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Little One
by HeidiM
“Here, Pip. This’ll do you good.”
Pippin shook his head silently, refusing Merry’s offer of food.
“Come on, Pippin. You’ve been complaining about hunger ever since we set out.”
Pippin looked up at Merry, nothing but sadness in his small face, then his gaze slid away, finding Frodo and Sam a short distance off. Frodo was devastated, Sam trying to see to his needs, but too numbed to do much more than sit by his master, holding his hand. Beyond them, the big folk, Aragorn, Boromir, Legolas, and Gimli sat together in silence, grim expressions on all their faces. They were half way to Lothlorien, miles from the horrors of Moria, but all their thoughts remained on Gandalf, lost at Kazadum.
With a sigh, Merry sat down, putting aside the plate he was holding. He put his arm around the younger Hobbit.
“We’ll be all right, Pip. Aragorn knows the way.”
“I did it, Merry.”
“What? What did you do?”
“ ‘Fool of a Took’, Gandalf said, and he was right. And now he’s dead, because of me.”
Merry was shocked, looking at his cousin in alarm.
“Pip –”
“No, it’s true, you know it is. I brought them on us.”
“No one thinks that. I don’t think that.”
Pippin just shrugged, his small shoulders going up and down once. Merry pulled him closer, so Pippin’s head rested on his shoulder.
“It’s all right, Pip. It’ll be all right.”
Frodo glanced over at them, his gaze moving between the two of them, unmistakable pain in his clear blue eyes. Merry resolved to speak to him. Maybe some kind words from Frodo would help, make Pippin see he was not to blame. Merry squeezed Pippin a little tighter.
“Maybe I should turn back, find my way home,” Pippin said.
“Don’t be daft. You’d be lost as soon as you were out of sight.”
“Wish I’d gone back with Bill.”
“Nobody’s leaving, Pip. This Fellowship needs us all, especially people of intelligence, like you.”
Merry was teasing him, trying to cheer him up, but the effort fell flat. The younger Hobbit pulled away, looking sharply at his cousin.
“I’m teasing,” Merry said. “It’s what you said to Elrond.”
Pippin didn’t reply, just got to his feet and walked off a short distance, sitting down again by himself. Merry sighed, watching him. He forgot how sensitive Pippin could be sometimes. It was a foolish thing to say.
“I’m sorry,” Merry whispered, his heart breaking, “I’m sorry…”
************
“How’s your hand, little one?”
Pippin looked up, finding Boromir towering over him. Ever since Boromir had accidentally cut him while teaching sword fighting, he’d taken it upon himself to check Pippin’s wound.
“Fine,” Pippin answered.
Boromir crouched down. “Let me see.”
Gently, Boromir unwound the bandaging, Pippin’s small hand lost in his.
“You’re healing,” Boromir said, rewrapping the cloth. He glanced at Pippin’s stricken expression. “Are you unwell?”
“I’m fine.”
“Then why do you sit here alone? You have words with Merry?”
Pippin shook his head.
Boromir sighed, looking over his shoulder at a disconsolate Merry. “You two are never apart.” His sharp gaze came back to Pippin. “It has been a terrible day for us all, little one, but we must move on.”
Pippin’s lower lip trembled, and his eyes filled with tears. Boromir didn’t know what to do. A crying Hobbit was very much like a crying child, did one give comfort in the same way? Awkwardly, he rubbed Pippin’s back.
“Everyone up!” Aragorn called. “We must reach Lothlorien by dusk.”
Pippin wiped his eyes, letting Boromir help him to his feet.
“All right, little one?”
Pippin nodded, and fell into line behind Merry. Merry looked back at him, concern in his face, but the terrain was rough, and they moved forward without speaking, eyes on the ground.
***************
Once the great wood of Lothlorien was in sight, Aragorn let them have another short rest. Merry dropped down beside Frodo and Sam. Again, Pippin sat alone, knees drawn up, head resting wearily on them. Sam was about to call out to him, but Merry’s hand on his arm stopped him. Merry looked at Frodo, grieving, exhausted Frodo, his usually playful blue eyes dull and red rimmed. Maybe it was too much to ask right now, but he had to try.
“Frodo,” Merry said softly, “can you talk to Pip?”
“About what?”
“He thinks he brought the Orcs and the Balrog on us. He thinks Gandalf…”
Merry couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat constricting. Frodo looked at him for one long moment, then shook his head.
“What could I say that would make a difference?”
“Please, Frodo. I’ve never seen him so low.”
“I’m so tired, Merry.”
“I know, and I wouldn’t ask, but I’m very worried. He’s talked about turning back, trying to get home, and he just might do it. I – I don’t know what I’d do, if I looked around and he was gone.”
Some understanding came into Frodo’s eyes, and he and Sam exchanged a glance.
“I – I want my Pippin back,” Merry said, unable to stop himself.
Then he felt himself blushing furiously, making the implications of his words all too clear. But Pippin was young, had not yet come of age, so there could only be a quiet, unrequited love for now.
Frodo put his hand on Merry’s shoulder. “All right, I’ll speak to him.” Frodo paused, looking across at Pippin. “I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Merry. I should have sent you both home from Bree.”
“We wouldn’t have gone. Not with Farmer Maggot waiting to give us a hiding.”
They exchanged small smiles, Farmer Maggot and the Shire merely a dream now, then Frodo got wearily to his feet and walked over to Pippin.
“He’ll set things right, Merry,” Sam said. “You’ll see.”
**********
Frodo sat down beside his cousin, leaning forward, trying to see his face. Pippin didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him, so shamed he was by his carelessness in Moria.
“We’ll have a good night’s rest tonight,” Frodo said, with some forced cheer, “with the Elves again. And I imagine there will be a good meal, too.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You will be when the plate’s set before you.”
Pippin sighed. “Please leave me be, Frodo.”
Frodo reached out and took Pippin’s hand, holding tighter when Pippin tried to pull it away.
“You did nothing wrong, Pippin. We wouldn’t have gotten through Moria without a fight. I’m surprised we got as far as we did unnoticed.”
“Did Merry send you over to talk to me?”
“He’s worried about you. We all are. We don’t blame you for what happened to Gandalf. The Dark Forces took him, the same Dark Forces that would take any one of us, if given the chance.”
“Especially with me around to help out.”
“Pippin –”
“You can’t say anything to change my mind, Frodo. Please just leave me be.”
With a sigh, Frodo let go of his hand.
“I need you here,” he said, with as much feeling as he could muster.
“Sure you do.”
Frodo stood, and went back to Merry and Sam. They knew what had happened without asking. Merry ached to go to Pippin and hold him, just as he had when they’d first emerged from Moria, but knew it wouldn’t be welcome. He hung his head, waiting in silence until they set out again.
******************
“You’re lagging behind, little one. We may lose you if you’re not careful.”
Boromir, about ten paces ahead, pausing to wait for Pippin.
“Are you tired? Do you want to ride on my back for a while?”
“No,” Pippin replied, passing by the tall man.
Ahead he could see the rest of the Fellowship, and one of the smallest figures glanced back, Merry, looking for him. Aragorn was in the lead, while Legolas and Gimli walked with the Hobbits. And beyond them, a great forest began. Even from this distance Pippin
could tell the trees were much larger than anything that grew in the Shire, or even in Rivendell.
“Lothlorien,” Boromir said. “A place of great enchantment, so they say. A place where fates are revealed. I am uneasy, coming here.”
“Why?”
“Perhaps I don’t want to know my fate. Perhaps I’ll learn that I’ll fail the company.”
Pippin stopped, looking up at his companion.
“Fail? How?”
“Gondor…” Boromir began, but stopped. “The Elves,” he said instead, “believe Men are weak. Men have failed Middle Earth once before. And now, we are pledged to protect a Hobbit Ringbearer, a creature we could easily defeat, taking the Ring once again for ourselves.”
There was a gleam in Boromir’s eyes that made Pippin take a step back.
“But we will do no harm to Frodo,” Boromir continued, “if only to prove we can be as strong as the Elves. Or even as you, little one.”
“Me?”
They started walking again.
“Yes, you. Surprised? Tell me, Pippin, have you any desire to see the Ring, touch it, hold it?”
Pippin shook his head.
“Well, the rest of us have, even Legolas, I would wager. But you Hobbits, I believe that you have not. And that is your strength. You desire no more than what you have, and you are here only out of your affection for Frodo and Sam. The true hope of this quest lies in you, little one.”
The rest of the company had paused now, waiting for them to catch up. Pippin glanced thoughtfully at Boromir, then looked at Merry, giving him a small smile which Merry returned ten-fold.
“All right, Pip?” Merry asked.
“Maybe,” Pippin replied.
Boromir patted him on the head, and moved up to join Aragorn and Legolas. Pippin watched after him, then looked at his three friends, something of his usual cheer returning to his expression.
“Are we nearly there?” he asked.
“The forest starts in half a mile,” Frodo replied.
“Another half mile until dinner? I won’t make it.”
Merry laughed and put his arm around Pippin. “I’ll hold you up, Pip.”
They started forward again.
“Do you think they’ll serve those little white cakes, like they did in Rivendell?” Pippin asked.
“I don’t know,” Merry answered.
“Or maybe those cheesy buns, or that beer – what did they call it? I can’t remember, but it was good beer.”
“Yes, Pippin.”
Merry squeezed him, heart jumping when he felt an arm slip round his waist. They looked at each other, exchanging a secretive smile, then Pippin pulled away, breaking into a run, racing towards the trees.
“I’ll beat you all!” he shouted, passing the big folk.
Soon everyone was running, and they entered the forest of Lothlorien.
THE END