Chapter 4 - Healing

"Merry? Merry? Can you hear me? It's Frodo... I need you to answer?"

Thick fog drifted lazily in Merry's vision, and he struggled to see the path ahead of him. He shuddered at what he had just experienced - and he had experienced it, hadn't he? It hadn't just been a particularly vivid pipeweed induced dream, had it? The sudden sharp pain that coursed up Merry's left leg seemed to confirm its reality. The fog was thinning slightly now and he was able to make out the silhouettes of his friends in the distance. One of them seemed to be calling to him, but his hearing must have been affected by the fog as well as his sight because he could not make out which of the hobbits it was.... possibly Frodo.

"Merry?"

The voice grew louder now and sounded to be anxious. Was something wrong? Perhaps they needed him: in which case he would go to them. Merry gritted his teeth against the growing pain - funny, he didn't remember how it came about - and ran to his friends.

"Merry?"

Frodo smiled as Merry reached him and hugged him tightly, the younger hobbit closing his eyes as he buried his face in the dark curls.

Merry's eyes fluttered open and he was greeted with three concerned faces leaning over him. His whole body ached horribly, but the pain seemed to be concentrated in one of his ankles... or was that both?

"Merry, look at me." Frodo called softly to his cousin, wanting to ensure that his head had taken no hurt.

Merry screwed up his eyes to clear his vision and then focused upon Frodo, the other two faces having retreated. Where Sam was, Merry did not know, but Pippin was sat by his side, stroking one of his hands with his two trembling own. Memories flooded back to Merry as though a wall had just been knocked down, and images of Pippin being tossed aside like a small hobbit's broken ragdoll filled his head.

"Pippin?!" he said urgently.

"Pippin is fine," said Frodo, wiping his forehead with a damp cloth. "He is shaken, but has taken no further hurts than a few cuts and bruises. He will recover fully when he sees that you are well, I am sure of that."

Merry pondered over Frodo's words and tried to remember how he himself had come to be injured. He could see himself freeing Pippin from the tangles of roots, but after that, his memories faded back into oblivion.

"Frodo," he managed weakly, the pain increasing more as he shifted his position on the soft bed of blankets he lay upon. "What happened?"

Frodo and Sam had fought hard against the tree, hacking at it as best they could with their hobbit strength, but still it had grasped firmly onto the unconscious hobbit, suspended several feet in the air. Pippin lay where he had landed, seemingly uninjured, but clearly shocked, and transfixed by the sight of Merry being dangled so.

When the tree had shown no sign of abating at the hobbits actions, they began to grow desperate. Emotions had started to take the place of rationality and Frodo had abandoned the knife to gather small sticks and twigs. He placed them in a haphazard manner about the base of the tree and Sam, having caught on to the new course of action, produced a small box of matches and a flask of cooking oil from his pack. They had stood facing the imposing being in front of them.

"Let him go." Frodo had said clearly and steadily to the malevolent tree, "Or we light the fire."

Whether or not the tree had genuinely been affected by this threat, or whether it had simply grown tired of the consequences of its bit of play, neither Frodo or Sam would ever find out, but the tree had lowered its flailing roots and dropped Merry to the ground.

"You were so brave, Frodo," said Merry as Sam returned and proceeded to tend to his hurts.

"We was only doin' what you yourself did, Mr Merry," said Sam.

"From the state of Pippin, we gather that you were something of the hero, dear cousin. Not that Pippin has spoken yet..."

Merry looked questioningly at the two hobbits, and then to Pippin, who was still at his side.

"We think that Pippin is a little overwhelmed, Merry. It is no surprise, given that he saw more than we did, and what we saw when we awoke was rather bewildering, not to mention frightening. He is a little shocked, but will no doubt be his usual, noisy self in a little while." Frodo smiled at Pippin, who seemed to have calmed somewhat since Merry had regained consciousness, and was rewarded with a small smile in return. "See... he's recovering already."

"Now about your hurts, Mr Merry."

"I think I've hurt my leg," said Merry, wincing as Sam rolled up the leg of his breeches.

"Well that's understandable, seein' as you were dangled by one ankle by an evil tree. You're mighty bruised an' a bit swollen, but there doesn't look to be anything broken." Sam finished his examination and rooted once again in his pack, grateful that he had had the foresight to include a meagre aid kit. He was no healer, but Bell had always made sure that her children never went unprepared for a situation like this.

"Owwww...." Merry moaned as Frodo and Sam between them splinted and bandaged the injured ankle.

"There," said Frodo, "You'll be right as rain in no time." he ruffled Merry's hair and then took his hand, helping him up.

"Come on Pip, you can let go now..." Pippin's hand remained tightly entwined with Merry's, his usually animated face pale and still.

Pippin lessened his grip somewhat, but did not disengage himself from his cousin.

"What happened to Pip's pack?" asked Merry, noting its absence.

"Once you had been freed, we picked up you and the packs and ran into another clearing - this time with nothing larger than a thorn bush surrounding us. It was only when we put everything down that we realised it was missing, but by then it was too dangerous to return."

"But what about his clothes? His food?"

"Don't you worry, Master Merry, we have more than enough clothes between us, an' we're stoppin' off in Bree so we can restock food shortly too. An' between you an' me," Sam lowered his voice to a whisper, "Most o' Pippin's stuff weren't in his pack - it was in his pockets, an' there it remains."

"But... but it was a tree!" said Pippin, breaking his uncharacteristic silence several hours after the incident occurred, "Trees aren't supposed to do that."

"Well there's trees an' there's trees," said Sam, letting Merry rest his weight on him as they continued through the forest, "An' that weren't no tree as I'd reckon."

"I remember Ma telling me about tree shepherds once, but she said that they look after the forest and everything in it..." Merry's face contorted in pain once again as he slipped on a protruding tree root.

"I think trees are like hobbits," said Frodo, trying to shed some light on a subject he really knew very little about.

"Beggin' your pardon, Mr Frodo, but I don't see any hobbits tryin' to strangle another hobbit for singin'."

"Yes, but... well, most hobbits are friendly and get on well with other hobbits, but all hobbits are different and some aren't so friendly. Then you get hobbits, much like my own very dear relatives, the Sackville Bagginses, who will go out of their way to cause others misery. So perhaps some of the tree shepherds are like that as well."

Merry, Pippin and Sam considered Frodo's point in silence as they moved slowly onwards. A sight in the distance stopped them abruptly.

"Is that...?"

"Could it be...?"

"But that would mean....."

"Sunlight." Frodo pronounced emphatically, a grin spreading on his face.