Disclaimer: I own none of the following characters or the world in which they live. Tolkien owns such.
A/N: The following tale sort of came out on its own, a manifestation of many things we deal with today. I realize that some of the story may be hard to follow or not make sense at some parts. You needn't comment on this (or you may if you like) but I wanted to point out that life is like that. Many things that happen make the least bit of sense and have nothing to offer us later, they just are.
A tale of friendship and dark paths.
Being the Ninth Part of….
To Tread the Path of Darkness
Lost, Forgotten, or Just Misplaced
"May the Orcs take me . . ." Peregrin Took said, quite pleased with himself, though, more with the 'skin in his hand. He swallowed long and deep from it and, shivering, sighed in blissful delight. He peered up at the sky and held the wineskin high over his head in a salute to Gandalf's Lady. "And may they take you, too." He grinned an impish grin, drank deeply, and let the warmth of the drink encompass him completely.
How he had missed it! Elvish wine--pah! Elves had not the taste for drink. He giggled suddenly, as he remembered Legolas' attempt at Durin's Bane. He had to admit, they were great fun, Elves.
Pippin peered about the wooded land in which he had escaped and wiggled more securely against the tree's thick trunk. He was fifteen feet above the ground, nestled comfortably on a thick branch staring in fixed fascination and delight at the Dwarf's wineskin, the cause of all his troubles. Suddenly, it reminded him of the harsh words Merry had thrown at him and the look of disappointment in Frodo's eyes and he hated it. He hated himself, almost, and so he drank and drank, for he knew that he must at some point drink enough to lose all sense of reality and the darkness would come. That was what he really wanted: The blessed, forgetful darkness.
They didn't understand--none of them did. They had thought it an accident and perhaps to some degree the first time had been. But after that? The second time? The third time? Even those that his cousins and parents weren't aware of? Peregrin giggled. No, after that first taste he had craved the darkness. He wanted it to swallow him up and each time he prayed it would never let go. And why should it?
Pippin took another deep gulp. 'I have lost those most important to me.'
Merry had long ago grown up, leaving childish games behind to take up the responsibilities that comes to being the heir of Brandy Hall. Pippin had at first felt sorry for his cousin, for Merry strived so very hard to please his father and to make him proud. The Took had never understood such things (being the youngest everyone had been proud of him for just, well, being) until several years ago when his own father, Paladin, had approached him about his own place as the future Thain.
Things went from bad to worse so fast that young Peregrin became lost, and once he found himself again he realized he was in a place he did not want to be. When he went to Merry for help he found his cousin facing his own troubles and--when once he could tell his cousin anything--found he could not speak his heart to the one he loved so much. Now frightened and desperate, he turned to Frodo but again found him lacking.
Since the disappearance of Bilbo Baggins a subtle change had come over his elder cousin. He was much more secluded, preferring the study to the pub and dissuading visitors to the best of his ability with out appearing rude. No one save a rare few noticed this change and they knew not what to make of it. Pippin, lost and alone, remembered a time not so long ago when his troubles had vanished with naught but a mug (nay, several mugs) of ale.
Peregrin held up the wineskin to peer at it with blurred vision. 'Merry may have forgotten me and Frodo may be lost, but I will ever have you.' Perhaps if his mind had been any less clouded with drink the thought might have seemed somewhat odd to the Hobbit. But as he was quite drunk at this time he merely stroked the wineskin lovingly, toasted the Sun once again and took such a drink a Dwarf would have marveled at.
"Peregrin Took, what ever do you think you are doing?"
Pippin jumped and dropped the wineskin. He barely registered the thunk and cry of indignation below him, as he was too busy trying to maintain his balance. In the far recesses of his mind he wondered at what on Middle-earth had possessed him to climb a tree to get drunk, but as it was an irrelevant matter he brushed it aside as soon as he was confident he would not topple over.
His balance restored, he peered down and spied Frodo, Legolas, and Merry. The irritation upon losing his coveted drink vanished in a flash at seeing his cousins, but most especially the Elf.
Pippin giggled, his arms and legs wrapped securely around the branch. "Well to do, my good Elf," he said merrily, a slight slur easy evidence of his drunkenness. "How is the morn apposed to the night? The Lady I see has kissed you--is it to your delight?" He giggled impishly, pleased with his rhyme. The Elf glared up at him, wiping the Dwarf's golden liquid from his face in disgust.
"That was a poor gesture, young Hobbit," the Elf said in an unnaturally sour tone. "What are you doing up there and so far from the Company?"
"Your mirth is ill mannered, Pippin," Frodo called up and Pippin--drunk or no--could hear the anger in his cousin's voice. "I am ashamed of you're behavior."
Beside him, Merry had nearly burst into laughter at the Elf's drenched appearance but any signs of merriment vanished at the sight of his drunken cousin up in the tree. "Peregrin Took, what do you think you are doing? Have you abandoned all reason? You know that--"
Merry's words were lost as Pippin suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, gasping and choking in a fit that nearly threw him out of the tree. "You really are a sight, Legolas! Oh, I do wish Gimli were here. What a delight!"
"Pippin, stop that!" Frodo called out, anger and then fear choking his words. "You should not speak to Legolas so." He turned to the Elf momentarily, apologetic. "You must forgive him . . ." but his focus could not long be dissuaded. "You will fall, Pip. Now just climb on down now, like a good lad."
"Peregrin Took," Merry said harshly, "If you don't come down here right this minute I, well . . . I will--"
"Has anyone ever told you, dear cousins," Pippin gasped breathlessly, grinning broadly, "That your words are full of meaningless, childish fantasies. You are not my mother, dear Frodo, and you, Merry, are not my father," Pippin's voice was suddenly very cold.
Legolas peered down at the Hobbits momentarily, deeming he was no longer needed and softer than a summer's breeze, the Elf vanished back to the Fellowship relaying that the truant Hobbit was indeed found ("And my drink, I see," the Dwarf said with a chuckle, looking at Legolas' damp clothes and hair) and they would be along shortly.
Pippin laughed a cold, mirthless laugh, drunkenness enflaming his anger. "What must I do to enjoy myself--sneak away? For as long as I remember I have done such and for longer still I have had elders breathing down my neck. What happened to you, Merry?"
"What happened to me?" Merry demanded, incredulous. "Look at yourself, Cousin. What happened to me? I have never seen such a mess as you. You steal the drink of a dear friend and disobey the words of a dearer cousin? You put yourself above the Quest; you endanger the lives of others by running off heedlessly, only concerned for what you want. What's happened to me, you say?"
"I am not a child, Merry!" Pippin cried defiantly. "I am grown. I am no longer a young lad to be told off when you've the mind, nor do I care what you think. I'm nearly of age--why won't you see that?"
"Because you still act like a child," Merry retorted, his eyes glinting with suppressed rage. "You are a spoiled brat that only thinks of himself. What are you trying to do, kill yourself? What would that get you except for a hole in the ground?"
"Merry, enough!" Frodo demanded, his patience spent. "Peregrin, come down right this instant--this will stop right now, do you hear me?"
High in the tree, Pippin laughed. "You're a fool, cousin," he said and Frodo paled visibly. "You walk blindly in a world without love . . . misplaced love and I--" The young Hobbit stopped, as though distracted and he blinked and shook his head.
"Pippin?" Merry called up, worriedly. "Pip, what is it?"
"He's right," Frodo whispered softly, beside him. Merry glanced sideways at him. "But he does not speak of me . . . misplaced love, dear Pip? No, not ever . . . but I—I understand . . ."
"Frodo?"
Frodo ignored Merry and instead sought out his youngest cousin. But whatever words he was going to say were lost, for Pippin's grip upon the branch slipped, faltered, for the darkness had at last come and taken him away.
Merry cried out in terror and disbelief. Frodo did not yell, nor did he move; he could do nothing but watch his small cousin fall from the great tree's embrace.
~*~