The Thain and his wife had cried or happiness when their son, who they thought dead, returned after a year. Peregrin Took told them, with little detail of darker days, of what happened on the journey, yet Eglantine hid that she thought it was not all that she wanted to know. It takes her a while until she decides that she has to be confided with the information.

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It was a year after Frodo Baggins had left to the West, and Pippin was 32 years old, turning an adult the following year. He hadn't changed much, let alone realising danger quicker, but even if only a very little bit, some of his cheerful, carefree self disappeared too.

It was a usual Thursday evening, around nine o'clock. Pippin was staying at the Smials for a few weeks. Eglantine heard him enter the kitchen, she looked around and her son stood there, looking a little tired.

"Peregrin," she said kindly, "are you hungry?"

"Well, I already ate, but, sure, why not?" he replied with a small grin.

His mother smiled, taking out some reasonably fresh scones from a cupboard. Pippin took two and started nibbling on one of them.

Eglantine hesitated a little, unsure if she should disturb him, as she was watching him eat. "Peregrin, I'd like to know, with full detail, of your journey of a year," she paused a little, listening if he was going to interrupt, but she did not look at him. "I just feel like I need to know, I felt you did not reveal all that you could."

Pippin had stopped eating, and was staring at the table. He started to bite at his lower lip, and then stopped. He shook his head a little, and went back to eating.

"Pippin, please," Eglantine pleaded.

Pippin put down his scone. "Why?"

"WHY? What sort of question is that?" she cried. "A mother needs to know what happened to their child, after you were not an adult, and you still are not! You may not see why it is of such importance to me, but if you will have children once, you'll understand!"

Pippin looked into Eglantine's eyes, and saw his mother's pain of necessity of information.

He sighed and said, "Maybe some other time."

"My dear lad, I've waited for three years to ask this," Eglantine said, "and I am afraid that I cannot wait any longer. If I will the missing necessary detail will start to consume me, and I will break myself trying not to think of it."

"Mother..." Pippin sighed. He knew it's no use. If Eglantine decided that, it will be that way. Mothers had this way of being to such things. It's as bad as dark magic, Pippin thought to himself.

"Please," her eyes begged.

So Pippin started going into more aspects of the Ringwraiths, the Mines of Moria, the days spent captive with uruk-hai. The cold sweeping feeling the Ringwraiths' presence brought; the dark damp halls, and eternal waiting to get out; the cruel tight bonds and the smell.

Eglantine's eyes were steady, full of concern, looking hard, not wanting him to stop. She was a little paler when it got to part where he and Merry had been captured.

Pippin had been talking for at least an hour. He was standing behind the chair, his hands on the border of the table, leaning on it. "And after we left Isengard..." his voice trailed off.

"Then what?" Eglantine spoke for the first time.

Pippin didn't speak.

"Peregrin? Pip?" she asked.

Pippin knuckles where white. He was shaking, his eyes staring ahead. "Don't make me," he said, barely making a sound.

"My dear- Are you sick?" Eglantine said uneasily, fear in her voice. She rubbed his arm carefully. "Do you feel bad?"

Pippin did not answer.

"Come, sit down," his mother said, pulling out another chair. She tried to move him, pushing him a little towards the seat.

Pippin did not budge. He did not react at all. His eyes had closed.

Eglantine was terrified – what was wrong with Pippin?

Then, Eglantine Banks, wife of the Thain, never saw, heard, or remembered ever again.

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A/N: Will post next chappy as soon as possible. PLEASE REVIEW.