A ficlet

[piplover]

Hello, all.  Just another ficlet.  Hope you enjoy.  Once more, un-beta-ed.

It Just Takes Time

“It just takes time…”

 

            A phrase breathed through pursed lips, as Egglantine Took watched over her nine-day old son, and wondered how much time it would take before her child would begin to cry as a healthy baby, instead of with pain.  And how long before she no longer felt compelled to sit beside his basinet, watching his tiny chest rise, just to make certain it would continue to do so.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            Merry watched as his little cousin stumbled along after his older sister, the two of them racing to find the last of the little wooden buttons that had been placed around the garden.  Though trying her best to appear as though she it was not doing it on purpose, Pervinca slowed her step, and pretended to stumble,  allowing her five year old brother to claim the button prize that would grant him a toy from the stash Bilbo had set aside for this game.

 

            Merry watched his little cousin beam triumphantly over at his sister, his little fingers holding tight to his prize.   As Bilbo presented Pippin with a small stuffed lamb, he could not help but wonder how much time it would take before this little one before him would be able to win prizes on his own.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            Frodo watched silently as Pippin sat on the side of Merry’s bed, reading to him haltingly from the book he held in his lap.  Though Merry’s eyes were closed, a cool cloth on his brow to help reduce the fever he had been running the past two days, Frodo knew his cousin was still awake, hanging onto Pippin’s every sentance. 

 

            Pippin stumbled over a large word he was unsure of, looking up to meet Frodo’s eyes in a quite plea, and Frodo answered the unspoken question, moving over to lean over Pippin’s shoulder and whisper the word into his pointed ear.  Pippin smiled his thanks and continued to read, leaving his eldest cousin remembering a time when the thirteen year old could barely spell his own name.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            Pippin stumbled through the door to his room, Frodo on one side, Merry the other, the two older cousins smiling wryly at each other.

 

            Though held off by a lingering sickness and his mother’s concern, Pippin had finally been allowed to spend the evening with the lads at the Green Dragon for the first time, and had been properly introduced to the Shire’s finest ale.   Though the event had been put off several weeks after his twenty-first birthday, it had still been a grand celebration. 

 

            As Pippin had said that morning, “It was only a matter of time.”

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            The four weary hobbits struggled valiantly to keep up with the long strides of their strange new companion, each fighting in their own way to make the many hours pass quickly. 

 

            Though not as good as Bilbo, Pippin still had a sharp wit, and it was not long before he had the others involved in a riddle game that kept their minds from the harsh ground and the stinging insects.  All of them, even the silent Ranger, hoped that the harsh land would end soon.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            Sam snored softly as the darkness of Moria surrounded them, and Pippin felt his eyes prick with unshed tears.  Though he would not allow any of the others to see him weep with fear,  he knew it would be only a matter of time before they fell.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

            “It will take Frodo and Sam some time to recover from all that has happened,” Gandalf’s soft voice whispered into the night, his tone almost too low for hobbit ears to hear. 

 

            “They may never recover completely,” Aragorn answered, just as softly.  “Perhaps none of us will.”

 

            “It just takes time…”

            Pippin awoke screaming from the clawing nightmare that seemed to have become his constant companion since Frodo and Gandalf had departed across the sea.  Beside him, reading by the light of a candle, Merry jerked at the sound, and was at his cousin’s side in a moment, holding him and whispering soothing words into his fevered brain.

 

            “It’s all right,” Merry whispered, over and over.  “It just takes time, Pippin, that’s all, it just takes time.”

 

Pippin could only wonder, as he sobbed softly into the familiar shoulder, if that time would ever arrive.  Or would it remain, as always, 'just a matter of time'.

 

            “It just takes time…”

 

           

           

 

Comments

[katakanadian.livejournal.com]

Love it! Especially that you didn't feel the need to end it on a perfectly happy note.

[ansostuff.livejournal.com]

This was wonderful! I so loved this. So much love, so much strength, so much friendship, so much Pippin.

You might want to make that Eglantine Took, it`s Esmeralda Brandybuck

[lil-banik-slave.livejournal.com]

*sniff*

[melilot-hill.livejournal.com]

Very moving ficlet. I really liked it :)

[shirebound]

That's so poignant. What a valiant, undaunted hobbit our Pippin is! And what love always surrounded him.

[rabidsamfan.livejournal.com]

Very nice. Lovely choice of incidents too.

[pipspebble.livejournal.com]

Oh, my poor, precious Pippin! This is a lovely, angsty story; I do love how you write those two!