A/N: Any inaccuracies or general bad writing is down to the horrible flu-ish thing that I have. It's because of it that I couldn't sleep and started writing at 2AM.

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Gone, they'd said. Lost, vanished, dead.

Dead indeed.

He certainly didn't look dead. In fact, he couldn't have looked more alive. He ought to fetch those fools right now and shove his son in their faces. But he had no time for that now. No, he had an army to muster, by order of his son. By order of his son… Well well, that hadn't happened before. His son giving orders like that was… well, it was unnatural. He'd never been the commanding sort before he'd gone. Perhaps he'd come back with more than just outlandish clothes and three inches height.

'' '' ''

He only wished he'd had the same faith that Pimpernel had had. Perhaps then he wouldn't feel so guilty, so awful, so inadequate. He'd lost all hope for his son's homecoming, and he hadn't' been the only one, he knew. But no one could feel so ashamed as him at that moment.

Gone, they'd said. Lost, vanished, dead. And he'd believed every word. He'd lapped it up and then he'd brought his family down with him, down into misery and grief.

He was glad to have Pippin home, of course. He couldn't remember being so overjoyed. But in remembering his doubt, he was strangely subdued for such a wonderful occasion, and Pippin noticed.

He looked at his father, and Paladin saw something there, in his face and expression. He'd never been able to read his son as well as he could anyone else. Confusion? Hurt? Resentment? Understanding, perhaps? He hoped it was the last. He didn't think he could explain, and he wouldn't be able to face Pippin if he knew he had hurt him in any way. And he'd never be able to bear being hated by his only son.

Pippin came to Paladin last, his mother and sisters thoroughly assured of his well-being for now. All thoughts of shame and guilt fleeing for a second, Paladin realised he now had to look up at his son. He'd realised he'd gotten taller, he wasn't so bad a father as all that, It just hadn't really registered. But he could still see into those big eyes, no matter how tall he was. And there was something new in them. Before he could look any deeper, he was pulled into a crushing embrace, was stunned for a split second, and hugged back, just as hard.

Pippin understood.

Oh, his lad had grown in more ways than one.

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There is also a sort of side story to go with this chapter that expands on some of the details mentioned. It might be posted later today if I can tidy it up a bit.

Also, if you're reading this, I think I can reach the safe conclusion that you have read this chapter and are now going to review :)

I'm shameless, really I am.