mother would make short work of such nonsense, though when the Thain asked such a question, as he was always doing, her mother would simply smile and shake her head, saying, “Now, then...”

The teen caught her breath in sudden understanding, and tears came to her eyes. She found it necessary to blow her nose more vigorously than before.

 ‘I hope you’re making good use of that handkerchief!’ Rose called from the sitting room.

Elanor gulped, blinked, dabbed at her eyes and found her voice, froggy though it might be. ‘I am, Mum!’ she called back.

***

Posey brushed her husband’s forehead with her lips. She’d sat for some time, watching Hilly sleep, lost in her thoughts.  O the healers hadn’t said, in so many words... but it was more what they didn’t say, now, wasn’t it? She’d had her share of dealing with healers over the years: her father-in-love, and Hilly’s eldest brother Mardi, and Healer Woodruff, even before Woodruff became head healer at the Great Smials, and certainly afterwards.

She had taken her turns as watcher by the bedside of sick or injured hobbits, heard the whispered consultations, come to know the healers’ private language and how they always turned a smiling face to the families, always, though the smile be tinged with sympathy and seasoned with tears, hastily dashed away before a loved one’s entrance.

Truth be told, she didn’t feel all that terrible. A little tired, perhaps, with a nagging weariness that was never quite satisfied with sleep. But then, she’d gone so very long without sleep, during the desperate days of tiny Liliana’s illness and then in the wordless misery after, that she really thought she’d never feel completely rested again. She wondered how many days, weeks, or—dare she hope for years?—were left to her? ...but then, none of us knows how many sips are in the cup. Why, Hilly might have drowned in that bog, or died of the Old Gaffer’s Friend, after, had it not been for the wonder of the age-old draught.

 ‘Good morning, my love,’ she whispered as Hilly’s breathing changed and his eyelids fluttered. ‘Is it that you’ll be sleeping all day, then?’

His arms came up around her, pulling her down to lie beside him, and she gladly surrendered to his embrace.

***

 ‘None of them will admit anything, save that he’s troubled by his old wounds,’ Elessar said, watching the sun rising, turning the towers of the City first to purple, then rose, then gold before they awakened to glimmering white.

 ‘But it’s more than that,’ Elrohir said soberly. ‘He shows all the signs...’

 ‘You know it, brother, and I know it, and even Elladan knows it,’ the King said in frustration.

The latter did not protest, but neither did he smile at the customary banter that still arose upon occasion when the King was alone with his foster-brothers. ‘Even I know it,’ he affirmed, ‘and that’s telling.’

  ‘Have you asked Pippin himself?’ Elrohir said.

Elessar’s shoulders slumped. ‘I have,’ he said. ‘But you know how stubborn hobbits can be. “I am well, Strider!” he says, eyes wide with surprise. “Don’t you go fussing round me, testing out this potion or that! I’m wise to your ways now, you know, and you won’t be trying any of your healers’ tricks if you know what’s good for you!” And what am I to say to that?’

 ‘You might say what we’ve all seen,’ Elladan said slowly. ‘The half breaths, the pallor, the fact that he’s thinner than a hobbit ought to be, not to mention...’

 ‘Not to mention,’ the King said, ‘and that’s the trouble. He changes the subject with the ease of long practice, and I find myself in a discussion a world away from my first question, without even noticing!’

 ‘That’s our Pippin all over,’ Elrohir said with a rare smile and a shake of his head. ‘Young scamp. Do you recall the trouble he was in, before we left Cormallen for the coronation, and how he evaded all questioning until his cousin Merry...’

 ‘But his cousin Merry has joined his side in this matter,’ Elessar said. ‘And when they present a united front, they are a force to be reckoned with, indeed.’

 ‘His wife...’ Elladan said, still seeking for a chink in the hobbit’s defences.

 ‘She is in agreement with the rest,’ Elessar said. ‘When I asked her about her concern, the day we put Merry on the table, she said only that Pippin worried so about his cousin, she feared he might be brought low under the strain. When I questioned her further, she would only say it was “not her news” to tell.’

 ‘A curious phrase, considering how they love their gossip,’ Elladan said.

 ‘I feel that my hands are tied, if we do not have their confidence in this matter,’ Elessar said.

Elrohir nodded.

 ‘Had you considered...?’ Elladan said suddenly, and left off. The others turned to him.

 ‘What is it, brother?’ Elrohir said.

 ‘Perhaps there’s nothing to be done,’ Elladan said at last. ‘Pippin was quick enough to ask for help for Merry’s shoulder...’

 ‘It was like him to put another before himself,’ Elrohir said, but Elladan shook his head.

 ‘I cannot see any who loved him hesitating, if they thought that healer’s skill could help him,’ he said stubbornly. ‘They’d nag him mercilessly until he sought out our aid, simply to quiet their demands.’

‘Perhaps...’ Elrohir began, but he was interrupted.

 ‘They’ve given him up,’ Elladan persisted. At Elessar’s quizzical look, he elaborated. ‘It’s the phrase they used about the other perian, the one they call “Ferdi”. They’d given him up, Hilly said, and were waiting for him to die, for there was nothing within their scope to save him. The draught was a last, desperate attempt.’

 ‘Given him up,’ Elessar muttered under his breath. ‘Well, if he has maintained his stubborn pretence that all is well, up to the day of his departure, I’m going to do my best to trap him somehow, and learn the truth of the matter. This is not just the residue of the old battle injury...’

 ‘I’ll hold him down while you examine him,’ Elladan said, ever helpful.