Pippin was dying. Or dead. He wasn't sure which. He couldn't feel much,
which he was grateful for, since if he could it would be the weight of the
troll that lay on top of him. He felt strangely detached from reality.
"The eagles are coming!" he thought he heard someone shout. But that was in Bilbo's story, so long ago. So this was how it would end. He wished he could have seen Frodo and Sam again. He remembered the dark rider who had shown tokens of Frodo, but somehow he wasn't sad. He didn't feel anything.
He floated in blackness, unfeeling, unseeing. Then somehow the darkness solidified and he was standing. He still couldn't see, but the darkness seemed familiar.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"In a place which does not truly exist." He heard the voice answer, and knew it. He was in the place of darkness he had been twice before, but this time it was different. He wasn't restrained this time.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"You are not yet ready to know my name," the voice replied as always. This time Pippin had expected the answer to be different.
"Then I never will be ready," he said. "I'm dead."
"Not yet, little prince, not yet." The voice spoke kindly, but it seemed fainter, as if it came from further away.
"Pippin," the voice said again, growing closer, "Pippin." Pippin wondered why the voice was calling to him. "Pippin. Then suddenly he realised it wasn't the voice who spoke, but another just as familiar.
"Aragorn." Pippin opened his eyes to find himself lying on a soft bed, looking up into the face of his friend. Pippin could see the relief on Aragorn's face.
"What happened?" he asked. His body ached all over, and his head felt as though it was filled with fog.
"You almost died, young hobbit." Pippin turned his head to see Gimli standing next to the bed, with Legolas behind him.
"If Gimli had not found you when he did," Aragorn said, "none of my skills would have been any help." Pippin was still confused, thinking over the last thing he could remember.
"What happened to the army?" he asked. Elf, dwarf and man glanced at each other and smiled.
"Perhaps you should see for yourself," Aragorn suggested. He supported Pippin as first he sat up, and then as he stood. Pippin was grateful, as his legs felt as sturdy as if they were made of soup. There was no pain beyond the dull ache that filled every limb, which was surprising. But the hands of a king were the hands of a healer after all, so perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised.
His friends led him across a green field, to where another bed lay beneath a tree. Pippin recognised first Gandalf, who sat at the end of the bed, and then the two small figures who lay in it sleeping. He gave a cry of surprise and delight at seeing the friends he thought he would not see again.
"How." Pippin began, unable to finish the question. Gandalf understood though, for he explained.
"We all saw a shadow rise above Mordor, and then disappear. Sauron. The armies saw the destruction of their leader and our victory was swift. I found these two on Mount Doom, and brought them to Aragorn's healing care." Pippin was filled with such delight he didn't know how to express. One moment all hope seemed lost and he thought he was waiting only for death. Now he learned that they had been victorious, despite the force that had been against them. The emotional onslaught was too much for one who had been living in despair and fear for the past year. He wanted to laugh or shout or something, and found himself breaking down from the confused gladness of it all. From the faces around him, he guessed the others understood, and had felt much the same.
"The eagles are coming!" he thought he heard someone shout. But that was in Bilbo's story, so long ago. So this was how it would end. He wished he could have seen Frodo and Sam again. He remembered the dark rider who had shown tokens of Frodo, but somehow he wasn't sad. He didn't feel anything.
He floated in blackness, unfeeling, unseeing. Then somehow the darkness solidified and he was standing. He still couldn't see, but the darkness seemed familiar.
"Where am I?" he asked.
"In a place which does not truly exist." He heard the voice answer, and knew it. He was in the place of darkness he had been twice before, but this time it was different. He wasn't restrained this time.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"You are not yet ready to know my name," the voice replied as always. This time Pippin had expected the answer to be different.
"Then I never will be ready," he said. "I'm dead."
"Not yet, little prince, not yet." The voice spoke kindly, but it seemed fainter, as if it came from further away.
"Pippin," the voice said again, growing closer, "Pippin." Pippin wondered why the voice was calling to him. "Pippin. Then suddenly he realised it wasn't the voice who spoke, but another just as familiar.
"Aragorn." Pippin opened his eyes to find himself lying on a soft bed, looking up into the face of his friend. Pippin could see the relief on Aragorn's face.
"What happened?" he asked. His body ached all over, and his head felt as though it was filled with fog.
"You almost died, young hobbit." Pippin turned his head to see Gimli standing next to the bed, with Legolas behind him.
"If Gimli had not found you when he did," Aragorn said, "none of my skills would have been any help." Pippin was still confused, thinking over the last thing he could remember.
"What happened to the army?" he asked. Elf, dwarf and man glanced at each other and smiled.
"Perhaps you should see for yourself," Aragorn suggested. He supported Pippin as first he sat up, and then as he stood. Pippin was grateful, as his legs felt as sturdy as if they were made of soup. There was no pain beyond the dull ache that filled every limb, which was surprising. But the hands of a king were the hands of a healer after all, so perhaps he shouldn't be so surprised.
His friends led him across a green field, to where another bed lay beneath a tree. Pippin recognised first Gandalf, who sat at the end of the bed, and then the two small figures who lay in it sleeping. He gave a cry of surprise and delight at seeing the friends he thought he would not see again.
"How." Pippin began, unable to finish the question. Gandalf understood though, for he explained.
"We all saw a shadow rise above Mordor, and then disappear. Sauron. The armies saw the destruction of their leader and our victory was swift. I found these two on Mount Doom, and brought them to Aragorn's healing care." Pippin was filled with such delight he didn't know how to express. One moment all hope seemed lost and he thought he was waiting only for death. Now he learned that they had been victorious, despite the force that had been against them. The emotional onslaught was too much for one who had been living in despair and fear for the past year. He wanted to laugh or shout or something, and found himself breaking down from the confused gladness of it all. From the faces around him, he guessed the others understood, and had felt much the same.