Author's Note: Hi again. Didn't take long for me to update this time, coz it's the HOLIDAYS!!! But I expect it will take slightly longer next time. Thanks sooo much to everyone who has reviewed. They've all meant so much :)
I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following names or places.
Azla: I'm glad you like the story! I will definitely consider the Legolas and Aragorn idea. In fact, it will fit in perfectly! Thanx!
Pipinheart: I certainly do think about people in this situation a lot, because my friend can actually sign. I feel proud, because I can sign all the vowels! LOL. Thanks for the review.
Ice Ember: I'm glad you like this story, thanks for the review!
Camellia Gamgee-Took: Thank you for the kind words, it's wonderful to hear good things about this. I was a little unsure about it. Thanks!
Tini-Angel: Wow, thanks, your review almost made me cry. One of my favourite things about writing is the 'movie in my mind', and I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one! LOL, soz about the grammar, I'm pretty lazy when it comes to that. Thanks for the review.
Chapter Two: Rivendell
Pippin
I've decided that it is much better here in Rivendell, then it was in Bree.
Not a hard observation to make. It's absolutely beautiful here. Especially beautiful now that Frodo has woken up, and is on his feet once more. As soon as he is back from that council, we should find Sam and go for a stroll.
Merry's fallen fast asleep at my side. Lazy hobbit. He has warned me about poking him to wake him up, unless it's important. Again, one of those times where I wish I had a voice. Never has he mentioned shouting to wake him. Instead I lie back on the soft grass and breathe in the clean fresh air.
It is such a relief to see Frodo up and about. Waiting by his bedside for so long was absolute torture. Sam paced back and forth continually. All my life, Sam has always been the dependable one: the hobbit that never worries about things, and remains calm. He has always been so positive, especially where I am concerned. Ever supportive, during my silence. Seeing him so edgy was a shock. It was impossible to catch his attention, and therefore I had no words of comfort to offer. Don't think I had any at all, besides.
Merry... Merry did not even look up mostly. When we were sheparded out of Frodo's room, to eat or sleep, we were both silent. Occasionally he would attempt to be comforting, but mostly he had nothing positive to say. He signed more than he spoke, and he rarely signed. This disturbed me much more than Sam's behavior. Never before had my cousin been so miserable.
For the most part, I spent my time thinking... remembering Frodo from my childhood. How kind he was after my illness. The hours he spent at my side, crying with me, encouraging me to eat, lifting my spirit... to lose Frodo would be...
There's no word to describe what a loss that would be. I don't think I could go on without him. Even with Merry close by. Nightmares plagued my nights: visions of his funeral.
There were times when all I wanted to do was run through the halls and scream... but I couldn't.
I had wished over and over that I could speak again, and perhaps call him back to us. Instead, I stood by his head and made signs above his face, in a vain attempt of communication. I figured I may as well: Merry and Sam spoke to him when he could not hear: why not sign to him when he cannot see?
Perhaps it did work. Frodo woke the next day, alive and well... generally. Though actually, Lord Elrond was the miracle worker.
I can see him by the archway, talking with his daughter. He was sympathetic when we were introduced, yet had other, more important things to tend to, than try to speak to me. Arwen. I have only met her the once. Conversely, she knelt at my side immediately, and cupped my face, staring gently into my eyes.
There was some connection between us, and I smiled suddenly when I felt it, despite my worry for Frodo. Somehow I sensed that she wished me well, and had hope for my cousin.
I remember signing a clumsy thank you, and she smiled, understanding perfectly. Time was short, and she had to hurry away, but she stood gracefully and squeezed my shoulder as she left, calling out a warm farewell.
Merry had to shake me out of my reverie then, and laughed later about my rudeness. The only laugh I heard from him until Frodo woke up. I noticed that he and Sam were somewhat smitten as well, however. The nerve of him.
Arwen is waving to me from her father's side, and I sheepishly wave back, wondering how long I have been staring blankly in her direction. I notice her smile as she hurries after Lord Elrond, and sigh, flushing.
Strider is not far away, rubbing a soft cloth over his long sword. If I didn't know better, I would think he is watching over me. He was awfully nice during our wait for Frodo. In fact, he was the one who forced Merry and I to eat, when we refused. I feel ashamed now, doubting him at first in Bree.
His signs have improved greatly, since that night. Frodo has taught him to sign my name, and different words even, as opposed to emotions. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves when making a symbol for his name. I was pushing my own invention: touching the tips of my fingers and my palm together, which I later realised looks somewhat like a crown. Strider requested a simple clenched fist against the other palm. But I triumphed, with two out of three hobbits voting with me.
That other man, Boromir, is standing awkwardly beyond Strider, watching the ranger clean his sword. I liked him from the first, but he is rather distant on occasion. He definitely has an issue with Strider, but I'll be darned if I know what it is.
I met Gandalf earlier, at breakfast. Frodo was sitting at my side, translating for me cheerfully, but the odd thing was, I don't think Gandalf needed the translation. He said nothing to Frodo, but held my eyes as I signed, and seemed to nod at certain intervals. I think he was very surprised at the change. I remember meeting him first as Bilbo's 111th birthday party. Even then, I was probably the loudest young hobbit in all of the Shire. Not afraid of anything.
Frodo had of course told him years ago, when it first happened, but perhaps he still expected jolly smiles and expressions. They died along with my voice, I am afraid.
Merry does not think so. He guesses that they will return when they feel ready.
He can think what he wants. I am too comfortable to worry about my expressions just now. Perhaps they will return.
I'm still rather excited by the presence of all these elves. Meeting those elves in the Shire was wonderful. One touched my forehead when I grew tired, and I fell fast asleep straight away; a sleep full of wonderful, sweet dreams. In the morning I was completely refreshed.
It feels much the same here, only all of the time. Wonderful meals, too.
Yawning, I look over at Merry again. Still asleep. Well, it's been an hour or two now, I suppose. Almost time for lunch, by now, surely?
I risk it: I poke him hard in the stomach.
Merry yelps, and sits bolt upright. Looking around wildly, he eventually exhales, and fixes me with an icy glare. He does not even bother to sign.
"Peregrin," he growls. "What have I told you?"
You've been asleep all afternoon, lazy. I've no one to talk to. True enough: Sam and Frodo have disappeared, and Strider looks to be talking with Boromir. I think...
No reason to poke me. Signs Merry, waking up a little and shaking himself.
Sure it is, Merry. You need your beauty sleep: do it at night.
I laugh silently at the expression on his face. I only wish he could hear it. I do miss my laugh. Frodo used to call it infectious. I wonder if he misses it too.
Watch yourself, Took. Merry warns, stretching his arms. You could end up sleeping in the hallway tonight. I could do with a good night's sleep. I'll push your bed next to mine, and spread out.
You wouldn't do that, Mer. What if you have a nightmare? Merry scoffs, and I have to admit, it does sound a little strange. I don't think Merry has nightmares.
I suppose I wouldn't kick you out, Pip. Can't have you waking up everyone when you snore.
That was uncalled for. I do not snore.
I turn over and leap at Merry, pinning him to the ground, and reaching down to tickle his sides. A good trick: has always worked, all through childhood, and apparently now in adulthood. Merry yelps again, and tries to squirm away, but for once, I am the one in control of this tousle.
Soon he manages to push me off, and we collapse to the ground, giggling. Merry turns his head to look at me, with a lopsided grin.
"You... haven't done that for... the longest time, Pip." He pants.
What?
"Attack me... not for years, I don't think."
Amazed, I frown, thinking hard. He's right: I don't recall having such fun in a very long time. I had always thought that part of me to be lost, after the illness, but... Who knows? Perhaps some of me is coming back.
TBC, please R&R
