piplover | I'm Back!!! (Reply)

Hello, everyone! I'm back, and oh, how I missed you all! I got a new hard drive for Christmas and my brother installed it today. I've spent the better part of several hours trying to put everything back on it and get it set up properly again. Still working on it, but I'm just so thankful.

Sooooooo.... In celebration, I present a little hobbit snippet that I wrote a while ago and found while I was reloading. Enjoy!!

Blackberry Surprise

Rating: G
Warning: None
Disclaimer: I no own, you no sue.

The moonlight cast shadows upon the courtyard of the King’s garden, illuminating all that bloomed and grew with a silver outline. Hidden to most eyes, sitting easily upon the earth beside a rather large bush that was blooming scented pink and white blossoms, Peregrin Took gazed up to the stars. A calm seemed to have settled about his shoulders, a patience that many would never have attributed to the young hobbit.

There had been so many parties that night, so many things to do to prepare for them and so many duties to perform that this had been the Knight’s first chance to escape the noise and crowd. Not even Aragorn had seen the young hobbit slip away once his relief had arrived, and Pippin was grateful. Three nights in a row of constant parties and dances and duties was starting to ware on him, and a heavy weight seemed to settle about his shoulders.

Frodo and Sam had retired earlier, both claiming fatigue, and Merry seemed to be showing no signs of weariness. Legolas and Gimli, of course, seemed to be prepared to stay up the whole of the night, keeping an equally energetic Aragorn company.

Pippin sighed, closing his eyes to the gaze above him, resting his head upon his upturned knees.

Did you ever sit here and gaze to the stars, Boromir? Was this how the City looked to you?

For a moment sorrow seemed to settle about his shoulders, and Pippin folded it about himself like a cloak. Here, in this silent haven, he allowed his thoughts to wander paths he had not dared to tread before. Memories of friends he had lost, of people he had barely known yet had fought beside, and of young boys barely into manhood flooded into his mind. Each face contained a name, each name a voice.

Did Merry feel this way? Did Aragorn? So many had been lost, how could they not?

“Boromir,” Pippin whispered into the silence. “I wish you were here.”

He was still wearing his livery, the black of his uniform casting him into shadow, hiding his form any eyes that may have wandered by. A great weariness seemed to wash over him, filling him as a wave fills the small tidal pools on the banks of a river. Pippin yawned, easing himself down onto his side, curled into a small ball, and allowed his eyes to close.

I’m only going to take a small nap, he told himself firmly, breathing in the scent of fresh earth and blossoms, the grass beneath his head as soft as any cushion. After all, I don’t want the others to worry if they can’t find me. Just a few…moments…and then…

His thoughts drifted as sleep claimed him, and he found himself in a slumber deeper than he had experienced for a long time.

***

He dreamt of voices and faces that he had only known for a short time, yet remembered as clearly as if he had just met them. Each figure that he came to smiled, a peace and light seeming to fill their beings. And beside him, as though he had always been there and never left his side, strode Boromir.

Nothing was said in that strange dream, for there was no need for words. With each man he passed there was an easing of his heart, as though the great burden had been lifted, and when he came at last to what appeared the end of the line, he turned, smiling up at his friend.

Boromir smiled down at Pippin, resting his hand upon the young Knight’s head, and nodded, once.

“Be at peace, Little One,” the large man whispered. Light seemed to engulf him, surrounding him and the rest of those who had come to say farewell.

Pippin nodded, closing his eyes against the brightness. And then he knew no more.

***

Strong arms were carrying him, and the smell of leather and soap filled his nose, replacing the earth and blossoms. For a long moment he was content to be carried thus, safe and warm in that grasp that he knew, somehow, would never let any harm come to him.

“Boromir,” he breathed, sighing in his sleep, for he was not truly awake at that moment.

“Hush, little bird,” a familiar voice whispered, and the arms tightened gently.

He knew then that it was Aragorn who carried him, and found himself resting his cheek against a strong shoulder, the material of the King’s tunic softer than down.

“Ah, I see you have found our stray bird,” a deep voice rumbled gently, and a hand, tender and as familiar as his own, brushed his curls.

“Indeed. He was sleeping in the garden, nestled amongst the lavender. I do believe that my young Knight is in need of a rest, old friend,” Aragorn responded.

“Indeed,” Gandalf whispered, and the hand lifted, touching his brow for just a moment. “He has been greatly wearied of late, though I believe his burden may now be lightened.”

Aragorn, long accustomed to the Wizard’s cryptic remarks, made no reply, and instead continued on his way. Pippin had no idea how long the King walked, nor where they went, in the silence of the dawn, for he found himself drifting in and out of slumber, but when they did halt, he felt himself being placed upon smooth sheets, and his tunic removed.

“Strider?” a sleepy voice asked, somewhere close to Pippin’s ear.

“Hush, Merry, go back to sleep. Pippin is just very tired, and shall be remaining in bed today,” Aragorn answered softly.

Pippin allowed himself to be undressed, the King’s hands gentle as he removed armor and trousers, replacing them with a warm nightshirt. Then a blanket was tucked around his chin, and a hand stroke his curls.

“Sleep well, my friends,” Aragorn whispered.

“Mmmhhh,” Pippin answered, burrowing under the covers. Then he knew no more.