Another dark night, another bitter wind, another bad dream. Heart pounding, hands sweating, and body tossing and turning. The sound of shattered glass pierced the stillness. The eyes of a hobbit snapped open, bloodshot and weary with sleep and troubled dreams. Shards of clear broken glass lay scattered on the floor. A water pitcher beside his bed had broken, a gift from his father, Thain Paladin Took. This wasn't the first time he'd broken something as he thrashed in his vivid nightmares. Pippin sighed audibly and then rolled back into the warmth of his covers. Sleep crept slowly upon him, like a cat stealthily hunting its prey in the night. Hours later, the early morning gold of the sun pierced the hobbit's eyes, burning them behind their closed lids. Time to get up his mind thought, as his stomach rumbled for breakfast.
Pippin looked out the window. It was such a beautiful day. Shades of palest blue delicately tinged the sky, and the sun sparkled down on the various Hobbit holes in the Shire. Soft green grass swayed in the gentle breeze, and flowers were sticking up their bright heads everywhere. But yet, despite the beauty, he couldn't help remembering. In spite of himself, the old darkness returned to his mind… The fateful day when Frodo had agreed to destroy the Ring, the fear behind his trembling words, yet the incredible courage shining through his eyes. Pippin's mind wandered over many things: being captured by Uruk-hai, meeting Treebeard, and becoming a Guard of the Citadel in Minas Tirith. And then the hours of waiting, not knowing if his friends were alive or dead, hoping, always hoping, in a land that felt beyond hope. And then came the tears, coating his face with their warmth. Would he ever see his friends again, would he ever see his dear cousin Frodo? The doubts nagged at him as if he were still on the other side of the city walls, watching hideously mangled heads being thrown over the edge.
Two little hobbit lads ran through a field of flowers, imaginary swords (sticks) in hand. A sigh escaped Pippin's lips. He could almost see shades of himself, Frodo, and Merry doing the same thing so long ago. The thought was both bitter and sweet. His thoughts drifted to the past for a while, remembering his countless escapades with his friends. Pippin's eyes fell on a flower in his garden of a particular deep blue. The beauty of it pierced his heart. It was the same unusual colour of his cousin's eyes. He still couldn't believe that Frodo had gone. He kept half-expecting him to show up on his doorstep for tea and cakes like he used to in the old days.
Peregrin remained in contemplation for a few more moments. Then he grabbed his walking stick and stepped outside. Today was a fine day for a morning walk. Warm sunlight fell on Pippin's face, invigorating him. He had started walking slowly, but soon he'd moved into his familiar jaunting pace. Many hobbit lads and lasses greeted him as he passed. He had become quite a famous warrior in the Shire. And indeed, he struck quite a figure, with his bright Gondorian mail reflecting the sun and a grey Elven cloak fluttering upon his back. He smiled and waved back, making sure to talk to everyone. Though he had changed and matured from his experiences on the Quest, he still retained much of his former character traits. Indeed, his mirth was well known, and his smile lightened the heart of everyone it touched. But still, hidden underneath all the layers of joy and happiness that had been a part of him since birth, there lingered a deep sorrow, Around every bend, he kept on expecting to see a curly head of brown hair, hear a fair voice calling his name, and see the sun shining out of an exquisite sea of blue. He couldn't let go of Frodo, of all his memories, all the time they had spent together. How could he? The two cousins had once spent so much time together that they could almost read one another's thoughts. Indeed, they were very close, and Pippin had unwrapped all the layers and shown the core of his tender young heart to Frodo. Those were happy times…
He had walked some time when he saw a figure approaching on the path. His eyes could not be mistaken. It was Samwise Gamgee. Pippin quickened his pace and walked to his friend. He stopped. What was Sam doing in Tuckborough? Then he looked around and realized he was all the way in Hobbiton. He'd gotten so lost in his thoughts that he walked further than he knew.
"Why, Sam! It's so good to see you! Don't tell me the illustrious Mayor Samwise has taken to delivering mail?" he said, glancing down at the envelope in Sam's hand.
"Well, I was just on my way to taking this to you, Pip. It's from Mr. Frodo," Sam replied, with a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"Don't tell me that Frodo can mail a letter from the Undying Lands?!" laughed Pippin, with a wistful look upon his face.
At this comment Sam looked so flustered that Pippin couldn't help but wrap his arms around him in a big hug.
"Well, Frodo addressed this to you, and I know he meant you to have it. I was cleaning through his drawers and I found this hiding in the back. I don't know how I missed it before," the mayor answered, handing Pippin the letter.
Pippin held the cream colored envelope tightly. Scrawled across the front was: "Mr. Peregrin Took" in Frodo's firm handwriting.
"Thanks, Sam. I have no idea what it could be. Want to come look at it with me over at the Green Dragon? I hear the ale is especially good this year."
"I'd like to," his friend answered. "But, well, the missus needs me at home. Spring-cleaning and all. She told me to hurry back."
"I see," Pip said with a twinkle in his eye "Far be it from me to interfere with a happily married hobbit couple. Have fun. I think I shall head up to the Green Dragon for an ale. Goodbye, Sam."
"Bye, Pippin," said Sam, and the two hugged again.
Several minutes later found Pippin in a dark corner of the Green Dragon Inn. A half-empty pint of ale sat in front of him, and a tall white candle cast a pale light around him. Wax dripped onto the table, but the hobbit took no notice. He was totally engrossed with the fancy notepaper lying in front of him.
He held a small rectangular card in his hand, which read: Dearest cousin and friend, mere words cannot express the joy your love and friendship and laughter brought me over the years. But I tried to show you how I feel with this poem. I shall miss you.
All my Love,
Frodo
Inside the envelope was an elegant piece of stationary, marked at the top with a big B, the Baggins family logo. It read:
I know I did not ask you,
To come on this dark journey with me.
But you responded by coming too,
With a loyalty that warmed my heart to see.
As I sail now to the Western Shore,
Do not think that I will remember you no more.
Your laughter brought me joy in my darkest days,
And the hope shining in your eyes helped me escape my shadowy haze.
You don't ever have to change,
And don't let anyone tell you that you do.
Keep your crystal spirit forever,
And let the light of your mirth shine through.
You adventurous Fool of a Took,
I will remember you all of my days.
And in the Undying Lands of the Elves,
I will tell of your heroism always.
Peregrin, son of Paladin,
A true hero you are indeed.
You were a soldier more valiant than many Men,
Who always helped those in need.
As I toiled through the wastes of Mordor,
Your laughter filled my thoughts.
Memories of your joy, sunshine, and the Shire,
Made me remember just what I was on my Quest for.
Remember, Pippin, when we came back to the Shire?
There was destruction all around.
You rounded up hobbits from far and wide,
And led them in standing our ground.
On the day you were born I held you in my arms,
I couldn't believe you were so fair.
You opened your mouth and blinked your eyes,
And laughter spilled out for all to hear.
And so as I go on this journey,
My kinsman, my brother, my friend.
I will think of you every day and night,
Until journey's end.
The other night I saw a shooting star,
Sparkling bright like your joyful spirit.
Every night when a star catches my eye,
I'll know you're near me.
With Love,
Frodo Baggins
It would be hard for anyone to recognize Sir Peregrin Took after he had finished reading the poem. Crystal tears streamed unashamedly down his face, but a soft and gentle light filled his eyes. His whole face looked as if he'd been set alight by something within him. Several teardrops fell on the paper, slightly smearing the ink. As different customers said their farewells to him, all that could be heard coming out of his mouth was, "Frodo, my dear poor Frodo."
Later that night Pippin was still going over the poem in his head. He sat on his bed and looked around his room wearily. Pieces of cracked glass, left behind from the previous night, reflected the rosy glow of sunset. On impulse, Pippin picked one up and walked over to the window, holding it to the light. The edges were sharp against his fingers, but the light of the sun caused the glass to shine brilliant rainbows of colour. The beauty of it filled Pip's heart. He thought it truly amazing that something so rough and ugly on the edges could be a source of such splendour. Pippin saw in the damaged piece of glass a center of great beauty and joy that was not affected by the sharply broken edges. He continued to stare at it, amazed at the play of light. As he watched the spectrum of colours, it brought to mind someone he had noticed long ago.
A gentle girl with a warm heart, a halo of golden hair, and ripples of fair clear laughter. Her name fit the precious stone that shone transparent in one light, yet shot out rainbows of coloured light in the sun. It had set off a little spark within him that would cause a change much like the first little stone falling in a pool creates a ripple. The reading of Frodo's poem had caused a dawning realization deep in his core. He'd never fully picked up the pieces of his life after Frodo's departure. He had reckoned his cousin's journey was the path to death. How could he live without one of his dearest friends? But there was life and hope after all. He had so many opportunities he had not seized, due to his experiences in the war.
Later that year, the honorable Thain Peregrin Took and Diamond of Long Cleeve were wed upon a green hill at sunset. Rose petals of all hues flew down around them. Pippin could never remember being so happy before. He looked up at the sky and beheld a bright silver star. Raising his glass, he said, "For Frodo."
Years later Frodo's poem hung framed on the wall. Faded tearstains still shone on the surface. And in the frame, near the end of the poem, a shard of glass hung by a faded ribbon.