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Don't know about tomorrow... it looks to be a very busy day, but here's a bit for you.
“Of course you can,” said Pippin. “And second breakfast too, if I know Sam.” He pushed the bread and jam toward Bergil’s side of the table.
“They will not be awake for a while yet,” The King said. “Now that I have athelas, I shall soothe their dreams, to let them sleep more restfully. But eat a little now, if it will keep you awake, and when the cooks come you can eat your fill.”
Break bread with the king? Bergil didn’t even know how to start to think what Master Tollovand would say, but Pippin started to carve another slice off the loaf, and the king got up from his chair, so it wasn’t like he was actually eating breakfast with him after all. He took the bread from Pippin and poured some jam onto it from the jar. The sweet scent of the jam filled his nose and made him even hungrier, and he bit into the bread gladly. He grinned around the mouthful at Pippin, but Pippin was watching as the king filled his pot from the boiler and set it over the fire.
“You don’t want me to go back to bed, do you Strider?”
“No, Pippin. Since you’re awake I think I’ll make use of you. Faramir has warned me that the food stocks are still being distributed from the central storehouses, and there was not time to select supplies for the kitchen here. The palace cooks will send meals down, of course, but I thought you might prefer to make some meals for yourselves.”
“Sam would like that,” Pippin said. “And so would I.”
“Come back to the palace with me, then, and you can choose what you like.” The King peered into the pot and nodded to himself, taking two of the athelas leaves from the packet to crumple into the water. He wrapped the end of his sleeve around his hand and picked up the pot, carrying it over to the Ringbearer’s bedside.
As the king swirled the pot gently and sang something soft, Bergil caught the fresh, clean scent of the herb. It reminded him of the day that the Lord Aragorn had come and saved Captain Faramir, and how new hope had filled the Houses of Healing. He hadn’t been afraid of him then -- there had been too many worse things to fear than a Ranger from the north that day -- and now, listening to the deep voice winding Elvish words around the benediction of the athelas, Bergil forgot to be nervous of his new king and looked his fill.
His clothes were nicer, new-made cloth and cut to fit, and he’d had a bath this time, and brushed his hair. But those were easy to change, and he’d changed more; his face was not as tired as it had been that day, and he’d been eating better, His eyes were still worried but there was joy there too, and his hand was steady as it skimmed across the Ringbearer’s brow, undisturbed by the exhaustion which had underlain all his movements before.
part twenty one
“Of course you can,” said Pippin. “And second breakfast too, if I know Sam.” He pushed the bread and jam toward Bergil’s side of the table.
“They will not be awake for a while yet,” The King said. “Now that I have athelas, I shall soothe their dreams, to let them sleep more restfully. But eat a little now, if it will keep you awake, and when the cooks come you can eat your fill.”
Break bread with the king? Bergil didn’t even know how to start to think what Master Tollovand would say, but Pippin started to carve another slice off the loaf, and the king got up from his chair, so it wasn’t like he was actually eating breakfast with him after all. He took the bread from Pippin and poured some jam onto it from the jar. The sweet scent of the jam filled his nose and made him even hungrier, and he bit into the bread gladly. He grinned around the mouthful at Pippin, but Pippin was watching as the king filled his pot from the boiler and set it over the fire.
“You don’t want me to go back to bed, do you Strider?”
“No, Pippin. Since you’re awake I think I’ll make use of you. Faramir has warned me that the food stocks are still being distributed from the central storehouses, and there was not time to select supplies for the kitchen here. The palace cooks will send meals down, of course, but I thought you might prefer to make some meals for yourselves.”
“Sam would like that,” Pippin said. “And so would I.”
“Come back to the palace with me, then, and you can choose what you like.” The King peered into the pot and nodded to himself, taking two of the athelas leaves from the packet to crumple into the water. He wrapped the end of his sleeve around his hand and picked up the pot, carrying it over to the Ringbearer’s bedside.
As the king swirled the pot gently and sang something soft, Bergil caught the fresh, clean scent of the herb. It reminded him of the day that the Lord Aragorn had come and saved Captain Faramir, and how new hope had filled the Houses of Healing. He hadn’t been afraid of him then -- there had been too many worse things to fear than a Ranger from the north that day -- and now, listening to the deep voice winding Elvish words around the benediction of the athelas, Bergil forgot to be nervous of his new king and looked his fill.
His clothes were nicer, new-made cloth and cut to fit, and he’d had a bath this time, and brushed his hair. But those were easy to change, and he’d changed more; his face was not as tired as it had been that day, and he’d been eating better, His eyes were still worried but there was joy there too, and his hand was steady as it skimmed across the Ringbearer’s brow, undisturbed by the exhaustion which had underlain all his movements before.
part twenty one