Caution: Cliffhanger ahead. If you are horrified by such, please refrain from reading until Chapter 17 is added. This chapter split itself, for reasons of length, and there's no time to type in more at the moment. Those who thrive on cliffhangers, however, are welcome to read on and "enjoy".

Technical Note: Immersing a patient with a high fever in cold water is not recommended.

Chapter 16. Drowning in Fire

The ring of watchers relaxed slowly, maintaining a loose grip, though Pippin had not moved in several moments. Quiet he lay, though not peaceful, his head thrown back until the cords stood out in his neck, his harsh gasps filling the silent room.

Ossilan raised his head from his examination. ‘He cannot continue thus,’ he said to the Master, as though there might be any question about the matter. ‘It’s dangerous, but we have got to get his temperature down.’

 ‘What is the danger?’ Saradoc said quietly, his arm tightening around his wife.

 ‘What will you do?’ Merry asked at the same time. He thought of Faramir, dying of fever during the battle for Minas Tirith, and athelas... but of course there was no hope for a miracle. Not this time. The King was far away, in Gondor.

 ‘Immerse him in cool water,’ Ossilan said.

 ‘You’ve done that,’ Merry said. ‘It made little difference... simply brought his temperature down a little before it climbed again.’

 ‘It gave him ease,’ Ossilan said. ‘Allowed him to gather strength to fight on. This fever has nearly run its course, if the others I’ve treated are any indication. But we have to bring him through to the end, and at the moment it’s burning him up.’

 ‘Burning,’ Pippin murmured, as if in agreement. The watchers cautiously tightened their hold, but he did not move.

 ‘Then what is the danger...?’ Saradoc said.

 ‘His fever is much higher than it was,’ Ossilan said. ‘The shock of the cool water could stop his heart.’

 ‘Start with warmer water,’ Esmeralda urged. ‘Allow it to cool gradually...’

 ‘I don’t think he has the luxury of time, Mistress,’ Ossilan said gravely.

 ‘Dunk him in the River if you have to,’ Merry said. ‘You’ve said his heart will fail, or burst, if the delirium continues so violent... as it has.’

 ‘The water I intend will be nearly so cold, young master,’ Ossilan said. ‘However I have no intention of drowning the lad, if I can help it.’

 ‘What are we waiting for?’ Merry said.

 ‘Merry, beloved,’ Estella said, laying a hand on his arm.

He turned to her, anger and loss clear on his face. ‘Ossilan says he’ll die anyhow, if this goes on,’ he said. ‘At least it’s a chance, my love.’

 ‘Very well,’ Saradoc said. ‘Make the arrangements.’

 ‘The large bath in the Master’s suite...’ Ossilan began.

 ‘Go ahead,’ Saradoc said at once. ‘We’ll bring him there.’

Ossilan nodded, and then he was gone.

Pippin realised slowly that he had been confused; it was not Faramir on the bed, being borne along, but himself. Yes, he could definitely feel the motion, slow and careful, so as not to trouble one so fevered.

He opened his eyes, to see Ferdibrand looking down at him, walking along, guiding the litter.

 ‘Hullo there, cousin,’ Ferdi greeted him cheerily. ‘Thought you’d slipped the escort, did you? Well, I’m wise to your tricks. You won’t escape me so easily this time.’

 ‘Ferdi,’ Pippin tried to say, but though his lips moved he was still unable to make a sound.

Ferdibrand patted him on the shoulder. ‘All is well, Pippin,’ he said. ‘Don’t worry about a thing.’

Pippin had thought it was Denethor following the litter, but as he blinked to clear his vision, he realised that it was his own father and not Faramir’s that he saw. Paladin seemed much older than the last time Pippin had seen him, diminished, somehow, pressed down by the weight of his duties, perhaps.

Now Merry stepped forward, taking Pippin’s hand. ‘You cannot do this,’ he said.

 ‘On the contrary,’ Ferdi said. ‘We must! The Thain has ordered it!’ He looked to Pippin, adding, ‘I’m sorry, cousin, but you know I’ve always been one to do my duty.’

 ‘Hold!’ Merry said, but those bearing the litter did not stop or even slow their steady progress.

 ‘He’s burning,’ Paladin muttered. ‘Already burning.’ Merry’s hand closed tighter around Pippin’s.

 ‘Do not take my son from me,’ Paladin said sharply.

 ‘Da,’ Pippin whispered.

Paladin started as one waking from a trance, and the flame died from his eyes, and he wept, saying in a voice strangely like Denethor’s, ‘He calls for me!’

 ‘And you shall have your way in this, at least, Thain,’ Ferdi said. ‘At last your son shall follow the path of your choosing.’

 ‘He will not wake again,’ Paladin said. ‘He’s burning; we shall burn together, my son and I. All is dust and ashes.’

 ‘All is ready for the bonfire, Sir,’ one of the other hobbits said. ‘We need only to lie him down, and yourself beside him if you wish, and thrust in the torch.’

The litter’s motion slowed, and then stopped, and Pippin was lowered gently to the floor. It seemed to Pippin that he was lifted from the litter and laid upon icy stone that rose up to encompass him; even so he could feel the flames rising, hear the crackle of the fire...

***

As they left the room, Diamond fell in beside Merry, who held Pippin’s hand. ‘You ought not to be here,’ he said.

 ‘I’ve been standing outside,’ she said. ‘A body can bake only so much seedcake to while away the hours.’ Merry looked at her oddly, but she continued to speak. ‘Ossilan said either the fever would break, or he’d not last the night... it’s nearly dawn. Which way has it turned?’

 ‘Estella,’ Merry said, and Estella took Diamond’s arm.

 ‘Let me walk with him,’ Diamond said. ‘If these are his last hours, let me be by his side.’ She raised her voice slightly to say, ‘Pippin-love, I’m here.’

 ‘You cannot do this,’ Merry said.

 ‘I am doing this,’ Diamond countered with a cool look. ‘You go ahead, hold his hand for me, and I’ll hold your other hand, and somehow may he feel my love moving from me to him through you.’

 ‘Hold...’ Merry said, flabbergasted, but Estella nodded.

 ‘You do that,’ she said firmly, and scooting around the litter bearers she took up Pippin’s other hand. ‘Diamond’s here, cousin,’ she said. ‘She’s here with you now, do you know?’

 ‘Da...’ Pippin whispered.

Estella whispered and soothed, but he did not seem to hear her. They turned into the Master’s suite and on through to the bath room where a freshly-kindled fire crackled on the hearth and the tub of cold water stood waiting. The watchers laid the litter carefully on the floor and unwrapped Pippin from the blankets, disrobed him, and lifted him up and over the tub, easing him into the water.

He stiffened as he was immersed, nearly drowning himself as he threw his head back, and his body shook in a mighty convulsion as Merry called his name.

 ‘What is it, Ossilan?’ Saradoc demanded.

Diamond, held in Estella’s firm grip, started forward, her face white.

The old healer bent over Pippin, and time seemed to stand still. At last he whispered, ‘I cannot feel his heart beating...’

 ‘No!’ Merry cried, falling to his knees beside the tub. Diamond would have crumpled as well, but Estella held her up.

 ‘Pippin,’ Diamond sobbed. ‘Please, no...’