The wedding was the happiest occasion in the Shire since Bilbo and Frodo's birthday party. Tooks, Gamgees, and Brandybucks alike (as well as a few other unrelated families) spent hours dancing, eating, singing, merrymaking, and toasting the bride and groom. But mostly eating.

Pippin, Sam, Rosie, Merry, and Estel were all together at the same table under the pavilion. Their children- who couldn't rightly be considered children anymore but would probably always be thought of as such- were off dancing with each other. Except for Faramir; he and his wife and namesake (the only Big Person at the wedding) stood off to the side, talking quietly. Faramir still wasn't comfortable in the limelight, and if it hadn't been for Goldilocks's and the families' insistence, he probably would have had a wedding made up of only two guests.

"A real shame Mister Gandalf couldn't be here to give us some fireworks," Sam said while munching on cake. There were still fireworks of course, but nothing a hobbit made could ever compete with the work of a great wizard.

For once Pippin was quiet. Quiet and sober, which for him was unusual where a party was concerned. But he wanted to take in every detail of the day so he could remember it. The flowers, the people, the music, the bright sunlight. He danced occasionally, though it made his heart heavy when he saw all the couples together and Goldilocks with her mother. Diamond would have loved this, he thought with a sniff. She would have been over the moon with joy.

Pippin could hardly believe it himself, which was what he said to Merry when his cousin asked if anything was wrong. "I'm not sure I ever believed it would really happen," he said. "Though I hope Faramir never knows it. There were many a time when I thought my son getting married was too much to hope for."

Merry put his arm around his cousin. Unlike Pippin, he had no reservations about getting tipsy. "Course he would. Ne'er doubted him for a second."

Estel rolled her eyes and tugged on her husband's ear, but Pippin just smiled. "How are you feeling, Sam?" he asked. The poor hobbit had burst into tears as he'd walked his daughter down the aisle, and after the ceremony was over, he'd pulled both the bride and groom into an enormous hug that was so tight Pippin had wondered if he'd ever let go.

Sam nodded soberly. "I'm feeling all right, Mister Pippin. Was a bit sad earlier- I love my little lass more than anything- but now I'm happy. She's with a good hobbit."

"I suppose you had better stop calling us Mister, seeing as we're now related," Pippin said.

Sam shook his head. "Old habits die hard, sir." Pippin gave him a look and Sam shrugged sheepishly. "See what I mean?"

Merry patted him on the back. "We already considered the Gamgees family; it was only a matter of time before it became official."

Everyone drank to that and soon another fast song began and they got up to dance, absorbing the joy in the air. There was only one factor that dampened Pippin's excitement. He could feel it when he sat down and when he stood up. He could feel it when he walked and when he tried to grasp silverware with his fingers.

He was old. Older than he had hoped to be when Faramir got married. To be sure, he was still able-bodied and certainly hadn't aged as much as Sam and Merry, poor lads, but his hair didn't have much brown left and his face had become lined in the past few years. At the moment, he could still walk without help, but he knew that in a few years, he would likely lose that ability.

Pippin knew he must make his last journey before it was too late.

Faramir was heartbroken. "Why?" he asked over and over again. "There is no need for you to go to Gondor. Your family has greater need of you than anyone there."

His words were wasted. Pippin's bags were packed, his horse was saddled, and his mind was made up. "I do not wish to die in the Shire, Faramir. It's been too many years since I have seen the mountains and magnificent towers of Gondor and my friends in Rohan, and if I wait much longer I will not have the strength to make the journey."

"But I need you!"

Pippin smiled and enveloped Faramir in a hug. "But you don't, my son. You don't need me. You've become a far greater hobbit than I ever was, surpassing everyone's expectations of you."

"Including yours?" Faramir asked.

Pippin thought about that. "I will say that although I did not expect you to do as well as you have, I am still not surprised." He smiled. "You are a Took. Willfulness is in your blood, after all."

Faramir gave a watery smile at that but still held on tightly to his father. "I shall miss you so much," he sobbed.

Pippin stroked his hair, pushing back the ache forming in his chest. "I will miss you too." He held Faramir tightly. "I confess I didn't know what I was doing with you half the time, but I did the best I could."

"You did wonderfully, Father." Though Faramir tried not to, he still found tears spilling down his cheeks.

Pippin sighed and kissed his son's cheek, trying unsuccessfully to hide his own tears. "All these years and still you cry when I leave you," he chuckled. "But that's all right."

Faramir sniffed. "When my son is old enough, we will come for a visit." Pippin nodded and said he hoped so, but as he mounted his horse and took up the reins, he knew in his heart that they would not see each other again.

His time as a father had ended, and his son's was just beginning.