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piploverHello, all. Just a little ficlet that is un-betaed. All mistakes are mine.
Hidden in Shadows
Pippin lay curled tightly on the soft blanket he had dragged form the bed, his head resting on his arms. Little sobs still escaped him, despite his best efforts, and he only hoped that no one would look for him here, under the bed.
He didn't truly care at the moment how cowardly he might seem. A Knight of Gondor, hiding away from the world like a fauntling. All he knew was that for right now, in this instant, he wanted to be left alone. No cousins, no King, no friends. Just the darkness that sorrounded him and enveloped him like the comforting arms of his mother.
Another little sob escaped him, and he bit his fist, trying to muffle the sound. He knew they would be searching for him soon. He had finished his guard several hours before and had practically run back here, desperate to escape if only for a little while.
There had been no reason for this black mood to settle about him. Nothing traumatic to start the tears, or an enemy to frighten him into this dark little shelter. Only the monsters within himself had chased his small form, until all he could think of was the desire to hide.
He had not moved from his position since his hasty removal and rearanging of bedding. His legs ached slightly from being curled for so long, and his face burned with all the tears he had shed. But he could not convince himself to move. Not yet.
Sudden movement caught his attention, and before he could stifle the tiny cry that escaped him, a familiar figure appeared before him, kneeling down beside his bed. Gentle eyes regarded him, understanding filling them without condemnation, without judgement.
Without a word, the King slowly manouvered himself under the bed as well, mindless of the dirt on his imcaulate breaches. Tenderly, he wrapped his arms around his smallest of Knights, rocking him soothingly as Pippin continued to cry.
"My poor little bird," he finally whispered, after what seemed like hours had passed. For all Pippin knew, perhaps they had. "We all thought that because you could fly again your wings were healed, didn't we?"
He could not bring himself to speak, only nod his head, uncertain what his friend was saying, yet comforted by the gentle voice.
"It is all right, Little Bird," Aragorn continued, stroking Pippin's hair gently, soothingly. "Some days the light shines too brightly for weary eyes. There is no shame in seeking shelter."
Aragorn continued to rock, his voice lowered into a soothing lullaby that Pippin did not need to understand. His desperate fear of being found had vanished, along with the sobs that had gripped his frame and shuddered him until he thought his very bones would break. Now all that remained was a great weariness that seemed to pull at his lids, beckoning.
"Sleep, Little Bird," Aragorn murmured, placing a gentle kiss to Pippin's curls. "No one shall find us until you are ready to be found. I promise."
With a last little sigh, Pippin, Knight of Gondor, allowed himself to fall into the welcoming darkness. And that night, the High King slept under a bed, warmed by the soft cocoon of blankets that covered him, holding his friend close to his heart.
And in the morn, when the dawn arrived, the darkness was difussed, and those who stood guard outside the door to the chamber allowed themselves a small smile.
For even with one wing, a bird can fly when held aloft by another.
Hidden in Shadows
Pippin lay curled tightly on the soft blanket he had dragged form the bed, his head resting on his arms. Little sobs still escaped him, despite his best efforts, and he only hoped that no one would look for him here, under the bed.
He didn't truly care at the moment how cowardly he might seem. A Knight of Gondor, hiding away from the world like a fauntling. All he knew was that for right now, in this instant, he wanted to be left alone. No cousins, no King, no friends. Just the darkness that sorrounded him and enveloped him like the comforting arms of his mother.
Another little sob escaped him, and he bit his fist, trying to muffle the sound. He knew they would be searching for him soon. He had finished his guard several hours before and had practically run back here, desperate to escape if only for a little while.
There had been no reason for this black mood to settle about him. Nothing traumatic to start the tears, or an enemy to frighten him into this dark little shelter. Only the monsters within himself had chased his small form, until all he could think of was the desire to hide.
He had not moved from his position since his hasty removal and rearanging of bedding. His legs ached slightly from being curled for so long, and his face burned with all the tears he had shed. But he could not convince himself to move. Not yet.
Sudden movement caught his attention, and before he could stifle the tiny cry that escaped him, a familiar figure appeared before him, kneeling down beside his bed. Gentle eyes regarded him, understanding filling them without condemnation, without judgement.
Without a word, the King slowly manouvered himself under the bed as well, mindless of the dirt on his imcaulate breaches. Tenderly, he wrapped his arms around his smallest of Knights, rocking him soothingly as Pippin continued to cry.
"My poor little bird," he finally whispered, after what seemed like hours had passed. For all Pippin knew, perhaps they had. "We all thought that because you could fly again your wings were healed, didn't we?"
He could not bring himself to speak, only nod his head, uncertain what his friend was saying, yet comforted by the gentle voice.
"It is all right, Little Bird," Aragorn continued, stroking Pippin's hair gently, soothingly. "Some days the light shines too brightly for weary eyes. There is no shame in seeking shelter."
Aragorn continued to rock, his voice lowered into a soothing lullaby that Pippin did not need to understand. His desperate fear of being found had vanished, along with the sobs that had gripped his frame and shuddered him until he thought his very bones would break. Now all that remained was a great weariness that seemed to pull at his lids, beckoning.
"Sleep, Little Bird," Aragorn murmured, placing a gentle kiss to Pippin's curls. "No one shall find us until you are ready to be found. I promise."
With a last little sigh, Pippin, Knight of Gondor, allowed himself to fall into the welcoming darkness. And that night, the High King slept under a bed, warmed by the soft cocoon of blankets that covered him, holding his friend close to his heart.
And in the morn, when the dawn arrived, the darkness was difussed, and those who stood guard outside the door to the chamber allowed themselves a small smile.
For even with one wing, a bird can fly when held aloft by another.
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Date: 2005-02-20 05:16 am (UTC)