Disclaimer:
The lord of the rings belongs to Master Tolkien, I merely wish to borrow them to play. ^^
This is my first Lotr fanfic and I must say it really was quite difficult to write them the way I imagined them in my mind…. I'm not at all sure I succeeded but I greatly enjoying setting those two in action. Luv to Pippin and Gandalf, one couldn't wish for more interesting characters to write about! Oh, I should mention this here I think: English is not my mother language so please, bear with me for mistakes.
Enjoy!
A Courage unmatched
Pippin stumbled across the white streets of Gondor the words he had uttered not more than half an hour ago echoing in his mind.
Flashback:
"My Lord, you cannot mean that! Please, you cannot speak of Lord Faramir with such disgust and derision; he is your son for Eru's sake!" The moment the angry words had left the young hobbits mouth he had regretted ever uttering them.
Oh, why do I never seem to be able to control this lose mouth of mine?!
But despite this inner scowling of himself, Pippin knew his words to be true. He felt it with his very soul. It was something that had to be said or otherwise – that way he felt – he would have broken into a million little pieces!
For what seemed like hours his new master had spewed insults about his oh so unworthy son, had said things no father should even contemplate in regard to his heir. It had gone on and on until the brave, foolish hobbit couldn't take it anymore!
Pippin's eyes widened with barely disguised fear when he saw the icy cold anger that glowed in Denethor's dark eyes.
Love for loyalty, honour for fortitude ...punishment for disobedience. That had been Denethor's words when Pippin had taken his oath.
The truchsess of Gondor slowly – painfully so – raised his head from the meal which he had consumed without any conduct or grace prior to Pippin's desperate, angered speech.
"Is that so?" He paused, his withering glare boring into the poor halfling.
"So you forbid me to voice my opinion on my good for nothing son, who is in all probability even incapable of fulfilling the one and only mission I gave him?!" Denethor's raw voice had risen with every syllable becoming an angry hiss at the end.
"So tell me, my loyal servant, what do you have on your mind? Which of my son's many skills and achievements it is that urges you to utter such disrespect to me?" His tone was mocking, laced with heavy sarcasm, daring him to continue while showing every bit of his cold ire.
The poor hobbit swallowed thickly. Seeing his master so cold and yet angry was more terrifying than anything else. He knew, if he spoke now severe punishment would await him but he simply had to pull through!! Pippin held the old man's gaze while sinking to one knee, his decision made.
If defending Lord Faramir and honouring the many sacrifices the brave man had made for his people meant anything to him, there would be no turning back now!
And so Peregrin Took spoke his mind freely to the truchsess paying no heed at all to the punishment he would receive!
End flashback
As the hobbit finally reached the little chamber he and Gandalf shared Denethor's last words came unbidden to his mind again.
"Well, if that is your opinion I cannot believe any longer that you are indeed as loyal to me as you have pledged. A lesson in respect is in order, don't you think?" The words had been cruel and completely aloof sending a violent shiver down the hobbit's spine.
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The old wise wizard sat on a chair by the window smoking his pipe and seemingly deep in thought but for once Pippin paid him no heed. It was difficult enough to remain upright and he was sure that as soon as he spoke to the inquisitive mage he would notice that something was wrong. He always knew when Pip hid something from him.
Gandalf heard the young hobbit's approach and waited for the inevitable greeting by the ever curious lad but nothing came forth. He raised one bushy brow turning his sharp gaze toward his charge only to see something he didn't expect at all:
Peregrin's face was ghostly pale, his gaze far away ... unfocussed and he was stumbling towards his bed without noticing Gandalf's eyes on him at all. With a speed that belied his ancient age he was at Pippin's side, placing a hand on the hobbit's shoulder. The slight tremble he detected worried him a great deal as did the sweat on the young lad's brow.
"Pippin, my lad, what happened to you?" The young hobbit slowly lifted his gaze only barely able to focus on Mithrandir's eyes.
"No... nothing, Gandalf ...everything is fine, really." He said faintly before he stepped away from him and over to his bed. Gandalf knew there was a tale to be told. Something was seriously wrong here. He opened his mouth to voice another question but a detail that he hadn't deemed important earlier now compelled him to remain silent for the moment:
Why was Peregrin wearing his heavy armour? Normally he would take it off in the guard's room after the end of his shift like everyone else.
He didn't have a chance however to address it as Pippin suddenly began to sway on his feet an expression of pain overtaking his pale features.
Pippin felt his legs give way as the pain in his back got too much. Despite the dizziness that assaulted him he was acutely aware of the sensation of the cold metal of his chain mail in direct contact with his skin but above all he wanted to prevent the powerful wizard from finding out what had happened. When Gandalf learned the truth and alleviated the burden he had willingly shouldered, his defence of Faramir would feel half-hearted... untrue even! It would make him seem like a hypocrite in his own eyes.
And so it was with a near silent "Noo...! Not now...!" that the courageous halfling went to his knees.
"Pippin!" he heard Gandalf's shocked voice as if it came from a great distance. Pain overtook his senses even as he felt being caught before he could hit the ground. The pulsating burning in his back pushed him into a state of near unconsciousness leaving him unable to fight.
Gandalf's gnarled face was lined with worry as he looked down upon his young charge.
What had befallen the young fellow normally so full of mischief and curiosity?
No matter how closely he looked, he couldn't find anything wrong... no blood... no obvious wound. So, after carefully carrying Pippin over to his bed he laid his wrinkled hand on the sweat covered brow and let his magic insight discover what his eyes weren't able to. Gently he dove into his young companion's memories coming out again deeply troubled but equally impressed by this hobbit's courage.
Oh, poor lad. So that is what happens when one foolish hobbit tries to do the right thing. Don't worry, Peregrin, despite your apprehension I will do my best to alleviate your suffering... and to encourage you that, for once, you showed insight and bravery normally reserved for beings much wiser and older than you.
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Pippin awoke from his half conscious state with a quiet groan.
"Oh drat, who knew that these...?", he muttered half shocked, half confused while trying to push himself up on his elbows only to be interrupted by the deep, rumbling voice of Gandalf.
"Easy there, master Took. Lie back down and rest your body and set your mind at ease, my lad. It will lessen the pain considerably; believe an old wizard's words on that." Despite the mage's gentle words Pippin startled badly doing exactly the opposite of what the elder had suggested.
"Arrgh!" Pip scrunched his face up and tried to repress emitting further moans of discomfort but his success was limited – well, it was no wonder when one's back was littered with bloody welts!
"Pippin", Came the gentle reprimand. "There is no need to hide your pain; I won't think less of you, my brave hobbit, as I know what and why you did it." Peregrin stared at his mentor completely baffled.
"But, Gandalf, how do you know? I mean... why?" The wizened wizard chuckled while he helped his charge settling back onto the bed.
"Well, there have to be advantages to old age and the ability to wield a little bit of magic, Peregrin." After that his wrinkled face grew stern, the sharp dark eyes acquiring a unique sharpness that brooked no argument. Although there was a gentleness underlining the normally gruff voice of the old wizard he made it very clear that he wouldn't be disobeyed in his next order:
"And now, Pippin, I suggest that you lie still so that I can tend to your wounds. These aren't to be trifled with." Unconsciously Gandalf's gaze darkened when he looked down on the deep welts – most likely inflicted with a switch – that had drawn blood almost in their entirety.
He had known Denethor was capable of many things – good and bad – and had certain privileges as Pippin's master but his treatment of the young well meaning hobbit angered him greatly.
The aforementioned hobbit naturally knew nothing of the troubled thoughts that whirled around in Gandalf's mind so he automatically assumed that the only cause for the darkening gaze was his behaviour.
But he wasn't named a foolish Took for nothing, so despite the white wizard's stern, foreboding gaze he spoke up to stop him from tending to his injuries.
"You can't do this, Gandalf, please! It wouldn't be right... I did it knowing the possible consequences! ... It wouldn't be right! And..., and he is my master, after all and I disobeyed him!" Pippin trailed of, the thought of Denethor making him uncomfortable while knowing at the same time how feeble his arguments sounded. As expected Gandalf shook his head mildly, before fixing his young charge with an intense gaze.
"Oh Pippin, you are a foolish hobbit, indeed. Yes, you disobeyed your master and yes, in all probability you let your emotions overrule any logic thinking, but you did by no means wrong anyone... lest of all the proud, bitter truchsess of Gondor!" Seeing Pippin's doubts weren't completely laid to rest, Gandalf continued while placing a warm hand on the brave hobbit's shoulder.
"It is of no consequence that your suffering will be lightened, my dear boy. It doesn't make your words more or less reliable or credible. What Denethor did was unworthy of a man with his wisdom and experience. He didn't punish you because you proved yourself unfit of serving him but to vent his own anguish about losing his first born son and maybe his kingdom." To his immense relief he saw the life and natural inquisitiveness return to Pippin's face and so to bring back the young lad's good-naturedness completely he added with a low chuckle:
"And most importantly – and admiringly if I might add – you forced an old, conceited man to face some uncomfortable truths that he will hopefully take to heart."
This time, when Gandalf turned toward the basin of water that he had fetched after freeing the poor halfling of the heavy chain mail and guard's uniform, Pippin didn't protest. The only sound that came over his lips were a relieved sigh when his mentor placed a compress soaked in icy cold water on the most severe welts. He knew one thing: He was not at all eager to see his back. Lord Denethor had not allowed him to throw his shirt back on asking coldly instead, if he had left enough honour to bear his chain mail on his bare back. – To remind him of the heaviness of the burden a pledge such as his put a loyal servant's shoulders. The metal had likely only worsened the injuries – that way it had felt, anyway.
Pippin was deep in thought while Gandalf gently and expertly took care of his wounds. Although one or the other hiss of pain escaped his lips as the old wizard disinfected the licks he had to his small back, there was one thought he couldn't get out of his head despite all of Gandalf's comforting words.
He voiced it as the older put a salve on his back that cooled his fiery skin and induced the healing of the many welts.
"Love for loyalty, honour for fortitude... punishment for disobedience", he recited tonelessly and at the same time with a deep sadness in his voice. He turned his head a little bit so that he could see Mithrandir although currently lying on his stomach and found himself face to face with the elder's intense dark eyes.
"Gandalf, why doesn't lord Denethor show the love he proclaims to give for loyalty when his own son is the most loyal man I have ever seen. I mean", he elaborated fearing that Gandalf would think him foolish, if he didn't explain himself in more detail:
"Well, I mean, how can he not see his son's loyalty... how can he not love him when Lord Faramir is willing to face..." Pippin's throat constricted at the words he had wanted to utter but he forced himself to continue even while doing so with his eyes squeezed shut to prevent tears to leak out.
"...When Lord Faramir is willing to face his own... death." He ended in a whisper, searching for answers and comfort in the older one's eyes and sitting up unconsciously in an effort to be nearer to his mentor. The normally gruff features of Gandalf turned soft as he contemplated the young hobbit before him, the ever enquiring brown eyes now sorrowful. Gently he placed one of his age lined hands on Pippin's shoulder.
"What you ask is a question that occupies my mind very often since coming to Minas Tirith and the answer fills me with deep regret. It is my belief that the sheer sadness and bitterness of seeing his beloved son Boromir gone clouds his judgement and turns his heart to stone until... until something happens powerful enough to make him aware of his errors."
At that the brave hobbit looked down dejectedly not able to control his tears anymore. It was after what felt like an eternity that Pippin felt a hand touch his wet cheek.
"Do not lose faith, my dear lad. If anything, your words today have given the truchsess of Gondor a lot to think about and maybe, well maybe one courageous hobbit's words will be enough for him to discover his deeply burrowed heart again. Although he hid it well, that you spoke to him with no heed to the consequences of your actions impressed him. Have faith."
The halfling nodded silently, instinctively leaning his aching, heavy head against Gandalf's robe clad chest. The wizard took it in stride his hand carding through Pip's hair while he rested his bearded chin on top of the unruly mop of hobbit curls.
Pippin didn't know how much time had passed – probably less than he thought – when he heard the deep rumbling voice of Mithrandir near his ear:
"Rest now, my good lad, rest your worries while I guard your sleep." Pippin nodded again, with a small eternally grateful smile this time, and settled on his side as the old wizard tucked a blanket loosely around his small body. The last thing he heard before he sunk into a deep sleep was:
"Yes, that's right. Rest Peregrin, you have some healing to do, after all." A faint smile came to his lips at those familiar words.
No matter how old he would turn or what he had done to land himself in a situation in which he needed care Gandalf always seemed to be there to help him... with all his sternness and gruffness and with his caring heart that shone through the stormy exterior from time to time.
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Well, that's it, I hope I didn't mess up completely with this. ^^" I really tried to make Gandalf... well sound and like Gandalf. Anyway, please tell me what you think! Your Melfis.