Disclaimer: AU Story. Based on Shirebound's wonderful drabble, "Grace";
much thanks for her permission. The characters and settings continue to
belong to Tolkien. But the plot is mine and I very much hope that you enjoy
it. ^^
Shirebound: Hehe, thank you! It's lovely to know which parts of the story you enjoyed most. I confess, the "dear Sam and his Mister Frodo" sentence was one of my favourites too ;-)
Shire Baggins: I agree- I love the stories of Frodo and Sam's waking, because it's so much fun reading the different reactions that people write. I'm so relieved to hear that you liked my Merry and Pippin, as they tend to end up too young for their age when I describe them! Thank you for your lovely comments.
Cstini: Yay! Hello again, great to hear from you again. Yes, poor Sam and Frodo, my angst never fails to approach the traumatic. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
MagicalRachel: I read the first part of your review and knew you were going to say something along those lines :-) Hehe. I'm amazed I've been able to update in so short a time due to the evilness of school. You like Merry's portraits? Oh, yay, you can't imagine how wonderful that is to hear! I'm ecstatic you're enjoying this so much.
Bookworm2000: You are so dedicated, Bookworm. You're a wonder. Can't believe you're still willing to dive into yet another of my fics- huge thank you! :-D
~ Chapter Three ~
Without missing a beat, Gandalf knelt down before the distraught hobbit and brought him into his arms. For a long time, Pippin was unable to more than sob into his friend' robe, burying his face in the shoulder that had borne a few weights greater than a little one's tears.
After a while, the flow of tears reached a cessation and Gandalf wrapped his arms more securely round Pippin's frame.
"Now then," he said, "Shall we go and find Merry?"
"No...no, it's alright, Gandalf. It's stupid for me to cry like this, I know. But I...I..." For a minute, Pippin looked as if he was going to weep again. Then he quickly shaking himself, taking in his companion's warmth and saying in a small voice, "I miss them so very much."
It poured out of him like rain from a stormcloud. He put the emotions of the Fellowship into shaky stumbling words. Everyday, looking into the faces of two he loved most, it had become more than one so small could bear.
"They don't deserve this! They wouldn't have to be put into a sleep if things had turned out differently. I mean, Frodo would never want to hurt anyone. Though the Shire made fun of him and all...and all, he would never rise to an argument. Not ever! The only time I've heard him shout at someone is when the Sackville-Bagginses came and ruined poor Sam's garden. He yelled lots then, because he knew how sad Sam would be. Merry and I had to wait inside till it was all over and Sam himself had to come and sort it out because Lotho refused to leave the garden. It was awful! But then Sam came and he sorted it all out. He's really good at that, Gandalf, really good. Whatever went wrong. There was even this time when I set the windmill on fire when my lantern got too hot to hold and I threw it away and it hit the sails and then the miller got furious! But Sam came and he talked to the miller and he apologised so much that the miller couldn't possibly say no and he even got my lantern back and then he sent me back to Frodo.
Now look, Gandalf! Frodo can't whisper, let a lone shout and Sam can't sort anything out now that they're like that. I know I shouldn't be crying again, it's stupid, I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop looking at them and thinking that I'm not going to be able to get Frodo to yell at me and whatever happens, I'm not going to have Sam wake up and put it all to rights. Frodo might not ever give me a hug again! And that's terrible- it's awful. It's not fair! I know, I shouldn't say it because life isn't fair and lots of people have died and lots of people are hurt too but it's true! It isn't fair! Frodo and Sam are so nice. Nice, wonderful, brave and loyal. I know, it's a wicked thing to do but sometimes I wish that a couple of ordinary soldiers were lying there. I know that I shouldn't because all the soldiers have fought and I'll wager that they're all nice, wonderful and brave and loyal but it shouldn't be happening to my friends because they're mine and I don't want anything taking them from me! It isn't fair! It isn't fair!"
By the end of it, Gandalf's back was sodden and Pippin was shaking with breathless sobs as thoughts he wished he had never had rushed before his eyes.
Both of them wept, each holding the other with trembling hands, the faces of the Ringbearers imprinted behind their eyes. No, it was not fair. No, they did not deserve this. No one did. The wizard and hobbit had convinced themselves that it would all be alright and they would be glad of it in the end. But here, in these hiccuping moments, it did not seem so. They cried together, muffling their ragged breaths, eternally grateful for the presence of the other.
Gandalf pulled himself together first. He was doing this far too much of late, he chastised himself. Yet how hobbits never ceased to surprise. Though they had an unfailing ability to fill one with joy and forget their sorrows, they could also invite tears. He doubted this was a purposeful task but his heart ached with physical pain. When he came and looked into those calm faces, he saw regret. Regret at sending such beautiful, pure friends into the wilderness. And it was his own doing. He would never have pressed such a thing on frail Bilbo. There could only have been Frodo to bear it and only Sam to help him. Yet surely there could have been another way, he circled back in his mind, surely they should not have enduring so great a hardship. Hobbits were the last folk he wished to see the blackest terrors of the world. He closed his eyes against the pain of it all.
No. The word rang in his mind. He might weep now but when Frodo and Sam woke, he would ask them. Only they could know if the decision made was right. What with all the commotion going on in Ithilien and word of concern from Minas Tirith, he knew that the last thing either of them wanted was to be quizzed about their nightmares. But when they were willing to share their thoughts on the quest, many minds would be laid to rest. Gandalf rocked Pippin back and forth in his lap until he discovered that the little hobbit's breathing had evened out and his eyes had closed.
"There, you silly Took," he murmured, "Sleep can be a wonderful healer. So let it take its course. Let us all rest until our wounds are mended. I promise you the world will seem brighter when you wake."
Ever so gently, he got to his feet and walked across to Pippin's bed, laying him down and pulling the quilt up to his chin. Then, he used the sleeve of his white robe to wipe away the few remaining tears.
--
Aragorn was very tired. He felt as if he had not slept in an eternity, though he had only been up one night. Wearily, he ducked into the pavilion of the hobbits and flopped down on the chair by Frodo's bed.
"What a day," he muttered, "What a miserable day. Frodo, it was truly awful. Fever is rising among the soldiers and it stirs up panic all the while. We've spent most of the day trying to separate them into different areas so not to let it spread but nearly all of them are too ill to move. Oh dear. And Gandalf is doing his very best to keep everything calm and orderly but I really can't expect him to handle this alone and I'm just useless."
He grinned down at the small figure and then let out a yawn.
"Goodness! Listen to me. I ought to be getting back to my own bed now. The Valar know what will come tomorrow."
The man bent down to kiss Frodo's forehead then retreated to his chair, leaning back with a sigh.
"Sleep well," he murmured.
Unfortunately, after saying this, he found that he was too tired to attempt another rise from the seat. So he did not leave as he had intended and return to his tent. Instead, he drifted from consciousness to consciousness, sinking deeper and deeper under the veil of slumber.
"Ara..."
He jerked awake at once. Aragorn sat bolt upright, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head to clear his muggy thoughts. He stared down at the pale face to witness a tiny crease forming between Frodo's brows and his name being formed on the hobbit's lips. It was slightly clearer this time.
"Aragorn?"
"Yes, Frodo, yes, I'm here," the man replied, trying to keep his voice from trembling. This was no dream. It could not be. In his rising excitement, he slapped himself on the arm. There was a sting of pain and he could barely contain the shout of joy that longed to explode from him. "It's Aragorn, Frodo. I'm here. I'm here."
The eyelids fluttered almost imperceptibly. But to the eyes of one who had searched every waking moment for the movement, it was an undeniable action. Slowly, sparks of blue appeared behind the lashes and then whole wide pupils, gazing up in confusion.
"You're here? But what are you doing here? Did you come and find me?"
"I never stopped searching, dear Frodo," Aragorn wept, drawing his friend into his arms, "I never stopped searching."
~
I apologise if Pippin's speech was a bit overwhelming, but if you can imagine him just sobbing out more and more words as they come to him (I typed the first things that came into my head at top speed to try and convey the feeling) then I think it's less daunting. Just skip it if it's a bit much, :-P.
Shirebound: Hehe, thank you! It's lovely to know which parts of the story you enjoyed most. I confess, the "dear Sam and his Mister Frodo" sentence was one of my favourites too ;-)
Shire Baggins: I agree- I love the stories of Frodo and Sam's waking, because it's so much fun reading the different reactions that people write. I'm so relieved to hear that you liked my Merry and Pippin, as they tend to end up too young for their age when I describe them! Thank you for your lovely comments.
Cstini: Yay! Hello again, great to hear from you again. Yes, poor Sam and Frodo, my angst never fails to approach the traumatic. Thank you! And I hope you enjoy the rest of the story.
MagicalRachel: I read the first part of your review and knew you were going to say something along those lines :-) Hehe. I'm amazed I've been able to update in so short a time due to the evilness of school. You like Merry's portraits? Oh, yay, you can't imagine how wonderful that is to hear! I'm ecstatic you're enjoying this so much.
Bookworm2000: You are so dedicated, Bookworm. You're a wonder. Can't believe you're still willing to dive into yet another of my fics- huge thank you! :-D
~ Chapter Three ~
Without missing a beat, Gandalf knelt down before the distraught hobbit and brought him into his arms. For a long time, Pippin was unable to more than sob into his friend' robe, burying his face in the shoulder that had borne a few weights greater than a little one's tears.
After a while, the flow of tears reached a cessation and Gandalf wrapped his arms more securely round Pippin's frame.
"Now then," he said, "Shall we go and find Merry?"
"No...no, it's alright, Gandalf. It's stupid for me to cry like this, I know. But I...I..." For a minute, Pippin looked as if he was going to weep again. Then he quickly shaking himself, taking in his companion's warmth and saying in a small voice, "I miss them so very much."
It poured out of him like rain from a stormcloud. He put the emotions of the Fellowship into shaky stumbling words. Everyday, looking into the faces of two he loved most, it had become more than one so small could bear.
"They don't deserve this! They wouldn't have to be put into a sleep if things had turned out differently. I mean, Frodo would never want to hurt anyone. Though the Shire made fun of him and all...and all, he would never rise to an argument. Not ever! The only time I've heard him shout at someone is when the Sackville-Bagginses came and ruined poor Sam's garden. He yelled lots then, because he knew how sad Sam would be. Merry and I had to wait inside till it was all over and Sam himself had to come and sort it out because Lotho refused to leave the garden. It was awful! But then Sam came and he sorted it all out. He's really good at that, Gandalf, really good. Whatever went wrong. There was even this time when I set the windmill on fire when my lantern got too hot to hold and I threw it away and it hit the sails and then the miller got furious! But Sam came and he talked to the miller and he apologised so much that the miller couldn't possibly say no and he even got my lantern back and then he sent me back to Frodo.
Now look, Gandalf! Frodo can't whisper, let a lone shout and Sam can't sort anything out now that they're like that. I know I shouldn't be crying again, it's stupid, I'm sorry, but I couldn't stop looking at them and thinking that I'm not going to be able to get Frodo to yell at me and whatever happens, I'm not going to have Sam wake up and put it all to rights. Frodo might not ever give me a hug again! And that's terrible- it's awful. It's not fair! I know, I shouldn't say it because life isn't fair and lots of people have died and lots of people are hurt too but it's true! It isn't fair! Frodo and Sam are so nice. Nice, wonderful, brave and loyal. I know, it's a wicked thing to do but sometimes I wish that a couple of ordinary soldiers were lying there. I know that I shouldn't because all the soldiers have fought and I'll wager that they're all nice, wonderful and brave and loyal but it shouldn't be happening to my friends because they're mine and I don't want anything taking them from me! It isn't fair! It isn't fair!"
By the end of it, Gandalf's back was sodden and Pippin was shaking with breathless sobs as thoughts he wished he had never had rushed before his eyes.
Both of them wept, each holding the other with trembling hands, the faces of the Ringbearers imprinted behind their eyes. No, it was not fair. No, they did not deserve this. No one did. The wizard and hobbit had convinced themselves that it would all be alright and they would be glad of it in the end. But here, in these hiccuping moments, it did not seem so. They cried together, muffling their ragged breaths, eternally grateful for the presence of the other.
Gandalf pulled himself together first. He was doing this far too much of late, he chastised himself. Yet how hobbits never ceased to surprise. Though they had an unfailing ability to fill one with joy and forget their sorrows, they could also invite tears. He doubted this was a purposeful task but his heart ached with physical pain. When he came and looked into those calm faces, he saw regret. Regret at sending such beautiful, pure friends into the wilderness. And it was his own doing. He would never have pressed such a thing on frail Bilbo. There could only have been Frodo to bear it and only Sam to help him. Yet surely there could have been another way, he circled back in his mind, surely they should not have enduring so great a hardship. Hobbits were the last folk he wished to see the blackest terrors of the world. He closed his eyes against the pain of it all.
No. The word rang in his mind. He might weep now but when Frodo and Sam woke, he would ask them. Only they could know if the decision made was right. What with all the commotion going on in Ithilien and word of concern from Minas Tirith, he knew that the last thing either of them wanted was to be quizzed about their nightmares. But when they were willing to share their thoughts on the quest, many minds would be laid to rest. Gandalf rocked Pippin back and forth in his lap until he discovered that the little hobbit's breathing had evened out and his eyes had closed.
"There, you silly Took," he murmured, "Sleep can be a wonderful healer. So let it take its course. Let us all rest until our wounds are mended. I promise you the world will seem brighter when you wake."
Ever so gently, he got to his feet and walked across to Pippin's bed, laying him down and pulling the quilt up to his chin. Then, he used the sleeve of his white robe to wipe away the few remaining tears.
--
Aragorn was very tired. He felt as if he had not slept in an eternity, though he had only been up one night. Wearily, he ducked into the pavilion of the hobbits and flopped down on the chair by Frodo's bed.
"What a day," he muttered, "What a miserable day. Frodo, it was truly awful. Fever is rising among the soldiers and it stirs up panic all the while. We've spent most of the day trying to separate them into different areas so not to let it spread but nearly all of them are too ill to move. Oh dear. And Gandalf is doing his very best to keep everything calm and orderly but I really can't expect him to handle this alone and I'm just useless."
He grinned down at the small figure and then let out a yawn.
"Goodness! Listen to me. I ought to be getting back to my own bed now. The Valar know what will come tomorrow."
The man bent down to kiss Frodo's forehead then retreated to his chair, leaning back with a sigh.
"Sleep well," he murmured.
Unfortunately, after saying this, he found that he was too tired to attempt another rise from the seat. So he did not leave as he had intended and return to his tent. Instead, he drifted from consciousness to consciousness, sinking deeper and deeper under the veil of slumber.
"Ara..."
He jerked awake at once. Aragorn sat bolt upright, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head to clear his muggy thoughts. He stared down at the pale face to witness a tiny crease forming between Frodo's brows and his name being formed on the hobbit's lips. It was slightly clearer this time.
"Aragorn?"
"Yes, Frodo, yes, I'm here," the man replied, trying to keep his voice from trembling. This was no dream. It could not be. In his rising excitement, he slapped himself on the arm. There was a sting of pain and he could barely contain the shout of joy that longed to explode from him. "It's Aragorn, Frodo. I'm here. I'm here."
The eyelids fluttered almost imperceptibly. But to the eyes of one who had searched every waking moment for the movement, it was an undeniable action. Slowly, sparks of blue appeared behind the lashes and then whole wide pupils, gazing up in confusion.
"You're here? But what are you doing here? Did you come and find me?"
"I never stopped searching, dear Frodo," Aragorn wept, drawing his friend into his arms, "I never stopped searching."
~
I apologise if Pippin's speech was a bit overwhelming, but if you can imagine him just sobbing out more and more words as they come to him (I typed the first things that came into my head at top speed to try and convey the feeling) then I think it's less daunting. Just skip it if it's a bit much, :-P.