Véra i
Árë
I had never expected things to
get so out of hand. But I had been saying that since day one,
since the day Bilbo left and I realised that life had
changed.
Blasted Ring. Blasted orcs,
blasted spider, blasted Gollum...
I stared at myself in the
mirror. I was the same, yet not. Something stirred in the
depths of my eyes that I gazed at for a long time, the blue
crashing and writhing like waves against the Western shores,
like some sort of creature in pain. Then I couldn't see.
Whatever was there blurred and faded as the tears came
crashing down my face; warm, salty, liquid sadness.
I sneered in contempt at
myself, such poetic nonsense. Shaking my head, I gazed out
the window. Overcast day...I shivered involuntarily and made
my way outside. What was I going out for...? I was sure I'd
remember as I started walking.
Inhaled, shakily. It's no
good making a complete fool of yourself outside where half of
blessed Hobbiton will be witness to it, I told myself
harshly, and walked out, eyes blurry, head pounding. I felt
so tired, so inexplicably tired. I had since the
moment I had woken up, not too long ago.
"Frodo!"
I turned, surprised, and found
Pippin running towards me, out of breath, looking quite
comical. The dark-blonde curls stuck to his forehead with
sweat, and he was gasping for air like a drowning man. A
smile desperately tried to touch my face, but it just
wouldn't happen.
"Pippin...are you all
right?"
My cousin tumbled to a stop in
front of me, breathing heavily. "Been looking...for
you...all over."
I blinked. "This
early?"
Pippin raised an eyebrow and
made a face. "Early? My dear cousin, it is now one in
the afternoon. Don't tell me you've been sleeping this whole
time?"
One o'clock? Impossible...I
rubbed my eyes tiredly, sighing. "I suppose I
have."
He grinned wickedly.
"Late night?"
"Not like that," I
said weakly, not even finding the strength to feel even
slightly embarrassed. "I was awake, thinking--"
"Isn't it a tad too late
to be taking up new hobbies?" I gave him a look, and he
burst out laughing. "Lighten up! Surely there's..."
He drifted off, staring at me, concern in his grey-blue eyes.
"Frodo? What's wrong?"
I blinked once again, taken
aback. Did I look that haggard, tired, and ill? Did I look as
I felt?
"Nothing, what on earth
do you mean?"
Pippin frowned. "Don't
lie to me," he said, his voice low, and I was again
shocked. "It's all over your face, cousin. You
look--"
"I know, I know, I
know," I sighed, deflating a little. "Tired.
Broken. Sick. So on?"
"I take it someone's told
you the same things lately...?"
"Only my reflection in
the mirror."
He clicked his tongue against
the roof of his mouth. "For once, the mirror hasn't
lied."
I shrugged miserably.
"There's little I can do."
Pippin half-grinned. "I
daresay you'll feel better after a little Bucklebury
wine." I smirked.
"That's why you trekked
all the way to Hobbiton on such a day, Peregrin? To raid my
wine cellars?"
"That, and ask if you
plan to do anything for your birthday this year," he
laughed, turning me around and walking me back to Bag End.
"But the wine shall come first, I think."
"Pippin, you are impossible."
"I am rather, aren't I?
*............*............*
Pippin hiccupped
as he set his glass down and poured himself another.
"Bloody good," he declared softly.
"Mmm,"
I answered absently. I hadn't taken a sip of mine, favouring
staring out the window and entertaining the unwelcome
thoughts over drinking.
"It is
very good," Pippin said, waving his hand in front of my
face. "Or so I'm told."
"Eh? Oh, I'm
sorry, Pippin, I must have drifted off..."
A sly grin
crossed his face. "Someone on your mind?"
"Eh?" I
blinked. "S...someone?!"
His grin only
grew wider. "Come now! You can tell me. Plus, you have
been eyeing Lila Sandydowns from Bywater."
"I, I!"
I flushed. "I have done no such thing!"
"Yes, you
have!" Pippin tipped his head back and laughed.
"It's the talk of the town."
My face grew warm
at the mention of the dark-haired girl with the shy smile who
I had, admittedly, been thinking about lately. Beautiful, she
was...but...
I grinned weakly.
"Surely not."
"Yes, it is!
She's probably waiting with bated breath for you to make a
move, cousin." He raised a knowing eyebrow.
"I
know..." I murmured, feeling my strength sapped away
from me. How I would love to speak with Lila, to gaze into
her striking eyes. To exchange a smile, and perhaps later, a
ring. An innocent ring, and live happily ever after...wasn't
that the way the heroes of adventure stories were supposed to
live? Not wait until they were worn down, soul-scarred and
bone weary, sleeping to escape reality, which hurt like the
deepest of wounds--
And tears
gathered beneath my eyelids and began rolling down my face
again. I hiccupped, trying to stop them, only making more
flow out of sheer frustration at being unable to control
myself.
"Frodo!"
Pippin's voice sounded horrified, and all in a moment his
arms were around me, trying to comfort me. "What on
earth is wrong?"
I tried to speak,
but my words came out as a gasp and a ragged sob. I pressed
my fingers to my eyelids in a vain attempt to slow the tears.
Soundlessly, the sobs wracked my body. It was awful; as soon
as I had allowed the misery release, it consumed me wholly.
"Oh,
Frodo," Pippin murmured mournfully, and cradled me close
in a brotherly embrace. "I am so sorry..."
I waited until my
sobs had calmed somewhat. "It's not you."
Pippin stared
into my eyes, his gaze concerned. "What is it?"
I shook my head.
"I...I cannot say."
"Try."
"The Ring.
Everything that has happened."
My cousin
hesitated. "It's passed, Frodo. It's all right, don't
dwell on it--"
"I
can't," I said helplessly, and my eyes must have
communicated something to him. "I try, Pippin, dear God,
I do try. But it is all-consuming. As each day passes, the
memories become more clear, when they should fade. And it
hurts, worse than any other thing I have ever felt."
Pippin was silent
and motionless for a moment, then spoke up quietly.
"I suppose,
dear Frodo, that the Ring may have something to do with that.
But...please believe me when I say that I understand how you
feel. At least, on some level."
"How could
you possibly?!" I said, tears of outrage burning in my
eyes again.
He grasped my
hand desperately. "Denethor, burning on his pyre, his
last cries...they still haunt my dreams. Looking up at the
sky, thinking that all was lost, I can still feel that. It
hurts me as everything you saw hurts you."
I hung my head in
shame. How could I have thought that I was the only one that
felt this horrid pain? Dear Pippin...all he had been through,
how could I? I grasped the white stone around my neck so
tightly that the edges cut into my palm. Arwen had said that
it might heal my pain...
"I've felt
the same," Pippin said gently. "Please...don't
think you're alone. And don't let this hurt your entire life.
You have the future, cousin. So go on! Take dear Lila by the
hand, think of excuses to get out of my coming-of-age
party--"
I bit my lip,
hard, and he trailed off. Silence billowed in the room.
"Frodo,"
Pippin said brokenly, the silence shattering. "You're
leaving us, aren't you. You plan to take Arwen's place when
Elrond leaves Middle-earth."
"I..."
I looked up, not knowing what to say. "I am wounded, and
it will never heal..."
The look on
Pippin's face almost broke my already bleeding heart. A
single tear rolled down his face, and fell onto the tabletop,
sparkling in the afternoon sunlight.
"Don't
go," he beseeched. "Please, Frodo. Please."
"I
must," I whispered hoarsely. "With every passing
day..."
"Oh, I
know," he said, laughing shortly at himself. "I
know...I just...I just wish..."
We exchanged a
glance, and Pippin's face crumbled and he buried his face in
his hands, silently weeping, or trying to compose himself, I
couldn't tell. I clutched the white stone in my hand and
closed my eyes.
"When are
you leaving?" His soft question made me look up. His
eyes were red, but he wasn't crying.
"Next
year," I murmured. "About this time."
"You'll miss
my coming-of-age."
"Damn it,
Pippin, don't you think I know that? Don't you realise how
much this hurts?"
"I suppose
so." His voice was very small.
I sighed.
"I'm sorry..."
"Don't be.
It's all right."
"It's not,
you know."
"Well...maybe
not. But I'll say it is."
We shared a shaky
smile, and lapsed into a silence which seemed absolutely
deafening, each of us busy with his own thoughts. I cursed
myself inwardly; I hadn't meant for any of my friends to have
known, least of all Sam, Merry, or poor Pippin.
"You...you
have a year yet. Before you leave," Pippin spoke up.
I nodded slowly.
"Yes, that's true."
"So...at the
risk of sounding overly emotional...I'm going to make the
absolute most of it, my dear cousin." I blinked at him.
He nodded in response to my questioning look. "I mean
it. The time for crying isn't now; I'll have plenty of tears
for when the time comes. But for now...well, véra i
árë."
"Véra...seize
the day," I translated slowly. "That's Quenya,
isn't it?" He nodded.
"If it's
only a year we have, my dear Frodo, I daresay we had better
make the most of things now."
I smiled slowly,
my first true smile in a long time. "Indeed."
"And you can
start," Pippin said, pushing my still-full glass towards
me. "By drinking the rest of that. Goodness knows, the
vintage on it has probably increased by now."
I laughed, and
raised my glass.
"Véra i
árë."
"Véra i
árë," Pippin agreed, and drained his glass.
******
A/N: Véra i árë literally translates to "own the
day", which is the best thing I could come up with in
Quenya as a match to our "carpe diem", seize the
day ^^;