When he awoke, he was in one of the spare rooms at Bag End. The one Frodo
had given him for this stay. His first feeling of joy at his return became
one of confusion. How had he got here? Had it just been a dream? It hadn't
felt like a dream at the time, yet here he was, safely back in the Shire
without giving his oath of silence.
He pulled himself out of bed, and looked around. Morning sunlight poured through the open windows, but it was already nearing midday. He went to the door to see where Frodo and Merry were. Still unsure and nervous after his ordeal, he moved down the hall. He tensed as he heard voices, but moving closer he recognised the familiar tones of Gandalf.
".previously overlooked," he was saying.
"No," another person replied, "he was left where he was meant to be found." Pippin froze, recognising the voice as the stern person who had taken charge in. wherever he had been. He screamed, collapsing onto the floor. He didn't want to go back to that place. He didn't want to be back in that darkness.
"Pippin! Pippin!" Voices, calling his name. He felt hands on his arms, and looked up. There were Frodo and Merry, concerned. The hands touching him were those of his friends, giving support. For a moment Pippin relaxed, until he saw who stood behind the hobbits.
It was the man whom he had seen in that black place. The strange image that could be seen without light.
"No!" Pippin cried, trying to pull himself away from him, but his friends' hands were stopping him.
"He's a friend," Frodo was saying, "He's a friend." Pippin shook with terror at the memory of the dark place, and the voices that had assailed him, and struggled against his friends' restraint.
"I will not hurt you," the man said. Pippin stopped struggling. His voice was very like the voice who had spoken to him, but not quite the same. This man's voice was kinder, softer. The man knelt down next to him, kindness shining in his eyes, and Pippin stopped being afraid.
"Aragorn," Pippin murmured, remembering what the voices had said.
"How do you know that name?" the man asked, clearly puzzled.
"We have many questions to ask him, so do not leave him on the floor." Pippin looked up at this new speaker. Gandalf was standing over the little group, and Pippin relaxed again.
He sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and telling them everything that had happened. When he finished, both Gandalf and this stranger, Aragorn, were looking puzzled and thoughtful.
"They called me something while I was there," Pippin said, "and I didn't know what it meant. Ernil i Pheriannath."
"It is in the language of Gondor," Aragorn said, "it means prince of halflings."
"Why would they call me that?" Pippin asked.
"I do not know," Gandalf said, "I do not know who these strange people may be, or how they knew you, but I intend to find out."
"You said that they demanded your silence if you were to be returned?" Aragorn asked, and Pippin nodded. "Yet you haven't been silent on this matter."
"I said that I wouldn't swear any oath, and they returned me anyway."
"Perhaps that was always there intent," Frodo suggested, "they were going to release Pippin whatever happened, but hoped that they could persuade him to swear an oath." Gandalf nodded, and there was a silence as each member of the group thought over the past events. Suddenly a thought occurred to Pippin.
"How long was I their prisoner?" he asked.
"Ten days." But that didn't make sense. Pippin hadn't eaten in all that time, yet now he was no more hungry than if he had only been away the night. And since a hobbit could normally tell the time of day by how hungry he was feeling, this was made even stranger.
"Well, Pippin," Gandalf said at last, "you've given me quite a mystery to solve. So I had best do that." He left that day, and Aragorn left too. Pippin still wasn't sure who this stranger was, or why Gandalf had called him Strider. He was also curious as to why the voices had been interested in him. If they released Pippin because people were looking for him, he would have expected them to be more worried about Gandalf. He also had this nagging feeling about the similarity in voices between Aragorn and the voice in the dark place. Eventually Pippin dismissed the thoughts from his head, since he wasn't likely to encounter either the voices or Aragorn again.
He pulled himself out of bed, and looked around. Morning sunlight poured through the open windows, but it was already nearing midday. He went to the door to see where Frodo and Merry were. Still unsure and nervous after his ordeal, he moved down the hall. He tensed as he heard voices, but moving closer he recognised the familiar tones of Gandalf.
".previously overlooked," he was saying.
"No," another person replied, "he was left where he was meant to be found." Pippin froze, recognising the voice as the stern person who had taken charge in. wherever he had been. He screamed, collapsing onto the floor. He didn't want to go back to that place. He didn't want to be back in that darkness.
"Pippin! Pippin!" Voices, calling his name. He felt hands on his arms, and looked up. There were Frodo and Merry, concerned. The hands touching him were those of his friends, giving support. For a moment Pippin relaxed, until he saw who stood behind the hobbits.
It was the man whom he had seen in that black place. The strange image that could be seen without light.
"No!" Pippin cried, trying to pull himself away from him, but his friends' hands were stopping him.
"He's a friend," Frodo was saying, "He's a friend." Pippin shook with terror at the memory of the dark place, and the voices that had assailed him, and struggled against his friends' restraint.
"I will not hurt you," the man said. Pippin stopped struggling. His voice was very like the voice who had spoken to him, but not quite the same. This man's voice was kinder, softer. The man knelt down next to him, kindness shining in his eyes, and Pippin stopped being afraid.
"Aragorn," Pippin murmured, remembering what the voices had said.
"How do you know that name?" the man asked, clearly puzzled.
"We have many questions to ask him, so do not leave him on the floor." Pippin looked up at this new speaker. Gandalf was standing over the little group, and Pippin relaxed again.
He sat in the kitchen, drinking tea and telling them everything that had happened. When he finished, both Gandalf and this stranger, Aragorn, were looking puzzled and thoughtful.
"They called me something while I was there," Pippin said, "and I didn't know what it meant. Ernil i Pheriannath."
"It is in the language of Gondor," Aragorn said, "it means prince of halflings."
"Why would they call me that?" Pippin asked.
"I do not know," Gandalf said, "I do not know who these strange people may be, or how they knew you, but I intend to find out."
"You said that they demanded your silence if you were to be returned?" Aragorn asked, and Pippin nodded. "Yet you haven't been silent on this matter."
"I said that I wouldn't swear any oath, and they returned me anyway."
"Perhaps that was always there intent," Frodo suggested, "they were going to release Pippin whatever happened, but hoped that they could persuade him to swear an oath." Gandalf nodded, and there was a silence as each member of the group thought over the past events. Suddenly a thought occurred to Pippin.
"How long was I their prisoner?" he asked.
"Ten days." But that didn't make sense. Pippin hadn't eaten in all that time, yet now he was no more hungry than if he had only been away the night. And since a hobbit could normally tell the time of day by how hungry he was feeling, this was made even stranger.
"Well, Pippin," Gandalf said at last, "you've given me quite a mystery to solve. So I had best do that." He left that day, and Aragorn left too. Pippin still wasn't sure who this stranger was, or why Gandalf had called him Strider. He was also curious as to why the voices had been interested in him. If they released Pippin because people were looking for him, he would have expected them to be more worried about Gandalf. He also had this nagging feeling about the similarity in voices between Aragorn and the voice in the dark place. Eventually Pippin dismissed the thoughts from his head, since he wasn't likely to encounter either the voices or Aragorn again.