Chapter 21. The King Takes a Hand

'Athelas, Berioron,' Elessar said, and the healer looked up and nodded.

'Yes, my Lord,' he said, and then looked down again, probing a last time along Will's jaw line. 'I think even ice would be of limited virtue by this time. It might slow the swelling, but much damage has already been done. He's getting very little air at the moment...' He rose abruptly and hurried from the room, just as Pippin entered, Sam directly behind him.

Elessar knelt down beside the bed, laying one hand lightly on the injured man's forehead, closed his eyes, and seemed to listen, to more than just the hard-won breaths.

At last he opened his eyes, looked up, and said, 'What is his name?'

'Gwillam,' Seledrith said in surprise, but at the same time Robin answered.

'Will. Our mother called him Will.'

And Seledrith bowed her head, and set her lips in a thin line, reminded once more that Gwillam was not who she had thought.

The King spoke the name softly, taking up Will's hand while his other palm rested on Will's forehead. He closed his eyes and spoke the name again, and frowned.

'What is it, Elessar?' Pippin said, starting forward.

'It is as if there is a veil between us,' the King said. 'I do not know...' He did not want to speak his concern before Will's loved ones, that if the man had been robbed of too much breath during the hanging, or after, that he might waken witless, or might never waken at all. It would only add agony to their waiting. He could perceive the living essence that was Will, but he could not reach through the mist that shrouded the man's thoughts, his self, almost as if he were heavily drugged, or like a drowned man too late revived, had lost some essential part of himself.

He laid down Will's hand on the coverlet, rose, and went to the old man. Robin stood over his father protectively, but the King smiled. 'Your father is safe,' he said.

Robin hovered a moment, and then stepped back, but when he would have bowed to the King, Elessar stopped him. 'I am only a healer at the moment,' he said. 'No need to stand on ceremony; it is a dreadful encumbrance.'

Elessar bent over the bed, and Pippin moved to the old man's other side, taking up one of the hands, his eyes on the face of the King. Once more, Elessar laid a gentle hand on a forehead and seemed to listen deeply. 'There is pain here,' he said, 'grief, and sorrow; fear, and old echoes of regret.'

'I am an old fool,' the old man whispered without opening his eyes. 'An old fool, and Will has paid for my foolishness.' His voice broke, and he sobbed. 'My lad...'

'He lives,' the King said softly, 'and all may not yet be lost.' But the old man turned his head away, and Robin stood as one turned to stone.

Healer Berioron returned in that moment with a basin of steaming water; an assistant, panting and out of breath, came behind him with a pair of long, dark leaves in her hand. 'Culled fresh just now in the herb garden,' the healer said.

'My thanks,' the King said to the assistant, and he took the leaves and bruised them, and a fresh and pungent scent arose in the room, and Elessar cast the leaves into the steaming water. All in the room straightened as the living scent filled the room, even the assistant healer, who seemed to find her second wind and, no longer breathless, smiled.

The old man took a deep breath, and another, and opening his eyes, he said, 'But how do I come to be in the Shire, and in the springtime?' And he gazed in wonder at the hobbit standing beside the bed. 'Pippin?' he said. 'Is it you?'

'It is,' the hobbit affirmed, squeezing the hand he held. 'And you are Gwill, or perhaps you would prefer "Jack"? But I knew you long ago as "Robin".'

'Long ago,' the old man agreed, and then he sat up, or at least he tried to, and Robin jumped to help him.

'Steady, Father,' the youth said.

'Rob,' the old man said, throwing his arms around Robin. He looked then to the King and said, 'He is safe? Truly?'

'As soon as I am finished here, I will sign your pardon,' Elessar said, as he soaked a cloth in the athelas-steeped water and laid it carefully on Will's throat. 'I have already torn the death warrant asunder, and ordered its burning by the hand of the Steward himself.'

'My thanks, my Lord,' the old man said, but his voice quavered as he looked to Will. 'My poor lad,' he whispered.

'In depths of night, all hope is gone,' the King quoted, 'but to return with light of dawn.' He laid another soaked cloth, and rested his hand again on Will's forehead. 'Sometimes we may find comfort and truth in the words of an old song.'

'Just like the hands of the King are healing hands,' Pippin said. 'I don't know how many times I heard that one sung after the Coronation.'

Elessar smiled, but his hand did not move from Will's forehead, nor did he show his perturbation at what he felt there.

***

Turamir and Targil returned to the greengrocer's shop after seeing to the comfort of the carthorse. It would be a short night, this night, and all too soon it would be time to hitch up the wains and drive out into the fading night, that by the time the sun peeked over the horizon they could be on their way back to the City with greenstuffs for the day's market. Just because disaster had struck their family, that didn't mean that the people of Annuminas would refrain from eating!

Airin was not in the kitchen, waiting for them, but then she'd have little reason to be waiting, after hearing the news from Eliniel when she'd come to fetch baby Robin. Turamir sent his brother off to bed and then took a turn about the building, making sure that all the lamps were blown out and all the fires banked. He found his wife at last, curled up with their oldest, both asleep, and no wonder. Mornings came early; for the greengrocer's family the day started halfway between middle night and dawning.

Turamir laid himself down beside Airin, pressing close and easing one arm over her, taking comfort in her warmth, and between one breath and the next he too was asleep.