I’m watching you ride off, keeping my eyes on the spot of white that Gandalf makes against the fields. My hands are gripping the edge of the railing so tight that I feel the skin break. Aragorn is beside me, but I hardly notice him. I’m to busy imagining that I’m with you, that somehow we’re together, that nothing has changed.
But it has. Everything’s changed.
The fact that you and I would always be together was a given. It was the one constant fact throughout all…this. It was what kept me going. Frodo had Sam, I had you. I’ve always had you, Pippin.
But not now.
Aragorn’s saying something. I can’t hear him, either that or I won’t. I’m vaguely aware of him prying my hands off the railing. Some corner of my conscious notes that the railing is stained bright red. But my mind isn’t looking at my blood. It isn’t even in Rohan. It’s back in the Shire, nearly thirty years ago. And the color that fills my eyes isn’t red.
It’s green.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Merry leaned back against the door and sighed heavily. He’d been waiting forever and STILL no-one had come out of the room. He was beginning to wonder if there really was any baby at all. He slid down to the floor and rested his curly head against the smooth wood, straining his ears for any noise at all. The thought occurred to him that he was the only one left, that everyone else had secretly gone off and left him waiting for a baby that was NEVER going to come!
Of course, he’d only been waiting about two hours, but to the eight year old mind, an hour can seem like days. Merry was especially anxious because his cousin was the baby being born. Not that Merry didn’t have dozens and dozens of cousins, but this was the son (Merry didn’t even consider that it might be a girl) of his dear aunt Eglantine. She was one of his favorite aunts, but she had three girls, and everyone knows that girls are no fun at all. It was high time for a boy.
The door opened behind Merry and he fell back onto the floor with a thud.
“Shh!” Pervinca hissed.
Merry sat up and glared at the lass. She was the youngest girl of Eglantine’s, and the most annoying girl Merry had ever met. “You could’ve warned me.” he grumbled as he scrambled to his feet. He brushed himself off with an air of offended dignity, awaiting Pervinca’s usual sarcastic reply. It didn’t come.
Merry looked up and met Pervinca’s tear-stained face. A shiver of fear ran up his spine as she sniffled a couple times and wiped her nose on her sleeve. Merry had the faint notion that he should offer her a handkerchief, but he didn’t have one on him. Instead he swallowed hard and asked, “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Pervinca merely sniffled again and sat down with her back against the wall. Merry went over and sat beside her, face drawn with concern. “What is it, Vinca?” he asked again.
Pervinca gave another sniffle and said in a choked voice, “I don’t know. I just know that something’s wrong. It’s taking too long, everyone says, Mama’s too weak, the baby’s too weak, something bad is gonna happen….” she trailed off and stared into space. Then she continued. “I was there to help. But they sent me out. I guess they didn’t want me to see…” This time Pervinca remained silent, big fat tears rolling down her face. She didn’t make a sound.
Merry, unsure of what to do, put his arm around her. The two sat silently, their animosity forgotten in the fear of that moment. Merry decided he had never spent a longer hour.
A little while later (though it felt like forever for the two) the door opened and Celandine, the midwife stepped out. “Merry, Pervinca?” she said gently, startling the two out of a light doze.
The pair stood as one and immediately peppered Celandine with questions. “What happened?” “Where’s Mama?” “Is she all right?” “Is the baby all right?” “Did they die?” “Did anyone die?”
Celandine held up her hands in a silencing gesture. “No, no-one died. I’m sorry we didn’t inform you more but this...” Celandine paused and ran her hands through her curls, which, Merry noticed, were soaked with sweat. “This was one of the hardest births I’ve ever helped with.” she concluded with a heavy sigh. She smiled at the little hobbits and said gently. “You may go in now.”
Merry darted past her and paused. Aunt Eglantine was resting on the bed, her bright red hair dark with sweat. Pervinca went immediately to her mother, but Merry was more interested in the little cradle in the corner. He went over to it, but stopped about three feet from it, nervous. Celandine, sensing his nervousness, glided past (Celandine always glided, she never walked) and scooped up a tiny bundle. “Sit.” she instructed Merry.
Merry sat obediently and Celandine set the bundle in his arms. “Careful.” she said softly, turning to attend to Eglantine, while still keeping an eye on Merry.
Merry froze as a tiny red hand reached out and a pair of small furry feet stretched and kicked. Merry noticed that the fur on the feet was fine and soft and light, not at all like the coarse hair of a grown-up hobbit. He gently touched the hand and the little fingers instantly wrapped around his bigger one. Everything else seemed to fade away as Merry peered at the little wrinkled face, so much smaller than his, so innocent, half-asleep. A little shock of cinnamon-colored hair, curling slightly at the tips, crowned the little ones head. Merry smiled slightly and stroked the baby’s velvety-soft hand. He was certain that nothing could make this child more irresistible.
Then the baby’s eyes opened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ TBC