Ch. 6

Pippin screamed and rocketed out of bed. Another dream, he thought, another dream.

He walked out of the room and nearly stepped on a young hobbit lying on the floor because he could not find a bed. Pippin knew the boy: it was Rosie's nephew, Erid.

"Erid," he whispered. "Erid, there is a bed in here. Come." He led the hobbit into Sam and Rosie's room. As they walked, Pippin noticed the wound that brought him to this house. His neck had been cut, plainly by a dull blade, so there was a large bruise and a shallow cut. He limped and his left eye did not move along with the right. Erid thanked Pippin for his kindness, and fell immediately into a deep sleep. Pippin turned and left the room, avoiding the bed that had doubled in number and now left even less walking space.

"Pip!" a voice cried from a bed.

"Merry!" Pippin cried. He kneeled down and embraced his friend. The two of them cried and stayed together for a while before another hoarse voice beckoned them.

"Merry, Pippin!"

"Sam!" Pippin cried. Rosie had been kind enough to put Sam and Merry near each other so that they could speak to each other. The trio began to cry and laugh and talk to each other. Hard times had come and were still on their way, but a moment of peace was exactly what they needed.

"Pip." Sam said. "Pip.he's here." Sam began to smile before he fell back to sleep.

"Who's here, Merry?" Pippin said, beginning to worry.

"The white wizard," he said, smiling. "Gandalf is here."