Merry hugged his little cousin tightly as he cried. Gandalf was no longer with them, flames and shadow had pulled him down into a pit, where a bottom was no where to be seen. All of them broke down in tears, but no one seemed to spill more tears than the youngest member in the company.
"Legolas, get them up!" Aragorn demanded, even if he knew they weren't ready to go yet; he wasn't too. The elven prince struggled to walk, he was totally disoriented. The elf, for once, showed how even he could be torn. He felt like a monster, interrupting their moment of grief, their moment to mourn about the loss of their dear wizard.
"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir protested. He had seen how the halflings reacted, they had known the old man since they were a little, admiring the beautiful fireworks and the tales about Dragons and dwarves Gandalf told them. They had lost a father figure.
"By nightfall it will be swarming with orcs! We must reach the woods of Lothlórien." Aragorn felt bad about this, He was torn to have to do this, but he knew that he had to at some point. His job was to protect his friends, and that was what he was doing.
Boromir knew that it was for their own good, he realised that, but that didn't mean that he like it. He wanted a moment to grief, but he needed to be strong, for them. He would have time when they reached the woods of Lady Galadriel.
"Boromir, Legolas, Gimli, Get them up!" He demanded again, stronger this time.
Merry looked down on his hurt cousin, tears strolled down the boys face, and they didn't seem to stop. He was shaking heavily, and his breath hitched in his throat.
"Pippin, we need to get up." Merry whispered, even though it broke his heart. It was tearing him apart to see Pippin in this state, so broken, torn by grief and guilt. He had never seen him like that, Pippin was a happy, cheery person, not like this. This was the first time that Merry saw his cousin like that. The young Hobbit didn't move, he couldn't. He was limp, and couldn't do anything.
"Pippin, Get up!" Aragorn said once more, not paying attention to the state that the Hobbit was in. Legolas walked over to the two halflings, concern crinkled on his face.
"My Friend?" Legolas called, placing his hand on the Hobbits shoulder, but Peregrin didn't move. He kept sobbing, he was the last person lying on the floor, and he couldn't stand up.
"Get him up! We need to keep moving!" Aragorn hadn't seen the Hobbit, if he would have, than he would have known that it was impossible for him. Pippin couldn't stand up, nor move, nor stop crying, nor being happy. He couldn't flash a smile like he normally would.
"He can't! Haven't you seen him?!" Merry shouted, anger getting the better of him. He was furious at the ranger, how could he look over him like this? Can't he see the pain in his cousin's eyes?
When Aragorn glanced at the Hobbit, he looked away as soon as he could. They would be trapped in an orc attack if they stayed any longer, but he knew that Pippin wasn't ready yet.
"We can't stay any longer. We need to move." He stated, not looking into the Hobbit's eyes. It was cruel, but they couldn't risk being attacked in an orc attack. They just couldn't take that risk.
"We can't leave him behind! He's our family!" Merry shouted, standing up and facing the human. How could he think of leaving him behind? How?
"We can't carry him, Merry. We're all tired." He knew he made a mistake when he said it. It was wrong. He didn't want to leave Pippin behind. He really didn't. He cared about the small Took as if he was his little brother, but he couldn't save everyone, and sacrifices were sometimes needed.
"I'll carry him." Legolas offered, taking the small hobbit in his arms. He was so fragile and thin, abnormally thin. He could feel his ribs through his clothes, he looked at Merry for a moment, who looked at him with confusion. Pippin snuggled closer into the chest of the Mirkwood elf, tears still streaming down his face.
Minutes turned into hours, hours into a day when they arrived in Lothlórien. Pippin still couldn't move and hadn't eaten since, he refused to. Aragorn had realised that this was way more serious than he thought, Pippin seemed to be in some kind Of depression, not eating, not sleeping, not talking, only tears were left.
"He won't talk to me, Legolas. I'm so worried. I want my Pippin back." Merry exclaimed, a single tear streaming down his face. The said elf put an arm round the Hobbit's shoulder, trying to comfort him as much he could.
"I know, Merry. I'll try to talk to him, I want to see him smile, too. Legolas stood up and tried to find the youngest member of the Fellowship. Pippin was deep into the woods, near a small river.
The small Hobbit played with a small dagger in his hands. Blood coloured the river red, and when Legolas noticed the deep cuts on Pippin's wrists, he rushed over to him.
"What has caused you do much pain that you did this to yourself, my friend?" Legolas began, his eyes gazing at the stars above him. The moon lightened up his pale skin, and his hair glistened a ghostly white.
"It's all my fault." Pippin croaked, sobs escaping his mouth. The elf took out his handkerchief and gently cleaned the deep cuts, making sure to stop the bleeding. Legolas looked at Pippin, confusion written over his face.
"I can't follow, little one? What is your fault?" He asked, gently wrapping an arm around Pippin's shoulders, trying to comfort him. Pippin looked up at him, staring in those ice blue eyes.
"Gandalf. He fell because of me! He's dead because of me!" He said, more sobs escaping his mouth.
"Oh, Pippin..." He began, "This wasn't your fault. Gandalf sacrifices himself to save us. You couldn't have prevented it. His faith was written in the stars that shines on us."
"You don't understand, Legolas! I let that thing fall into the pit! We were attacked by orcs because of me! The orcs woke the Balrog, and the Balrog killed Gandalf!" Pippin protested, "It's all my fault!" He cried out again, tears trickling down his cheeks. Legolas pulled him closer to his chest and stroked the young man's golden curls.
"We couldn't have foreseen it, Pippin. We would have somehow awoken the Balrog anyway. Don't blame yourself for something that you did not do. You are so brave, little Hobbit, there is no need to hurt yourself. Put down the blade and take your time to grief for Gandalf. Don't hurt yourself again, you are to good for that."
They sat there for hours on, till Pippin's red and puffy eyes finally closed, and he drifted Of in the dreamless sleep he so desperately needed.