Ugh! I am so very sorry for taking so long to update!!! I truly wish I had an excuse, but sadly, I am lacking one... unless pure laziness is an excuse... But I'm back! This chapter is told mostly from Pippin's point of view. Don't all you Frodo and Sam fans worry. All the other chapters are going to be told from either one of their points of view. Pippin shan't be the star of any more chapters after this. And I shall now shut up... here's the next chapter!

*****

Chapter 5: Hope Lost

"Gandalf, what is happening?"

Aragorn looked to the wizard, puzzled and fearful. Gandalf looked back at him but answered not.

"Mithrandir, the orcs retreat. Why?"

Gandalf continued to gazed upon the king, but at length answered, "If I had any explanation, Elessar, I would give it readily. But seeing as I have none, I have naught to say. Please forgive an old man who is trying to find the answer you seek!"

Nodding slightly, Aragorn stepped back and turned to Legolas. The elf was staring across the barren landscape, brows furrowed, seeming to seek some sort of answer from the desolate ruin laid before him. "Legolas."

The elf turned towards Aragorn, saying nothing. Aragorn searched for a question to pose, but found himself at a loss for words. Their situation was inexplicably odd, and somewhat awkward for a warrior such as himself. On the brink of victory, the enemy had suddenly turned around as a mass and left them to their bewilderment. What were they to do? Give chase? Ridiculous. Go home? Equally preposterous. Follow? Quite implausible and yet the most plausible option they had. And that was ignoring entirely the questions that arose as to why the orcs had decided to leave. "Do they only wish to prolong our suffering by giving us false hope?" Aragorn wondered aloud.

"Someone is approaching," Legolas cautioned him.

"How many? Who?"

"There is a horse with two riders, unless the distance cheats my eyes. However, I can not tell who they are ere they draw closer."

Aragorn nodded, "Perhaps the Dark Lord is attempting to negotiate with us once again. And yet why he would bother with such diplomatic pretenses is beyond my skill to fathom."

"Somehow I do not think-"

A cry of despair lifted over the field, resonating eerily in the dead air. Aragorn and Legolas looked at each other. "Gimli," said Legolas grimly, and ran towards the cry, followed closely by Aragorn.

They found the dwarf kneeling on the ground beside a small figure, weeping loudly. It was Pippin. And yet even as Aragorn drew in a shuddering breath, the small hobbit stirred, and looked about, blinking in bewilderment.

The man exhaled deeply and shook his head, managing to let out a short laugh of relief. Gimli, however, stood up, bristling with anger. "Quite theatrical, you are, Master Hobbit! Stay in a swoon long enough to get us good and worried, and then wake up in the nick of time to get everyone to fuss over you! Well, I'll not have it. And let me tell you, little Pippin, if you ever give me such a fright again, I will never speak to you again, much less gush forth my sympathies!"

However, when Pippin blinked dully, a look of hurt confusion on his face, Gimli broke into laughter. "Worry not, laddie!" said he, "Even if I was angry at you, I could not stay in such a state for long!" Pippin managed to smile slightly, but then groaned as he made an attempt to sit himself upright. Aragorn knelt beside him, his eyebrows knit together in concern.

"I apologize, Pippin, but I shall not be able to heal you at the moment. Mercenaries of the Dark Lord come hither, and I shall not have time to see to your wound ere they arrive. Do not worry yourself, my friend, the wound need not be tended to immediately. I am afraid, however, I must ask you to bear the pain for a while longer.

Pippin gritted his teeth and nodded, if not somewhat reluctantly. However, he could not stop himself from asking, "What does he want, Strider? Why does he send his servants to deal with us again when we have already refused his terms?"

Aragorn paused for a moment, searching for an answer to give his small friend. He settled on just telling him the simple truth, "I do not know, Pippin." Pippin inclined his head slightly, in a painful attempt to nod. He did not know what to say.

"Aragorn!" Pippin turned his head towards the cry. It was Legolas, pointing and looking excited about something. Painfully rousing himself, he went to go see what the elf was fussing about. He had never seen Legolas act in such a, well, undignified manner.

"What is it?" he asked, squinting his eyes as he looked in the direction Legolas was pointing. All Pippin could see was a blur of a horse coming down the plain, with two riders mounted upon him. "Frodo and Sam!" he cried, "It's Frodo and Sam!"

A sea of emotions rushed through Pippin's mind and heart. Without realizing it, he fell to his knees weeping with joy. "Frodo and Sam! It's a miracle!" he cried through his tears. Pippin heard a soft sigh from behind him, and, upon turning about, he beheld Gandalf, not looking pleased in the slightest. "What's wrong Gandalf?" he inquired, confused. "What's wrong? What's wrong?" He looked to his companions, all of whom looked equally grim. The look of excitement had faded from Legolas' eyes. "What's wrong?" the little hobbit repeated, worry creeping into his voice.

Gandalf sighed again and responded, "I will say nothing now, my dear hobbit." Pippin was ready to cry out in protest, but Gandalf continued, "I will say nothing now, because I do not know if my suspicions are correct. And if they are, you will understand ere long. Your cousin draws near, Pippin."

Indeed, the two hobbits were now close enough for Pippin to see them clearly. He was relieved to see that Frodo was showing no sign of great hurt. In fact, he was even able to master the difficult task (for a hobbit) of riding a horse. However, Pippins spirits dropped as he beheld Sam. Sam was behind Frodo, clutching to his master as if his life depended on it. His head was resting on Frodo's back, his face buried in his cloak. Samwise looked up tentatively and immediately clenched his eyes shut tight and bit his lip, reluctant tears rolling down his cheeks. "Poor Sam," thought Pippin with a pang of sympathy, "He must be terrified."

Frodo was now before them. He swiftly pried Sam's clutching fingers from his shirt and dismounted smoothly, leaving his servant swaying in the saddle, eyes wide with terror. "Mr. Frodo! Please!" he choked. Again he swayed dangerously, but Aragorn caught him before he fell to the ground. Pippin watched, not quite sure what to think or do besides feel sorry, as Aragorn held Sam in his arm, cradling him much as he would a child. Sam was now positively hysterical. Strider rocked him slowly, shifting him slightly in his arms so that the hobbit was looking up at his face. "Sam, Sam..." he said quietly and whispered something indiscernible in his ear. Sam seemed to calm down and nodded.

"Pippin, your cloak please." Pippin jumped slightly, for he had not expected to be addressed. He quickly gave Strider his cloak and watched as he laid Sam down gently on the ground, rolling the cloak into a neat bundle and putting it beneath Sam's head. Strider knelt down beside Sam and again whispered something that Pippin could not hear. When Strider rose, Sam's eyes were shut and his breathing deep and even. He looked about, making it clear that he was addressing them all when he said, "He has had a difficult journey. Do not disturb his rest."

The blood rose in Frodo's face as he said bitterly, "Have I not traveled the same distance, to the same destination, as he? Where is my welcome?"

"I beg your pardon, Master Hobbit, but I did not see any sign of distress from you. I might even venture so far as to say that you seem much more well off than when I saw you last. There is an explanation for this, I have no doubt. The question is, do we want to hear it?"

Pippin was aghast to hear the tone with which Gandalf addressed his cousin, but was equally surprised to hear the way Frodo spoke. The bitter tone was quite uncharacteristic of the hobbit. Then again, would he have not been upset when he, like Frodo said, received not even the slightest semblance of a warm welcome? Siding on his cousin's behalf, Pippin opened his mouth to admonish Gandalf, when the wizard made a sudden grab for Frodo's arm. And set upon his finger was the ring!

Pippin gasped involuntarily. How could this be? "Well," Gandalf said grimly, "we now have the explanation for you physical... wellness... but I would like to hear your reasoning as to why you would do such a thing."

Frodo's eyes narrowed angrily. "I don't know how you can make this out to be a problem, Gandalf. The ring I bear is more of a reason for you to welcome me, not something for which you should treat me with scorn!"

"I pray, do tell me why, Master Baggins."

"Just look about you Gandalf! The brutal destruction! Now that I have the ring, we can use it to rebuild which it once destroyed at the hand of Sauron. The ring itself is not evil, Gandalf, just the one who wielded it. In my power, we shall undo all the evil done unto this world by Sauron!"

"Do you not understand? The ring is Sauron; Sauron is the ring. Why do you think he was deprived of nearly all of his power when Isildur cut the ring from his hand? Did I not tell you, Frodo? They are one. The ring and the Dark Lord. You will never have power over it, but the ring, Sauron, does have power over you. With this ring, you will not breathe life into Mordor. But you will bring death unto all the places you once loved, lay low Minas Tirith, and Helms Deep, until all that was once green and good in this world has been turned to utter ruin. All of Middle Earth shall be as Mordor. Frodo! Heed me! Do not let it possess you!"

Pippin was quite sure after this brilliant speech by Gandalf, Frodo would be immovably convinced that Gandalf was correct. But instead, his opinion turned out to be entirely opposite. "Lovely prose, Gandalf, but misinformed. Sauron is gone. I have overthrown him. With the help of the ring, I might add. How did you come upon this 'knowledge?' How far have you borne the ring? Not half so far as I, I daresay."

"I have had quite enough of this discussion, Frodo. If I cannot appeal to your good nature, (which was indeed a lost cause, seeing as you have none of that left) I will appeal to your desire to live. The future of Middle Earth is at stake, and I have no qualms about killing you if that is what is necessary," Gandalf's eyes told another story, Pippin observed. However, the wizard continued, his voice quite steady, "However, your death is not necessary as of yet. Relinquish your claim on the ring, and we will welcome you back into the fellowship, and our friendship, bearing no resentment against you."

"A clever plan indeed, Gandalf. Or perhaps not, seeing as our dear Samwise thought of the same idea not so long ago. Obviously it takes no great wit to formulate such a scheme. And, I might add, (although you may have already drawn this conclusion, seeing as I am here without severed limps and the ring upon my finger) he did not carry through with his threats."

"I really do hate to tell you this, Frodo, but I am not half so nice or foolish as poor Sam. I am also quite surprised that you would insult the one person who has done nothing but love you his whole life."

Ignoring Gandalf's latter statement, Frodo spat, "Kill me then."

"So be it."

Pippin did not even think as he flung himself in front of his cousin. It was instinct that pushed him atop the hobbit who had watched him when his parents went visiting, read him bedtime stories, played Elves and Dragons with him whenever he asked, baked him fresh blueberry muffins every morning, and looked for him as he hid in one of the many rooms of Bag End. It was instinct that put him between Frodo and Gandalf's blade.

At the same instant Pippin had flung himself upon Frodo, Sam had sprung up from the ground where he had been feinting sleep. He propelled himself towards Gandalf's legs and knocked the wizard flat on his chest, the sword flying out of his hand. Before Sam could even wonder why he had done such a thing, Gandalf had struck him across the face. "Meddlesome-"he began, but then felt a pang of regret. He picked himself up, helping Sam as well. Placing his hand on the offended cheek, which was glowing red but was otherwise undamaged, he said, "Forgive me, Samwise."

There was a loud cry, and both wizard and hobbit spun around. Frodo had gotten a hold of Gandalf's sword, and was struggling to grip the large blade. Suddenly, Pippin was on him, trying desperately to grab the ring from Frodo's finger. Frodo whirled around wildly, striking Pippin in the head with the flat side of the blade. Pippin fell to the ground, unconscious, flat upon his back.

Frodo, however, in his wild rage, did not halt. With a great force, he drove the blade directly into Pippin's heart. When he drew back, all that could be seen of the sword was the hilt, the jewels glimmering brightly as Pippin's blood. Everyone looked upon the figure in horror, for Pippin was clearly dead.

***********

Somehow I have the feeling you all want to drive Gandalf's blade through *my* heart! I am very sorry about this... I am quite the hypocrite because I HATE when authors kill off main characters. If it consoles you at all, it was not the most pleasant thing to write. Part of the reason I took so long with the update was because I was trying to find a way to *not* kill him, but could not think of any other way to keep the rest of the desired storyline intact. I cried when I wrote this, though. I cry for anything and everything. Did any of you see Whale Rider? I was hysterical during that movie. And it wasn't even *that* sad. I'm not even going to get started about how I acted during my first viewing of RotK... and why exactly am I talking about this? I never cease to puzzle myself.

And just FYI, from now on I am going to be responding to reviewers individually. So... please review!!!