Ever Onward
Disclaimer: If you recognize it then I don't own it. A mix of movie and book
A/N: For Whumptober 2022 #9 The very noisy night- caught in a storm
Pippin began to hum as the fellowship began to ascend the towering mountain.
"What song is this?" Boromir asked.
"Something that cousin Frodo made up when we first began our journey."
Pippin sang to him The Road Goes Ever On And On.
"It is not a very encouraging song."
"That's what I told him."
They fell into silence as the path steepened before them, taking their breath and concentration to navigate.
"I thought the road went on forever long before I knew of this dreadful mountain," Pippin panted.
"Just keep walking down the path by putting one hairy foot in front of the other," Boromir encouraged.
"Frodo said Bilbo used to talk of feet on paths and being swept away if one wasn't careful," Pippin's big tired feet stumbled over a rock on the path.
A large hand reached out to steady his fatigued little form, "If you are not careful you will be swept off this mountain." Boromir left his hand on the youngest hobbit's shoulder until he was sure he was once more steady on his feet.
"Will you teach me more fighting when we get down from here?" Pippin asked out of the blue. His mind had been busy as he climbed. He avoided looking up at the towering peaks, instead he focused on when they would finally climb down on the other side. The rest of their journey would surely not be as bad as this.
"I don't know?" Boromir smirked, "Are you going to kick me again?"
They both gave breathless little laughs.
The company plotted along upwards when the sky decided to open upon them.
"Good heavens!" Pippin cried, grabbing Boromir's arm, "Look at all that snow."
The storm's temporary respite while they stopped, so the big people could discuss the new development, was almost enough to give them hope. If one ignored the grave talking of the long reach of their enemies happening up front. Pippin had never had an enemy before he left home. There were hobbits he disliked, such as the Sackville Baggins, but no true enemies. He watched the flakes falling in wonder. Sam was right, back home the snow would have been much enjoyed. He had to grip his hands together tightly to keep them from forming a snowball to lob at his fellows. The temptation was strong but he had fought hard to be among them, he did not want to be thought unfit to be there with them.
The party moved on once more. The growing blizzard made it harder to see their companions and keep them together. The youngest hobbit was especially finding it hard to keep up. Boromir brought up the rear to keep the straggling hobbit moving in the right direction.
"Elrond was right, I never would have imagined this," Pippin squinted through the blizzard trying to see the mountain peak that was bent on destroying them from off its face.
"Would you have come if you had known?"
Pippin hesitated, deep in thought, "We hobbits stick together, you know."
"So I have seen," Boromir waited to see if the young hobbit would say more, "You are remarkable folk. To come so far, through so much."
"Merry told Frodo that we would stick with him through thick and thin. Even to the bitter end." Pippin craned his neck to look up into the eyes."I intend to. Elrond wanted me to stay behind in Rivendale."
"I don't think many can make you do what you do not wish to do, Master Took," Boromir couldn't contain the chuckle that rose up in his throat. He nudged the shivering halfling forward, following closely behind his slow trudging steps through the growing snow. He would plow ahead of him, creating an easier path, if he wasn't so worried about losing him in the storm. It was best to keep the halflings where he could see them.
Pippin was dragging behind the others. He had never been so cold in his life. Not even when he had fallen through the partially frozen Brandywine river when he had gone out on a dare a few years before. He had been promptly fished out, warmed up, and thoroughly chastised by his dear cousin, Merry. He was cold only for as long as it took to get his stripped before a large fireplace at Brandybuck Hall. Merry had told him how foolish he had been while he cuddled him close. It hadn't been so bad. What he wouldn't give for that fire now.
The four halflings were practically crawling, they were bent so low against the storm. Boromir didn't think he could go on; he didn't know how the little folk were even still moving forward. The line of weary travelers came to a grinding halt. The wind brought whispers and sounds of breaking rock to their frozen ears. The voices on the wind worried the man of Gondor more than the storm itself, they needed to stop before their enemy brought the mountain down of their heads.
"We cannot go further tonight," Boromir's booming voice broke through Pippin's daze. His numb feet had been moving on their own accord as his mind froze within his head. No thought but to continue forward. He struggled to follow the arguing about the enemy attacking them with a mountain once more. He didn't care about that anymore he just wanted to stop moving and be warm once more.
"But what can we do?" Pippin leaned heavily on his older cousins, shivering violently. His legs felt like jelly and were unable to support his weight any longer. His cousins shuffled him over to the cliffside. The four hobbits huddled together with steadfast Bill in front of them, guarding them against the storm to the best of his abilities. Pippin sat shivering in a half-aware state. His muddled mind often drifted away from the cliff and back home. His sisters, parents, and all the comforts of home teased at him. Promises of warmth and the lack of hardship if he just gave in and let go completely. If he would just forget his quest and go home where it was safe and warm. His body shifted uncomfortably in the growing snow nest surrounding him. Its icy touch refused to release him from its hold. He was trapped.
Pippin's body went limp in the snow drift growing around his frozen form. A large hand gripped him by the scruff of his shirt and pulled him lose of the snow pile. He wriggled weakly in the hold, feeling like a disobedient pup caught doing something bad. He wanted to be free of the icy hold on him.
"Be still, little one," Boromir soothed. He didn't place the lethargic hobbit back into his snow prison. Instead, he held him close to his side. Pippin sat within his grip shivering quietly for some time as he came back to his senses slowly as the shared body heat warmed him just a little.
"Boromir?" Pippin asked through chattering teeth not entirely sure how he had come into the big person's arms.
"There he is," Boromir smiled and tousled his wet half-frozen curls, "Back among us."
"Where did I go?" Pippin mumbled weakly.
"Nowhere I couldn't follow and bring you back among your fellow hobbits," Boromir promised.
"Alright," Pippin agreed sleepily, snuggling closer to the man's side, "Thank you for finding me."
He was drifting off again when he felt Boromir call out into the storm, "We cannot stay here. This will be the death of the hobbits."
