Author's Note: Yet again, blown away by the fantastic reviews. Thankyoouuuu. I'm actually really enjoying writing this, unlike Little One... I think I killed it. Sigh. shuffles off to revive it
This chapter are just short POV's from other friends of Pippin, nothing too long. Please note: I have no idea if Laryngitis can actually cause a person to lose their voice permanently, but it just fit in well with this story. I also have no idea if a person's voice would be able to be bought back, but for fictional purposes, let's just assume it can be.
I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following names or places.
Azla: I'm very glad you're enjoying this so much! I don't think I've ever been added to favorites, it's an honor. LOL. The Aragorn/Legolas scene is coming up soon.
Arlewen: Wow, it's nice to know Voice Within is reaching people, LOL. I've always thought Pippin to have several different layers, so... :) Thanx for the review!
Tini-angel: Hehehe, yea, Pippin is slowly coming back. Isn't he gorgeous? Thanks very much for the review.
Ice Ember: Glad you're enjoying it so much! Thank you for the review.
Pipinheart: I'm afraid I can't tell you about his voice: that would spoil the surprise, LOL. Never fear, I'll look after Pip. Thanks for your review.
Immortal Sorrow (Arrow): I'm glad you like the story! Thanks for the review.
FoolforaTook: Your review meant a lot to me. I have no real experience with sign language but my friend can sign, so I have picked up one or two gestures. Mostly swear words he has invented, LOL. I'm happy that you and your sister are enjoying this fic.
Herald7: I was skeptical when I started to, but I'm still enjoying writing it, so it must be a good sign, LOL. Thanks for the review.
Chapter Three: Rivendell
Boromir
I have been standing here for ten minutes at least. No doubt he knows that I am here: he is a ranger, after all. Still, I acknowledge my stubborn side, and refuse to speak first. How is it that I run into this man, everywhere I turn?
Instead I raise my gaze above his head, and notice the two young halflings, wrestling playfully on the grass. The elder, Meriadoc, I think his name was, has been pinned to the ground, and is laughing. The little one has been victorious, yet no teasing cries have issued from his mouth. This strikes me as odd in itself: from what I have learnt of hobbits, they are a noisy folk. Meriadoc suddenly wriggles away and pushes his friend to the ground, and for a moment they lay there panting.
"You... haven't done that for... the longest time, Pip." I hear him say, breathing heavily. To my surprise, the young one simply raises his hands, to form a pattern with his fingers.
Meriadoc replies immediately, and I blink.
It is then that I realise Aragorn is looking at me. I shake my head slightly, and open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it.
"Watching the hobbits, Boromir?" Wincing inwardly, I nod, meeting his gaze reluctantly.
"What is wrong with the little one?" I ask slowly, regretfully. Aragorn's wry smile fades slightly, and he glances back at the pair.
"Peregrin? He has been mute for nigh on five years now. Laryngitis stole his voice."
Slowly I realise the implications of this: a hobbit with no voice.
"It is hard for his friends, I am sure. Frodo tells me that before his illness, he was the most talkative hobbit in the whole of the Shire. Always laughing and singing. A simple chuckle could brighten anyone's spirit. His illness destroyed that part of him."
I look down at this man before me, intrigued. For all his tough outward appearance, he obviously cares deeply for these small folk. Halflings he has known only weeks.
Gazing back at Peregrin, I frown. For someone so young, it must be a nightmarish thing to live without his voice. I bid farewell to Aragorn, and return to my room, wondering if there is truly nothing that could be done for him.
...
Legolas
I cannot help a smile as the hobbit wraps his arms around Aragorn's waist, and gives him a grateful hug, twisting his neck so as to beam up at the man. Aragorn hugs him back, and ruffles his hair, signing something briefly. Peregrin grins and waves at us both, turning and running after his cousin.
"What did you tell him?" Aragorn turns to me, chuckling.
"Just that I had put aside a meal for himself and his friends." I turn to watch the lad as he vanishes off the path and into the bushes, my smile growing unconsciously. Pippin's face had lit up like a bonfire when Aragorn first called him over to sign something, so I had assumed it had something to do with his cousin, Frodo, or perhaps a praise of some sort. Evidentially, hobbit's like their food.
"He is very physical, in his affection, then." I remark, sitting down upon the bench. The man joins me, nodding his head.
"I suppose he has to be." He says quietly. "He cannot express his feelings verbally... He's had to learn to show them in other ways." I glance around to look at my friend thoughtfully, wondering at the bond he has formed with these little folk over the past weeks.
"What has been done, Aragorn, in so much as trying to bring his voice back?" Aragorn shakes his head, sighing.
"Everything, my friend. Every healer in the Shire has been consulted, every healing herb or spice tried, and nothing has had positive results. Even I am at a loss. I don't think there is anything that can be done. Especially now, after five years."
Frowning, I think back to my childhood. I remember... something... There was a case once, where a young man lost his voice to a similar illness to Peregrin's. It took a long while and it was unfortunately rather painful, but over time, with regular vocal exercises, his voice returned. Weakened, and faint, but in months to come, it grew stronger. Supposing Peregrin had the patience to commit to the exercises, there could possibly be a way to bring back his own voice.
"Perhaps I can help." I say softly, and Aragorn shifts his gaze to include me hopefully.
"In what way?"
...
Gimli
An elf. I cannot believe I just held a polite, if a tad short, conversation with an elf. Well, somewhat polite. And such an elf! Relative of one who locked my father up, all those years ago.
The last few minutes were not a complete waste, however. Legolas was able to tell me something of the halflings. My father spoke highly of the ringbearer, Master Baggins. Having just met him for the first time this morning, I am inclined to agree with him. Obviously a very courageous hobbit.
Sam Gamgee was quite a surprise. That young one is clearly devoted to Frodo, to go as far as to intrude upon the council. I chuckle softly, strolling along the garden paths.
The elf did, however, surprise me with the news that the youngest hobbit is mute. My father has had dealings with hobbits for quite a long time, and from what he has conveyed to me, it would be a tragedy for any halfling to be without a voice. Having just spoken with Aragorn, Legolas was of the impression that Peregrin had always been a very cheerful, extremely loud youngster, until his illness.
The other, Meriadoc, has assumed the role of his primary caregiver, evidentially. The pair are scarcely seen out of each other's company, although I have yet to discover which is which, not having met either of them.
Soft footsteps nearby alert me to the approach of a young hobbit. Pausing to glance at him, I realise it must be one of the two younger ones. Almost golden curls frame his young face, and his bright green eyes stare out at me, twinkling somewhat mischievously.
As he notices me, he stops dead for a moment, before smiling brightly, and raising his hand in a greeting.
"Good afternoon, little master." I say warmly, stepping closer to take his hand. Suddenly the hobbit looks embarrassed; flushing, and glancing around quickly.
"What is wrong, lad?" I ask, gazing at him in confusion. I had half expected him to speak first: not decline to answer at all. The hobbit lowers his gaze, and sighs. I have never known a hobbit to by shy, so his behavior takes me somewhat off-guard.
"Ah," I say, suddenly understanding. "You must be Peregrin."
He nods, relieved. I smile, and shake my head slightly.
"My apologies, lad. It is most embarrassing, but I had not yet learnt which of you was which." Peregrin grins at me, and makes a slight movement with his hands, before his expression darkens again. He must have tried to sign, and remembered too late that I would not understand.
Compassion and pity suddenly flows through me, and I wish there was something I could do. Glancing around, I spy a small patch of dirt, hidden smartly behind a tall clump of grass. Bending, I snatch up a small twig, and hand it to Peregrin, pointing to the dirt.
His mouth forms an 'o' of understanding, and he crouches quickly, scratching away with his makeshift pen. Eventually he steps back, and I lean over to read.
'Very pleased to meet you Gimli. My name is Peregrin, as you know, but you can call me Pippin,' he has scrawled into the dirt. I smile, and offer a hand, which he takes in relief.
"Very pleased to meet you also, Master Pippin."
Bilbo
"Very amusing, uncle." Laughs a cheery voice nearby. Surprised, I turn to see Frodo approaching flanked by his two young friends. As I wave, it takes me several moments to realise that they are in fact my young nephews.
Meriadoc was nineteen when I last met with him. It must have been at my 111th birthday party. He always was a wonderful lad, constantly at my Frodo's side, and ever supportive, during my absence. Gandalf has kept me up to date, to a certain extent. It seems that wherever Frodo went, Merry went with him. For that I am ever grateful.
The younger, Peregrin, was a mere child when I last saw him: barely eleven years old. From what I knew of him, he has always been a loud, cheery and sweet lad, and very fond of both Frodo and Merry. I will be surprised if he even remembers me, from all those years ago. I have learnt, however, that Took's have remarkable memories.
"I assume you remember Merry, uncle." Says Frodo as he sits at my side, pulling Merry forwards by the sleeve. I turn a smile up at the tall young hobbit, amazed at how similar he looks to old Saradoc.
"Of course I do, Frodo. Hello Meriadoc, it's been quite a while." Merry smiles and extends a hand, but no less than a hug will do for such an occasion. I tell him so, and pull him down into such an embrace. Merry laughs then, and sits at Frodo's side.
"It certainly has, Bilbo. I'm surprised you even remember me." Frodo laughs at this jest, and I playfully reach over to cuff my nephew's shoulder.
"You've been a bad influence on your cousins, Frodo." I warn, smiling.
"Not all my cousins, uncle. You must remember little Pippin, then?"
Ah, Pippin. That was the name. Quite fitting, really. Pippin steps forwards shyly, and smiles, but I treat him the same as Merry: pulling him down into a hug.
"Now let's see, Pippin: Last I saw of you, Merry had just convinced you to try and steal one of Gandalf's fireworks." Pippin grinned, but no words were forth coming. Frodo and Merry exchange a quick glance, and Frodo pulls Pippin back, to sit between us.
"Bilbo, I had quite forgotten that you did not know. I don't know why I did not tell you earlier, actually. Other things were on my mind." He paused, draping an arm around Pippin's slender shoulders, and I gesture for him to continue. "Almost five years ago, Pip here was terribly ill."
"Ah, now that I definitely remember, lad." I cut in, saying to Peregrin. "I spent a fair bit of time at your home in Whitwell, helping your da Paladin to care for you, when you were ill." Pippin nodded appreciatively, but still he was silent.
"As I was saying, Pippin... No one knew what was happening, Bilbo, but after a week or two, Pippin lost his voice. It... has never returned."
Now that is a shock. All Took's are rather loud, even for hobbits. Especially this youngster. No doubt, such a loss would be a terrible thing for his family. I can't begin to imagine how such a thing would have changed the once carefree, jolly relation of mine.
"My poor lad," I say softly, reaching out to cup his young face. Pippin gazes back with a slight smile, and places his own hand gently upon mine. He makes a slight gesture with his spare hand, and Frodo smiles, hugging Pippin tightly about the waist.
"Bilbo, Pippin says he is pleased to meet you again."
TBC, please r&r
