Comfort

Gandalf walked over and sat on the stone floor beside the bulge in the curtains that was Pippin. The young hobbit was quite worked up now, keening and gasping whilst battling the curtain that was enshrouding him. It took some doing to get Pippin freed then the wizard pulled the panicked lad onto his lap, hugging him gently to his chest; being careful not to cover the his face.

“Can’t-can’t see. Can’t breathe. Ca-can’t . . . see. C-can’t breath . . . Can-can’t . . .” Pippin kept gasping out.

“If you cannot see, Peregrin Took, it is because your eyes are closed.”

The deep gentle voice vibrated against Pippin’s body, it sifted through his distraught mind to gain his attention. He slowly opened his eyes and was surprised to see a room instead of a battlefield. He was being held, or more precisely cradled, in some big person’s arms. He looked up.

“Gandalf?” he whispered.

“Yes, my lad. And you are most definitely breathing, so you needn’t fear on that account either. In fact, I would say you are more in danger of making yourself swoon from breathing in pants and gasps. Take a deep breath, Peregrin. There’s a good lad.”

Pippin mechanically did as he was told, his eyes never leaving those of the wizard.

“I . . . I,” Pippin swallowed hard before he went on. “I thought I was under the . . . under the troll again. It was all dark and . . . and the air was hea . . .”

Gandalf saw the blank look come over the youngsters eyes. His thumb and first two fingers of his right hand toyed absently with his scarf. The blank spell only lasted a few moments, then Pippin’s earlier panic returned to his green eyes.

“The air was heavy and I felt I couldn’t breathe.” Pippin closed his eyes. His breathing was changing from frightened gasping to sobs. “Little matter, really. Little matter when it’s all said and done. She . . . she said it wouldn’t . . . wouldn’t matter as much if I was loved. B-but now? All changed. I-it’s a-all changed n-now. I’m too . . . broken . . . too broken, a-and t-they are a-all upset w-with me.”

This, Gandalf felt, was what had been needing to happen for quite awhile; it was about time that Pippin talked about everything that was happening to him.

“Who told you that, Peregrin? One of the women who help here at the Houses of Healing? Or was it one of the matrons who tend to our house for us?”

“ ‘Twas a little girl . . . and, and her dolly. Eh . . . Feva and . . .eh . . . um, Mallefinnros. But it . . . no longer matters, as I . . . I’m worse. Too much . . . worse now,” Pippin sadly sobbed. “They are all u-upset w-with me . . . and I-I’ll have to . . . have to be shut away.”

The last was a whisper, as one might speak a secret. Gandalf felt Pippin’s muscles tightening up. He could hear the panic creeping back into the lad’s voice. Yet, it wasn’t a child’s panic. There is a difference in the fear of a child and the fear of an adult. Pippin had matured a great deal in the last months and it showed. This was no child the wizard held in his lap.

“No, Pippin. You will not be shut away,” Gandalf said with a quiet calm.

Pippin twitched against the wizard before turning his puffy, tear-streaked face upwards.

“Not shut away?” He sniffed loudly before continuing. “But, but Merry said . . .”

“Yes, Merry said you had a fit like what you and he witnessed your cousin having, and indeed you did. But this is not the Shire, Peregrin Took. Merry spoke too soon. Your king had things he wished to say to you which went unsaid. Aragorn has assured us all that there are things the healers of Gondor can do to help you. And forget not, young hobbit, that the King of Gondor learned his healing from Lord Elrond. Middle-earth knows none more skilled in the healing art than Elrond.”

Pippin sat up straighter, an encouraged gleam in his eyes. “He can help me?” he asked, before wiping his nose on the sleeve of his nightshirt. “Then I’ll be well! I’ll have only my leg, which really is getting much better, and my arm and hand to manage.”

Gandalf hated to burst the lad’s bubble of hope. “I said help, Peregrin, not cure. There is no cure for the falling sickness.”

The bubble burst and the lad sagged back against the wizard’s chest.

“No cure,” Pippin sighed. “Then they will shut me away.” The panic began to creep back into his voice, along with despair. “I’ll go mad, Gandalf. I’ll go mad. I won’t be able . . . I can’t . . . I have to be able to get out. I-I have t-to be able t-to see my . . . my friends, Gandalf. I’ll go mad, I t-tell you.”

Pippin burrowed tightly against the wizard.

“What friends?” he moaned. “I’ve g-got them all . . .”

Pippin’s voice faded off. Gandalf could feel his fingers fumbling about with his scarf once more. A few moment’s passed.

“They are all angry with me, G-Gandalf. I-I’m sure . . . sure they d-don’t w-want me any longer.”

Gandalf gently stroked the youngster’s golden-brown curls, hugging Pippin’s head to his chest; remembering to not cover his face with his sleeve lest he start to feel buried again. “If you are meaning your two cousins and Samwise, then you are quite mistaken. They were here just before I pulled you out from amongst the curtains. I sent them back to the house, though I dare say they only went as far as the garden just a few paces away from the door to this room. Whatever frustration they were feeling toward you vanished when they realized what has been happening. They had only the faintest notion that you had anything seriously wrong with you, Peregrin. As soon as they knew you had not been responsible for your recent behaviour all their irritation vanished. Well, except that which they felt toward themselves.”

“I’ll still get shut away,” came a muffled reply.

“Aragorn has promised the others that you will not be shut away, Peregrin Took. Neither while you are here, nor when you return to the Shire.”

Pippin looked up in surprise. “But how? If there is no cure for me, then . . . How?”

“Well, I am no healer, so I will not presume to be able to explain any of that to you. I do think a great deal of it will depend upon what the girl and her doll said to you. What were their names?”

Pippin looked away a moment. He looked back at Gandalf as he said, “Mallefinnros and Feva. What do you mean, it will depend on what they said?”

The old wizard smiled. “Your learning that it doesn’t matter as much if you have hurts and ailments or even disfigurements. If you are loved it is not as hard for you or for those around you. Oh,” he said before his words could be taken wrongly, “don’t you think for a moment that means it will all be easy, Peregrin Took. There will always be folk who don’t understand, don’t even care to try to understand. There will always be those who will turn away from you, those who will mock you and those who will take a stand against you. There will always be things you find you cannot do. But when you have friends and family close to your heart who believe in you, who never forget your worth as a person and help you to not forget it either, it will be bearable.”

Pippin nodded slowly. Gandalf felt him relax.

“Which brings me back to wondering just how much better Strider will be able to make me.”

Gandalf laughed and hugged Pippin, who laid his head back against the wizard’s chest and sighed.

“And I will say again, Peregrin Took, Knight of Gondor and Guard of the Citadel, that you will need to ask your liege and healer about that.”

Pippin huffed. “Oh yes! Grand knight and guard I am, sitting on someone’s lap getting cuddled. I should be in my bed at the very least.”

He looked up, concern creasing his forehead.

“I’ve not put your legs to sleep, have I, Gandalf?”

Gandalf smiled. “No, my lad, you have not. And as to being cuddled . . . say comforted instead if you are concerned with the matter.” His look became sad, his voice full of memories. “I have seen men comforted in like manner by those who care for them many a time in my long years in Middle-earth. Men of Gondor, Rohan, Dol Amroth and other places you may have heard of, and many realms that are no longer. A hurt and frightened person is a hurt and frightened person whether they are large or small.”

He smiled again. A loving smile matched with eyes that sparkled with affection.

“I have not for one moment felt I have been sitting here cuddling a child. No, Peregrin Took. I have been giving comfort to a hurting soldier; to a mature hobbit who has just cause for his fears and concerns.”

At first, the hobbit’s eyes were surprised, then they filled with a goodly pride.

“Well then,” Pippin said, settling back into the folds of Gandalf’s cloak with a contented sigh. “I am quite comfortable here, and if I’ve not put your legs to sleep and if you do not object to sitting here awhile longer, I would like to stay where I am. I shall have a talk with Strider in the morning.”

“I do not object in the least, Pippin my lad.”

Soon, both hobbit and wizard were asleep.

A while later, the door slowly opened and three heads poked around the edge of it to look into the room.

“Looks as though Mr. Gandalf did just fine,” Sam grinned and whispered.

“It does indeed,” Frodo said as he pushed the door open the rest of the way so he, Sam and Merry could enter the room. They stood over the pair on the floor and smiled.

“Pip’s grinning in his sleep,” Merry sighed, obviously pleased with the sight. “They must have had a good talk.”

“We did,” Gandalf said.

The three hobbits jumped at his voice.

“A very good talk indeed. Your cousin asked me earlier if he had put my legs to sleep. He hadn’t then but they are now. Might you be able to carry him to the bed?”

Merry and Sam took Pippin from Gandalf’s lap, try hard to stifle chuckles as they did so. There was something quite funny about Pip having put the large wizard’s legs to sleep. Frodo had quickly straightened up the bedding and soon Pippin was nicely tucked into his bed.
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The first thing Pippin was aware of was the enticing scent of food. He decided it smelled good enough to make it worth opening his eyes. He was laying on his side and immediately in front of him was someone’s thigh, hip, rear and an arm. Someone was sitting up in bed beside him. Pippin’s eyes followed the arm upwards.

“Merry,” he mumbled sleepily.

“Pip! Are you awake or just muttering in your sleep?”

“Wakin’. Groggy yet. D’ I smell breakfast?”

“Second breakfast, actually,” Merry chuckled as he replied. “It just walked in the door.”

“All by itself?” Pippin was waking up.

“Oh yes! They’ve trays here that move all on their own. Though the aids and servants are rather put out about it as they are out of a job now.”

“We are not, you naughty lad,” Ioreth scolded before laughing heartily. “You are a terrible tease, Sir Merry. No, Sir Pippin, the trays don’t come walking in on their own.” She set the tray on the table then came over to the side of the bed. With her hand planted squarely in the middle of his chest, she pushed Merry back into the pillows he was leaning against. “Excuse me, Sir Merry. I must check on young Sir Pippin and you are in the way.” She winked at the latter who was now fully awake and enjoying her banter.

“Yes, I am the important one here, Merry old lad. You really oughtn’t get in the way, you know.”

Merry sighed dramatically. “All right. I’ll move.” He sighed again then laughed. “Shall I make up a plate for his lordship, Ioreth?”

The pleasant healer’s aid giggled. “His lordship would like that, I’m sure. Get up, young sir,” she ordered Pippin. “You’re not incapable of getting yourself up and to the privy. I’ve been told you’re to tend to your own needs and so you shall. I’ll have your bed freshened up for you when you return.”

Pippin eased himself off the bed and shuffled off in the direction of the privy.

“Pick your feet up, Pippin!” Frodo called after him, his grin showing in his voice. “Bilbo walks better than that and you are nowhere near his age.”

“Not quite . . .” Pippin interrupted himself by yawning and stretching. “Oh,” he breathed out. “Not quite awake yet, cousin.”

When he returned to the room, Pippin marched in; posture straight and knees brought up high. He got to the side of the bed, made two more steps in place, then turned sharply so his back was to the bed. He gave a small jump to land on his rump on the bed, then quickly situated himself around so he was leaning back against the pillows Ioreth had plumped up for him.

“Where’s my breakfast, Merry?” he asked with an oversized smile on his face.

“Oh no you don’t!” Ioreth cut infront of Merry, easily taking the tray from him. “That is my job since they don’t move about on their own.” She winked at Merry. Turning around, she set the tray over Pippin’s lap then gave him a small curtsy. “Your breakfast, Sir Peregrin. I’ll be back in a while to take the plates and such away,” she said to all of them as she left, shutting the door behind her.

The hobbits all set to eating their breakfast, or second breakfast as may be. A short time passed then Pippin began to feel as though something was wrong, as though everyone was suddenly uncomfortable. He looked up to see the others were watching him. He felt sad and disappointed.

He looked down at his food which he had been awkwardly eating using his left hand. “Waiting for me to make a mess?” he asked without looking up. “Or to have a fit and fling everything about?”

The hurt in his voice cut into the others.

“No!”

“Of course not!”

“Oh, Pippin.”

They all spoke at once followed by an awkward pause.

“We were all trying to tell how upset you were with us.”

Pippin looked up at Frodo.

“Upset with you?”

“We had all got rather put out with you and we know you knew it. We . . . well, we didn’t know there was a reason for it all. None of us spoke to you about it, nor to anyone else.” Frodo’s face reddened. “We made a mess of things and we are hoping you aren’t too put out with us now, though we deserve it if you are.”

Pippin looked at his dearest cousins and his dearest friend while they looked anxiously back at him. He could see the care and concern in their eyes. Pippin’s lips turned up in a soft little smile. Gandalf was right, they still loved and cared for him.

“Yes, you hurt me. I could tell everyone was upset with me and I really didn’t understand why. Well, that’s not quite right either. I knew I was forgetting things, knocking things over, spilling things . . .” Pippin paused and looked at Merry, “pouring hot tea on people. How is your hand, Merry? Is it better?”

Merry smiled. He held his hand up for Pippin to see. “It’s fine, Pip. It’s just fine.”

“Good!” Pippin smiled back at Merry briefly, then continued. “As I was saying, I knew all those things had happened but I didn’t really remember doing them, just that all of a sudden there was a mess and someone was upset with me.” The lad paused again, looking down at his weak right hand where it was resting on the tray. He flexed his first two fingers and thumb as best he could. “Did I have a fit each of those times? Is that why I didn’t remember causing the messes?”

“No, Mis . . . no Pippin,” Sam quickly replied. “We would have said somethin’, done somethin’ if it had been like that. Although Strider says that what was happenin’ is part of what brings on the fits. I don’t quite understand it all, but he was callin’ ‘em ‘blank spells’.”

“Blank spells?”

“It’s like you’re sleep walking or something.” Merry said. “I hate to mention another one of our cousins,” Merry looked uncomfortable but hurried on. “You know, like Doderic used to do. Remember those few times that he sat there in bed and had short conversations with us but wasn’t really awake? And how he once walked all the way into Bucklebury in his nightshirt? Folks thought he was a ghost because he didn’t answer when they spoke to him.”

Pippin was nodding.

“Like that, Pippin. It’s sort of like that. Sometimes you stop everything. Sometimes you keep moving but you don’t know what you’re doing. And your eyes go all empty as well.” The memory of Pippin’s empty eyes after he had looked into the palantir came into Merry’s mind. It was that exact same look, but he wasn’t going to say that to his cousin. Maybe some day, but not this day. It would most likely trouble Pip and he had been troubled enough.

“It only lasts a few moments though,” Frodo was adding.

Pippin nodded a few moments longer. “I see,” he said. “That does make things a lot clearer. No wonder you were all getting irritated with me and, if that is what the “blank spells” are like, no wonder I didn’t understand what I had done.”

Pippin smiled his most charming smile. The one that so often enabled him to get his own way; and bluff his way through things. He did understand and he did forgive them, gladly. But the memory of his cousin Bandy still clung to his thoughts. He was still frightened of what life was going to hold for him.

“Well, that explains it all nicely and I forgive you all. Not much to forgive, really. I would have been angry as well had I been you and any of you had been me.”

Sam, Frodo and Merry all shared a quick, knowing look. Pippin was sounding very much his old self.

“So,” Pippin said, still smiling broadly. “What happens now?”

As if in answer to his question, the door opened. Strider and Parsow came in together. The young healer was carrying a bottle in one hand and a cup in the other.