Chapter 15. With the Brightening Morn

Eglantine lay staring into the pre-dawn darkness for some moments after Paladin tenderly tucked her up, smoothed the coverlet over her, brushed a kiss over her bound-up hand, and finished with a lingering hand on her forehead, a whispered blessing, which she managed not to spoil with a demand to be wakened when the milking was done. It took an effort to hold her tongue, but Paladin's step seemed lighter after he rose from the bed again, and she was contented with that, even while privately resolving that she'd wait until she heard the door of the smial close, and then rise to stir up some breakfast.

...only to start up in wonder at seeing the bright sunlight streaming in at the window.

It was morning light, at least, she determined as she rose from the bed. She breathed a sigh of relief at being spared the trial of sleeping into the afternoon. How would she ever catch up, if that had been the case? Ah, well, better not to borrow trouble.

Her hand was better already, she thought, halfway to healing, though she wouldn't be putting it in warm water for a day or two yet. The lasses would have to manage the washing up, and perhaps the laundering.

The smial was silent, and Eglantine felt the urge to tiptoe, for some reason, as she made her way from the bedroom. A peek into her daughters' room showed Vinca, curled under her covers, but Nell was not there. Ah, Nell sat by Ferdi in the next room, Pippin's, and Mardi dozed in the chair next to the bed where Tolly lay. Ferdi and Tolly lay silent and unmoving, except for the steady rise and fall of their coverlets. They looked better to Eglantine's searching gaze, more natural somehow than they had a few hours ago.

Nell looked up as Eglantine hovered in the doorway. Eglantine mimed lifting a teacup for a drink, and Nell nodded. Eglantine withdrew, and still on tiptoe, made her way to the deserted kitchen.

The table was scrubbed and empty except for the large basket of eggs perched in the centre, the benches and chairs shoved neatly under, and the floor looked freshly swept. Dishes, mugs, knives and spoons lay stacked ready for washing, so the hired hobbits had eaten, she was glad to surmise. It was but a moment's work to add a few sticks to the fire and move the teakettle, full and waiting to be pressed into service, over the freshening flames.

While waiting for the water to heat (a watched pot, as everyone knows...), she busied herself slicing bread and cheese – yes, her burned hand was managing quite nicely – and put together a tray with the bread and cheese, butter and a pot of jam. She was able to carry this bounty without much trouble, but Pimpernel still jumped up from her chair to fuss, protesting in an undertone. 'Oh, Mum! I'm that sorry, I didn't think...!'

'It's no trouble,' Eglantine began, but Pimpernel quickly divested the tray of the plates and food anyhow, and laid these on the chest of drawers. Taking the empty tray from Eglantine, she then insisted that her mother sit down in the empty chair by the bed. 'If you'd just watch over Ferdi, Mum, I'll have the tea ready in two shakes...'

'Three shakes would be fine,' Eglantine said, resigned to her rest, but smiling for her daughter's sake. Nell nodded and, with a last look to Ferdi's face, was gone.

Their soft tones, of a wonder, did not rouse any of the sleepers, not even the healer, and in the quiet Eglantine was able to hear the soft sounds from the kitchen. Tink, that was Nell taking the top from the teapot, and then there was the sound of water pouring – Nell warming the pot. Eglantine followed the sounds of tea-making and tray-loading, and when Nell entered the room with her loaded tray, Eglantine greeted her with a bright smile. 'Quickly done, lass!'

Mardi jerked awake at this soft greeting. 'Er.. umph...? Ah, yes, Nell...' His eyes brightened at the sight of the cosied pot, and he rose at once to take the tray. 'Lovely! Just what the healer ordered! ...or would have, if he hadn't fallen asleep at his post...'

'Ah, Mardi,' Eglantine soothed. 'Even a healer must sleep. Sometime, or another,' she added, holding up her hand in answer to his wry expression.

He had laid down the tray and was pouring out cups of tea, but at the sight of her bound-up hand he put down the pot, all healer once more. 'Now, Missus,' he said. 'What mischief have you done yourself?'

'Naught but that a bit of rest won't remedy,' Eglantine said to forestall him, but she might as well have saved her breath. He undid the cloth and took her hand in his, as gently as he might have held a butterfly, delicately examining all sides.

'Nasty burn, it was,' came his opinion at last, 'but healing nicely.'

Eglantine thanked him, for he was only doing what came as naturally to him as breathing. Reclaiming her hand, she agreed with him that it might be best to leave uncovered to air, if she could remember not to use it without the reminder of the protecting cloth.

'A day or two more,' Mardi was saying, having turned back to finish pouring out, when Nell interrupted with an eager look.

She had moved back to stand at Ferdi's bedside. 'He's looking better, don't you think?' And with a swift glance from Ferdi to Tolly and back again, she added, 'Both are looking better...?'

'Aye,' Mardi said, handing a cup to Eglantine and motioning her to his own chair, and then bringing another to Nell. 'Their colour's been returning with the brightening of the day. It's almost as if the light brings them strength!' He shook his head at himself. 'Pardon my fancy, Misses, I don't mean to speak as if I'm dreaming still.'

But the dark shadows were gone, that Eglantine had seen under their eyes when they were brought in, and their faces did have a life and colour that had been lacking in the early morning lamplight.

Mardi rattled his spoon in his teacup, a loud and cheery sound in the quiet room. 'Tolly!' he said. 'Ferdi! Tolly? Some tea?' All three watched the sleepers, eager to see some response. The sleepers did not waken, but Tolly did turn onto his side with a sigh, and Ferdi smiled in his sleep and murmured something unintelligible.

'Much better,' Mardi muttered as if to himself, and at Eglantine's sharp, querying glance he smiled and shrugged a little. 'It seems as if the dark dreams have passed off,' he said. 'They fell into a quieter, more restful sleep some time ago, and I suppose that's when I dropped off as well.'

The dwarf-made clock in the parlour chimed just then, and Eglantine counted to ten under her breath. 'Ten o' the clock!' she exclaimed. The field-workers would have taken wrapped-up cloths filled with bread and cheese or cold meat with them for elevenses, but... 'Ah, but I've no idea what we'll manage for the nooning!' She drained her cup and set it on the saucer with a hurried rattle. 'Come, Nell,' she said, 'we'll leave Mardi to watch for a bit, just long enough to chop some meat and veg and set them to boiling... perhaps stir up some muffins to sop up the soup... I fear it'll be hasty pudding and not much else if we don't stir ourselves, and quickly!'

Pervinca, apparently roused by the same sound, met them outside the door with a breathless, 'How are they?'

'Better,' Eglantine said, at the same time as Nell's 'They're well, I mean, nearly so...'

With the three of them (well, nearly three, if you counted Eglantine as one good hand and part of another), the kitchen soon filled with savoury smells, and then Pervinca and Pimpernel washed up the breakfast dishes, and while Vinca and Eglantine finished putting away the dried dishes, Nell went back to sit with her sleeping Ferdi once more.

By the time the workers came in from the field, a simple but hot and filling meal was on the table, and Eglantine could meet Paladin with a smile and feeling of accomplishment.

'How're the lads?' he greeted her.

'Why don't you see for yourself?' she countered, as she ladled soup into bowls for Mardi and Nell, wondering if the aroma would waken the sleepers at last. 'Here, take this with you!'

Paladin lifted the laden tray with a wink and a grin. Two nights without sleep, and he didn't seem much the worse for wear, Eglantine thought with relief. Still, she'd do all she could to see that he sought the bed early this night. No use letting him wear himself to tatters.

'They are looking much better,' was his verdict upon his return, and it was with lighter spirits that the farmer and his family and hired hobbits sat down to their noontide meal. It seemed as if Ferdi and Tolly must waken at any time, perhaps even before Paladin and the others went back out to their haying, and things would return to the way they ought to be, on a fine and sunny September day.