Summary: Pippin's POV during part of the fellowship
Disclaimer: I do not own the wee hobbit or LOTR
A/N: This is only my opinion of what he might of thought. Any reviews are welcome, flames just amuse me
Elven Kitten: We like sad Pippin, makes you just want to hug him!
shadow929: I wish to hug the hobbit as well, and thanks!
Gods-girl2004: errr Sorryyou do not like the fic, perhaps yours will be more to your liking.
Well I want to thank those who reviewed. Now on with the fic!
Chapter 7
The morning sun was a bitter sight for the hobbit. His night had been spent conversing with Merry, sharing tales of what had happened to each while the other was away. Pippin had learned that Merry loved the Lady Eowyn, but knew she could never love him back, This was a shock to Pippin, as he had only know Merry to be a carefree hobbit who liked to pull pranks and send the other hobbits into fits of rage at their antics, not one who could fall into love with another.
Pippin, in turn, told Merry of the witchking and the breaking of Gandaf's staff. Until that moment Pippin had thought the Istari invincible, that nothing could ever defeat him, for he had battled death and returned, so to see him fall had crushed the hobbit's hopes of survival in the war.
As Merry rolled over in his sleep, Pippin stared out of the window, glancing down at the still smoldering embers of the last fires for the burning of the dead. Already the war had taken so many, Theodred and his father, Boromir, and even Gandalf had fallen to the evils of Sauron.
What of Sam and Frodo, Pippin thought. Did they yet still live? Pippin did not think they could have survived long out in the wilds of Mordor, but in his heart he held a small glimmer of hope for them, even though Gandalf had warned him it was a fool's hope.
Today they were to ride out to meet the Black Gates head on. Faramir still lay in the Houses of Healing, trying to recover from his ordeal with the orcs and then his father. Pippin hoped he could be healed, not just physically, but mentally as well. Pippin knew that Faramir had lost everything, his father and brother gone now, and Pippin hoped he could find someone to share his grief with, for Pippin considered him a great friend.
Pippin sighed as the last of the morning passed and woke Merry. After putting on his armor and donning his sword, Pippin turned and grabbed Merry before they walked out. "Today we are going into battle. I, for one, fear that battle and do not think it will end well. If I should fall, I want you to know my love for you as a brother in arms, and for you to know I have been honored to call you a friend."
Merry choked up at these words and placed a hand on Pippin shoulder. "Only a year ago I thought you a nuisance at times, someone who always got me into trouble, but now I see standing before me a warrior, someone that is no longer a carefree hobbit living in The Shire, but one who has witnessed the horrors of battle. Come, let us go now one more time and face down the enemy. Let us give Frodo and Sam the chance to end this evil, and should I fall today, let it be known that I am forever in your debt."
Pippin wrinkled his brow in confusion. "Why are you in my debt?"
"Because despite all that has happened, Pippin, you have the one thing that no one else has -- hope."
Together they rode out to meet Sauron at the Black Gate, Merry behind Eomer and Pippin riding with Gandalf. Legolas had taken the time, Pippin noticed, to braid Aragorn's hair in the elvish fashion, and he looked now like a man determined to win. Aragorn called out inside the gate, asking for Sauron to show himself, but what came out was not Sauron, but the Voice of Sauron; a man, Pippin supposed, that was horribly figured, with a covering over his face.
Pippin shuddered, a strong urge to be sick filling him. He listened as the thing spoke, telling them that Frodo was not now trying to reach the fires of Mordor as planned but somewhere inside, dead. Pippin screamed out in anguish.
"No!", he screamed, not wanting to believe his friends were gone. The thing only spoke of Frodo; what of Sam?
Pippin didn't think Frodo would be anywhere without Sam and assumed Sam had also died, trying to protect his master. His eyes filled with tears, his mind a jumble of thoughts. Had all their efforts been in vain? Had Theoden and the others died for nothing?
Pippin had cried out, but had been hushed by Gandalf, told not to believe the lies of this creature, but the creature pulled from its side the mithril vest worn by Frodo and threw it out onto the ground. This time the cry in Pippin's throat could not be silenced, and he wailed in grief. As his eyes widened, he watched Aragorn take the head from the creature and watched its body fall from the horse.
"Now is not the time for tears, " Aragorn spoke, "now is the time to take back our lands and rid all of Middle Earth of the foulness of Mordor."
Pippin listened, his heart gaining a new desire. He would have revenge for those who had been lost. He would avenge Frodo and Sam and Theoden. He would avenge Boromir, for Faramir could not. He would avenge them all, and to death take their glory with him.
When Aragorn finished his speech, the men of Rohan and Gondor answered back with cries of war. Aragorn raised his sword one last time and raced toward the Black Gate, but it was not the strong men of Gondor, or even Rohan, who followed him next but two little hobbits who led the way into battle, their stature small, but their hearts and courage larger than any foe they would meet.