Chapter 11: Dreamflower
'Gandalf!' Pippin whispered in a horrified voice, 'what did I do? I only meant to spare them, and now I've made everything worse!'
'What do you think you should do?'
'I suppose I shall have to talk to them--tell them…oh, Gandalf, how can I tell them of the dreams that won't let me sleep? I can't stand to think about them.'
'Peregrin, you dream for a reason. Your mind needs to sort through the experiences you have had, and hiding from those thoughts and memories only make the dreams worse.'
Pippin nodded miserably.
'It is possible that telling your dreams will help the others. They too, need to talk of the things that happened to them--especially Frodo. Tell me, how does it make you feel to keep things from them?'
Pippin blushed and bit his lip. Not talking to them about what bothered him was miserable.
'I think that you will find they have many of the same nightmares and bad memories as you do. Speaking of the dreams will not make them go away entirely, but it will help you to draw off some of the evil memories that plague you. In time, it will make a difference. But you do need to speak to them, and to speak from your heart. Taking a drug to put your mind into oblivion is not the solution.'
*****
In the small room that the King used as his informal office, he sat across from Faramir and listened in dismay to the report of what his Steward had discovered about the poppy.
'It seems that the Guardsman who gave the poppy to Pippin was relatively blameless. He was concerned about the hobbit's lack of sleep, and feared what would happen if Pippin fell asleep on duty.'
Aragorn winced, and sighed. 'I have really got to do something about that. In a time of war, I suppose penalties need to be harsh. But there is no need for such measures now.' He tried, and failed, to imagine himself ordering a flogging for Pippin. All that came to his mind were the horrified and accusing stares of the other hobbits--especially Frodo. He shuddered.
Faramir nodded, and continued. 'Targon received his poppy from a Guardsman in the Fourth Company, one Eldil. Again, the poppy was simply given with the motivation to help, and without any realization of the dangers. However, unlike Targon, Eldil has been taking the powder on a regular basis for weeks now. It is going to be very difficult to get him to stop--I am afraid he will no longer be of use to his Company, nor fit for duty.' Faramir's eyes were sad; it was clear that Eldil had been taken by the drug and it had begun to take its toll.
Aragorn nodded, and indicated that Faramir should continue.
'Eldil had begun in the same way as Targon and Pippin: his difficulty in sleeping and facing the nightmares of the war drew the attention of a friend in the Second Company. However, here we find a difference. It seems that this friend, one Ingold, has seemingly disappeared. It has only just been noticed, for he had been given three days leave--he had fallen ill, and his captain sent him away, with orders to visit the Houses of Healing. However, the three days were up yesterday, and when the captain sent inquiries to the Warden at the Houses of Healing to discover if perhaps his man was still lying ill, it was discovered that he had never arrived.' Faramir paused here, and Aragorn leaned forward in interest.
'He was suffering from the lack of the drug,' the King said. 'He must have gone to find his supplier.'
'That was my thought as well. Captain Meneldor had already begun to make inquiries into his man's whereabouts. With what I was able to tell him about what we suspected, he will be better able to direct his attention. I expect a report from him by the fifth hour past noon. I have also asked all the captains to report to me any of their men who have appeared to be ill or otherwise behaving in an unusual manner.'
'This is very disturbing, Faramir,' Aragorn said. 'So far it appears that this drug use is concentrated among the companies of the Tower Guard. Have you heard any indications that it might be making its way among the general populace?'
Faramir shook his head. 'Not so far. And it appears that the trouble began soon after the coronation.'
The King leaned back. 'We need to deal with this. I would like to get it cleared up before Midsummer's Day, if possible.' He looked for a moment as if he would say more, but then he sighed, shook his head, and then in a completely different tone, said 'Thank you, Faramir, for taking this in hand so quickly. I am very pleased with the way you are handling things.'
Faramir blushed a little, and felt gratified at the praise--it was not something that had often been granted him in the past by anyone save his brother.
'Continue as you have been. And tomorrow morning, I wish to meet with my captains of the Tower Guard companies, all five of them.'
*****
After Gandalf had spoken to him, Pippin had wept a bit, silently, and then drifted off to sleep once more. His body was weary and wracked from its ordeal in fighting off the poison, but his mind and heart were finally beginning to find some ease.
Gandalf sighed, and once more felt regret at how it had been necessary to spend his small friends' innocence in order to defeat Sauron. Of the four of them, he thought that Sam would come out of these troubles most easily. His sturdy practicality and the Gaffer's solid teachings would see him through without much looking back. Sam was already looking ahead to home. Merry and Pippin worried him--the darkness they had dealt with had left its mark. And Pippin was so young; in the reckoning of his people not even an adult yet. This bout with the poppy had taken its toll as well--in the future, he would not be able to rely even on the common poppy that was used for healing without awakening the dreadful need in him once more. Frodo was still upon the brink; as long as he was needed by someone else, as long as he could put his mind and heart into helping those he loved, he did well. But he could not seem to find any reason to help himself, and when he thought about himself, he brooded. Gandalf feared that true healing for Frodo might not come easily, if at all.
Sam awakened next, and sat up. He was followed by Merry. The two of them slipped from the large bed, moving carefully, so as not to awaken Pippin or Frodo. Just then, the door opened slightly, and one of the healers put his head into the room.
'Ah, good morning,' he said diffidently. He was a bit awed by the presence of the Wizard. 'I just wished to see that all was well.' He moved silently to the bed, and took Pippin's wrist. Pippin stirred, but did not open his eyes.
'How is he?' whispered Merry, an anxious note in his voice.
'He seems to be doing well. His skin is neither clammy nor hot, and his pulse is steady.' He turned to Gandalf, with a questioning look.
'He slept quietly, was awake briefly, and then slept again,' he said.
'In that case, the King ordered that a meal be brought--for all the pheriannath.'
Merry and Sam greeted this pronouncement with grins. Sam's belly chose that moment to rumble, and he blushed. The healer chuckled. 'I shall order that a tray be sent up. You may wish to awaken your friends and prepare them to eat.'
Pippin's eyes were still sensitive, and probably would be for a few more hours yet, so the windows remained shuttered, but he and Frodo were quite cheerful and hungry when they woke, and were very glad when the door bumped open, and two servants wheeled in a trolley from which toothsome smells were coming.
There was tea, and a tray of small cakes filled with nuts and dried fruit; there was porridge laced with cinnamon and honey; coddled eggs; smoked ham and a pile of toasted bread and butter--quite enough to feed four hungry hobbits and a wizard.
*****
In a small dingy room behind a battered building on the Second Circle, the Guardsman Ingold wept and pleaded. 'Please! Please let me have some of the powder! I'll do anything! Anything! Anything you want!'
The two swarthy Men exchanged a satisfied glance. 'Anything?' one of them asked with a smile.