Author's Notes: I'm sorry it's been a while since I last updated this fic but I had doubts with the direction I was taking the plot (as well as having an indecision about which of two quotes to use... if you read my livejournal you may have seen it). I wasn't sure whether or not I wanted to veer off so far from the path Merry and Pippin took in the books on their journey to Rohan and then to Gondor. I decided though, to dip into the prologue a bit and after reading it over a few times I decided to make mention of a few things (which I will not reveal at the moment as I don't want to spoil anything) and have Merry and Pippin travel east in the direction of Bree instead of taking the Sarn Ford to the south as it says in the appendices. I don't think that's TOO much of a crime, is it?

Again, I've taken artistic license with this chapter. Again, I know Pippin didn't live in Great Smials for his entire life but I felt if he HAD it would have added more meaning to his departure in this story. As for the paintings mentioned they're a creation of my own. The museum in Michel Delving, while being mostly a store house of things hobbits have no room for in their own holes, kept most of the weapons in the Shire and other such items/artifacts. The way I saw it, after the Battle of Bywater and the like I'm sure Merry and Pippin received some sort of recognition... especially after their great quest with Nine-Fingered Frodo and Samwise the Brave. *grins* I thought that perhaps there should be some sort of immortalizing piece in that museum for them... and I decided on maybe some sort of painting... like the ones seen in Rivendell. (I'm an artist, I can't help but admire the beauty of the paintings)

The flashback in this chapter (well one of them) is indeed taken from the FotR movie... I've intended to derive mainly from the books but I can't help but be influenced by the work of Peter Jackson when the case presents itself.

The Days Have Gone Down in the West

Chapter Three: Letting Go

"Farewell we call to hearth and hall!
Though wind may blow and rain may fall,
We must away ere break of day
Far over wood and mountain tall."
~ Farewell Song of Merry and Pippin; The Fellowship of the Ring; J.R.R. Tolkien

The following day was the hardest morning of my life. I simply did not want to get up. I clutched the blankets, keeping them wrapped tightly around me. Getting out of this bed meant I would have to leave home for the last time. I would have to leave the Shire and leave behind everything I knew and held so dear to me. I did not want to get up. I would not get out of bed. I could not leave home.

"Get up, Pippin!" ordered Merry, pinching my arm. The sharp pain shot up my arm and I yelped, burrowing further under the covers. This provoked an exasperated sigh from my cousin. "Get up, you lazy goose! I am not going to miss breakfast on your account!"

"Then go!" I squeaked, pulling the blankets over my head to block out the unwelcome light. "I want to sleep!"

"Well then you should have gone to bed when Cousin Bilbo put you to bed!" replied Merry, groping around in search of my foot. I tucked my knees in close to my chest so he could not grab me. "It's your own fault!"

"I wanted to see Gandalf!" I insisted, clinging to the bed sheets. "I had never seen one of the Big Folk before, Merry, and you know how curious I am!"

"Indeed, it's irrepressible," said Merry, "but I shall not allow myself to miss breakfast and leave you to rot in bed like some lazy Hornblower!"

With that, I felt Merry rip the blankets off me, exposing me to the morning light. I shrieked and made desperate grabs for the covers but my cousin would not give in. He enjoyed teasing me like this; this morning in Bag End was not the first of its kind. And while I would kick and cry at being heaved out of bed, I was always thankful later that Merry had not let me miss breakfast.

"Peregrin Took, you're far too old to be pulling this sort of a stunt!"

My eyes met the crisp gaze of Merry, hovering over me. Once again he was trying to coax me out of bed but this time he was not teasing. There was no merry glint of mischief and play in his eyes. They were sharp and clear and I could see a flame of anger beginning to kindle within them.

"Merry, please--" I tried.

"No, Peregrin," he replied sharply, folding his arms across his chest. He was looking genuinely displeased. "I don't have the time to linger here while you lay in bed and rot. Time is short and we must leave now!"

"I can't..." I managed to croak. Tears were gathering in my eyes. Now that it came to it, I found I did not have the strength to leave home. I could not will myself to let the Shire go.

Merry stood and stared at me quietly for some time as I let the tears fall gently down my weathered cheeks. His expression gradually softened and he sat down quietly.

"I know it's hard to let go," he said gently. "I have not found it any easier myself. But, Pippin, you know I must go and there is nothing which can stop me... not even you." He paused. "What I'm saying is... I am leaving... even if you no longer wish to come."

Merry would not sit and wait. Merry had to go and he was prepared to leave without me. I would be left behind. My breath caught in my throat as this realization hit me. Merry was ready to leave me... forever! Surely he was only teasing! He wouldn't really leave the Shire... and leave me! I searched his eyes for any sign this was all a jest. I found none; he was serious.

"Merry, you're not leaving me behind!" I cried, and mustering up all my strength of will, I got out of bed as quickly as I possibly could and went straight into my cousin's welcoming arms.

*~*~*

Faramir had personally gone to prepare our ponies and stood waiting, with their reins in hand, for Merry and I to come. As I left the hobbit hole to where my son stood with the animals, I could feel my muscles wearing down already. The silver chain mail and plated armor of Gondor weighed heavily on my aged frame. Merry too looked weakened, but his armor was lightweight and easier on an old hobbit.

Not a word was spoken by anyone as I mounted my steed. Merry sat atop his pony and smiled grimly at me. I knew just as well as he did that this meant being one step farther from home. I tried not to think about it as Faramir saw that I was strapped safely in place. When he looked up at me I saw that his green eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

"You look just like you do in the great paintings in the museum," he whispered quietly. "I'll miss you, Dad... stay safe."

I smiled and reaching down, put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll never leave my thoughts and heart, Faramir. My time is done but yours is only beginning. Do me proud, lad, just as you always have."

Faramir beamed at me through his tears. "One day I too shall see the white towers in the East. And when I do I shall be sure to visit you, wherever you may rest."

"You shall indeed. Good-bye, son."

With a snap of the reins, our ponies began to trot down the path and out onto the lane. Faramir followed us to the gate where he remained, watching with mingled reverence and dismay as Merry and I began our journey. I looked back once and saw him wave farewell to us. I continued to watch until Great Smials disappeared around the bend. I would never see that place again. The smial I was born in, grew up in... I had spent my entire life there and had looked upon it for the last time. I would not see its inviting gardens ever again, nor would I explore its endless tunnels... and I would never again look upon my son.

Before I even became aware of it, I was hunched forward in my saddle, my shoulders shaking from suppressed sobs. Why was this so hard?! I had left home easily enough an age ago, why was it so hard to part with now?! I could hold back the cries no longer and allowed a strangled sob to escape from my throat. One was followed by another and soon I was crying loud and freely as the pony still continued on.

Amidst my sobs I felt a hand be placed on my shoulder. Merry... He squeezed my shoulder gently to try and reassure me. I clutched his gloved hand, continuing to sob. Gradually they became softer and softer until I was merely sniffling. I looked over at Merry. Unshed tears glistened in his crystalline eyes. I envied his strength and reserve. This was just as hard for him as it was for me yet he managed not to fall apart.

"I'm all right," I managed to whisper.

Merry did not look convinced. "It's not easy letting go. I have not yet managed to do so myself. But try not to think about it as an end to things." He let go of my shoulder and looked down the road ahead of us. "We'll stay at the Red Lion tonight in Stock. Tomorrow we shall head for Bree."

"Bree..." I breathed. I had often wondered how the village was fairing now. I doubted Barliman Butterbur was still around. I would miss his cheery countenance and warm hospitality...

*~*~*

The sun was high in the sky as we left the rolling hills and farmer's fields of the Tookland. The edge of what used to be old Farmer Maggot's land marked the entrance into the Woody End. The small forest loomed ahead, the sun filtering through the green branches.

I pulled back the reins and hesitated just outside the tree line. The Woody End had long been safe and a welcoming cool haven of shade for many years now but I had never gone back in there since my tween-age years. Every small dark rock and shadowy shape was leering at me, even at nearly mid-day.

"Pip?" Merry was already under the green canopy. His pony pawed at the ground impatiently. "Are you all right? Pippin?"

I tore my eyes away from the bushes to smile weakly at Merry. "I'm fine." I swallowed hard, gripping the reins tightly as my pony continued on after Merry. That day in the Woody End with my cousins still haunted me...

"I don't see why he's so upset!" hollered Merry. "It's only a couple of carrots!"

"And some cabbages!" I added, glancing back over my shoulder at my cousin. My arms were laden with cabbages and carrots, freshly nicked from Maggot's garden. "And those three bags of potatoes we lifted last week! And-and the mushrooms the week before!"

"Yes, Pippin!" sighed Merry exasperatedly. "My point is, he's clearly overreacting!"

I could hear Maggot's angry shouts mingled with the barking of his dogs behind us. I could hear Merry's hurried footsteps behind me as I crashed blindly through the corn stalks. Suddenly the endless green wall gave way to the thicket of the Woody End. I skidded to a halt just past the field. Below me the hill slanted into a steep ravine leading to the road below. I heard Merry grunt as he slammed into me. I lurched forwards but managed not to fall. As Frodo hit us I still managed to keep my footing but when Sam collided into us, I was lost.

I fell forwards, tumbling head first down the hill. My pack was lost and I lost hold of most of the carrots as the four of us tumbled down the hill. The trees and dirt spun past me in a swirl of colour. I shut my eyes to suppress the growing dizziness in my head.

I hit the dirt road hard on my side. Merry crashed on top of me, sprawling me out on my stomach. I felt two more similar thumps on top of me as Frodo and Sam finally joined the pile.

The fall having finally ended, I looked up from the dirt as I felt the others move around. I was pleased to discover one of the cabbages was still all right and I had landed inches away from a face full of fecal matter.

"Whew!" I breathed. "That was close!"

I heard Merry groan and felt his heel sink into the back of my knee as he sat up. "I think I've broken something." I heard him make a disappointed sound as he discovered whatever vegetable he had sat on.

Frodo rolled off me and got to his feet as Sam sat up, brushing himself off. "Trust a Brandybuck and a Took..."

"That was just a detour," defended Merry, "a shortcut!"

"Shortcut to what?" grumbled Sam.

I looked ahead, tearing my eyes away from the peculiar mound of animal dung to notice something growing by a nearby tree root. "Mushrooms!"

I scrambled to get to my feet but was pushed face first into the dirt twice as Sam and Merry ran by me to gather the fungus. I scampered after them, sinking into the dirt and helping to gather the precious food. This was a greater find than Maggot's vegetables! Mushrooms were a prized food and a favourite of all hobbits'. I was so involved with the find that I didn't hear Frodo tell us to get off the road and only moved when I felt Merry tug on my arm.

I didn't understand what was going on but followed my cousin behind a tree and plopped down next to Sam beneath a great tree root. Frodo was looking wildly around as Merry and I giggled and examined our mushroom prize. It wasn't until Sam swatted us both and Merry put down the sack of mushrooms that I heard it.

Hoof beats could be heard approaching from the road. A stillness swept over us. I began to feel uneasy as the being drew closer. Dread seized me and fear washed over me. As the horse and rider stopped by our tree, the feeling worsened. Terror overwhelmed me right down to the core. I found myself quivering in our small shelter, clutching my head of cabbage and dreading to look up at what was near us.

There was a clanking thud as the rider dismounted his horse. I could hear the horse snorting and stamping. An icy fear spread deeper as the rider approached us and I looked up at him through a gap in the roots. He was faceless, his entire body hidden by dark black robes. He drew in a rattling breath as he leaned over the tree root. Silver armored hands gripped the root as he sniffed around. Terrified, I huddled in close to Sam. Nothing like this had ever been seen in the Shire before and I didn't like it!

The rider's inhaling seemed to draw all the dirty things out of the earth. Worms crawled across my toes. I wanted to cry out for my mother but found I could not speak. I wanted to go home, be safe, get away from this fearsome creature.

The sniffing stopped and I shut my eyes tightly, waiting for the rider to spring. I clung to Sam's backpack and braced myself for what was to come. I heard something crash in the trees and with a screech which chilled me to the bone, the being was gone. Movement came back to me slowly. Dazed, I felt Merry grab me by the arm and we ran, Frodo and Sam following closely behind...

I was more than just a little relieved as we arrived at last in Stock. It was the dinner hour and the rumblings of my stomach had grown increasingly louder. We rode past the houses and smials, warm lights flickering within their windows. I wondered what the cook had prepared back in Great Smials. Were Faramir, Goldilocks, and their two lads seated together for a warm, hot meal? Were the lads curious towards the new absence of their grandfather?

These thoughts and many more wandered through my mind as Merry and I tied up our ponies outside the Red Lion and entered the small tavern. Upon our entrance the sounds of merry-making ceased and all eyes turned towards us. A hush fell upon all the hobbits present. For here, in their presence were two old gentlehobbits, aged far beyond the youth of the Michel Delving portraits but easily identified as the very same Took and Brandybuck in the garb of Rohan and Gondor.

I did my best to ignore the stares as Merry made his way over to the barkeeper. "We'd like a room for the evening with two beds."

"Yes sir, we've got plenty of accommodations to be serving your need," stammered the barkeep. He bowed low, pulled out some keys and motioned for us to follow him down the back hallway. As we left the main room the sounds of tinkering glasses and dim chatter picked up again.

I had quickly grown tired of the attention my armor gave me. It was not enough to be one of the tallest hobbits in the Shire; I had to be Thain and gleam like my mother's silverware. It had earned me plenty of attention from the lasses which had been pleasing at first but all of this awed gaping and hushed whispering was now unnerving. Infamy had been a fun life but now I longed for the simple and quiet.

The innkeeper stopped outside one of the rooms and, after unlocking the door, let us inside. I looked around the room. It was quaint and humble with two hobbit-sized beds. I frowned ever so slightly. I had the suspicion I would be a tad too big for the bed.

"Can I get you anything, masters?" asked the innkeeper.

"Some bread, cheese, and ale will be fine," answered Merry. The innkeeper nodded and left, returning shortly with a platter of Merry's requests.

Merry and I sat down at the room's small table. I filled my belly with the food and drink but noticed Merry did not touch his portion. This was most unlike him.

"Merry, why have you not touched your meal?" I asked. "Are you feeling ill?"

"No," replied my cousin quietly. "It just feels too strange to eat. This is our last taste of the Shire; our last meal prepared by a hobbit."

I thought about what he said. I was devouring the last of my home. I choked down the last of my cheese and sighed. "Suddenly I do not feel like eating so much either…"

"There there, Pip," said Merry, reaching over and taking my hand. "Tomorrow we may be leaving our homeland borders but we shall once again be looking upon the grand and beautiful lands of the East." He smiled. "I know your Took nature secretly longs for it."

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. "Indeed it does, Merry, indeed it does…"