Chapter 6. (Not) Getting Up

'When can I get up?' Pippin demanded.

Merry stared at him in astonishment. 'You're propped up to breathe, can barely lift a hand, and you want to get up?'

'I'm getting better,' Pippin maintained. He tried to sit up, only to fall back against the pillows, white and gasping.

'There now, let that be a lesson to you,' Merry said. 'You're weak as a kitten and twice the trouble.' He filled the mug with fresh water and held it to his cousin's lips, taking care that he tilted it just enough for a sip and no more.

'I hate to lie abed,' his cousin complained, then looked up.

'Hullo, Targon.'

Merry turned to acknowledge the grizzled guardsman.

'I'm on the duty roster to take a watch,' Targon said. 'You're to report to Lord Aragorn. He's with the Ring-bearers.'

'All right. Make sure he stays in the bed.' The guardsman raised an eyebrow as Merry turned to Pippin. 'Did you hear me? Stay in bed!'

Targon looked in surprise at the hobbit in the bed, who seemed to be drifting off to sleep.

'Don't take your eyes off him,' Merry warned. 'He'll be twice as much trouble when he wakes, all refreshed and ready to go.'

'Aye, lad, don't you worry. I've fought enough battles in my time, I can manage one small soldier.'

'I wouldn't be too sure,' Merry said, and with a last look at his sleeping cousin he turned on his heel and left the grove.

***

Aragorn met Merry at the entrance to the grove that housed Frodo and Sam.

'Yes? What is it?' Merry asked him.

'I'd like you to sit with Frodo and Sam today. Are you up to it?' Aragorn reached out a palm and Merry reluctantly put his right hand into it. The Ranger frowned. 'Still cool.'

Merry pulled his hand back. 'I'm fine.' He walked past Aragorn into the grove, forcing the Man to follow him. He saw that Sam still held Frodo's hand.

Aragorn noticed the direction of his gaze. 'I've told the healers to make sure their hands are joined if they have to be separated while being cared for. It seems to give them ease.' Merry nodded, not surprised. He noticed that a low stool had been set between the beds, and sank onto it.

Meeting Aragorn's concerned look, he admitted, 'I'm tired. It's taken all my energy this morning to keep Pippin abed. And it's only going to get worse as he feels better.'

Aragorn nodded. 'I'll go and have a word with him.'

Merry smiled at his retreating back. It was going to take more than a word.

Merry reached out his left hand, laying it atop the other two hobbits' joined hands. He began to talk in a low voice, telling one of Bilbo's old stories, as the healers worked quietly around him.

***

The next day, Pippin could wield his own spoon, feeding himself a few bites before laying the spoon aside in exhausted triumph.

'See? I am getting better,' he told his cousin. 'When can I get up?'

'What's this I hear about you trying to get out of bed?' Beregond asked from behind Merry. 'Don't you know you're under orders? I could have you horsewhipped.'

'I'd like to see you try!'

'I could do it with one hand tied behind my back,' Beregond answered.

Pippin eyed the arm bound to the guardsman's side, and the sling supporting Beregond’s wrist. 'You'd have to,' he said cheerily.

Beregond stared down at him sternly, but could not keep his face straight. Breaking into a grin, he said, 'You watch yourself, Master Perian. If I have to, I'll sit on you.'

'And that's supposed to scare me?' Pippin returned. 'I'll have you know I've been sat upon by a troll, no less.'

Merry laughed, and Beregond put his good hand on the hobbit's shoulder. 'Lord Aragorn has requested that you attend the Ring-bearers again,' he said. Shooting a glance at Pippin, he added, 'Looks as if you could use the rest.'

'Hah!' said Pippin. 'And when do I get to see Frodo and Sam?'

'They're busy,' Merry replied.

'Busy doing what?' Pippin asked.

Growing new skin and new hair to replace what was singed away, Merry thought to himself, but aloud he said, 'They're sleeping,' and he added, 'With all your energy you'd wake them up.' He rose, shaking his head. 'Sit on him, if you have to, Beregond. Or tell him stories. That's what we used to have to do, to keep him abed.' He thought about the serious illness that had ensued after Pippin's dunking in the icy cold Brandywine, and how they had finally let him out of bed a week before they'd meant to.

Aragorn was waiting outside Frodo and Sam's grove. He greeted Merry and held out his hands for the inevitable examination. The Ranger nodded in satisfaction. 'Good, your hand is warmer today. You've been resting?'

Merry laughed, and at Aragorn's quizzical look he answered, 'You can hardly call it that. I've spent the morning trying to keep Pippin in bed. He's already forgotten the little talk you had with him.'

Aragorn shook his head in mock despair. 'What are we going to do with him?'

'Put your best storytellers on the job,' Merry suggested. 'If they can keep him distracted long enough...'

'If he'd just put the energy into healing that he puts into bedevilling he could be up in a week or a few days more,' Aragorn said. He released Merry's right hand but retained the left, examining it closely.

'What is it?' Merry asked curiously.

'The healers say that Frodo and Sam were calmer, more peaceful, the entire time you sat with them yesterday. They say the hands of the King are the hands of a healer...' he looked back down at Merry's hand. 'So what is so special about hobbit hands?'

Merry laughed. 'That's how it's always been done in the Shire,' he said cheerfully. 'You get someone bad sick in bed, you hold their hand and talk at them until they get well just to have some peace and quiet again.'

Aragorn released his hand. 'Well, I want you to try it again today. They are much improved from yesterday's badgering.'

As Merry entered the grove, he wondered how the healers could tell. The two shrouded forms looked about the same to his eyes. Still, he placed his hand atop the joined hands and began to tell about the adventure of Uncle Ferdinand's wooden teeth. Though the quiet figures gave no sign of hearing, several of the healers chuckled at the end of the story, and thus encouraged, Merry launched into another.

***
A/N The phrase "bad sick" is a nod to Baylor's excellent stories, "Handkerchiefs and Mushroom Soup" and "I Always Know You", some of the first fanfic I ever read.