Author's Note: Hellooo again, thanks so much to everyone who has reviewed. It's really such a nice surprise to open my mail and find them. It's the highlight of my day. I'm sorry it's taken such a long time to update, but my School Certificate Trials have started, which means study, study, study... study... sigh. Then in a few weeks, the actual School Certificate begins, so... another delay. LOL, I hate school.

I do not own Tolkien, or any of the following names or places.

Sunn-kissed: Don't worry, Legolas will have a more prominent role from now on. Thanks for reading and reviewing, lol.

Azla: Ah, I'm so glad you're enjoying this so much! Yea, any pain on Pippin's behalf is generally a very bad thing, but I'll look after him. Thanks for the review.

Hai Took: I don't usually enjoy this style of writing either, but it's actually very fun to write! Especially with Pippin, because he is so complex. Thanks for the kind words.

Aussie-Girl3: LOL thanks for the review. Any more will be very welcome. :)

Thebarrowwights: LOL, I totally agree. Imagine, no singing-Pippin. :( Still, things are only getting better for Pip. Thanks for the review.

Hola-pikachu: Hey lil' bro, thanks for the nice review.

Ice Ember: Do you know, that never really occurred to me? LOL. I suppose it would take a long while to learn the language, though. Still, what a great idea. Thanks for the review.

Pipinheart: Thanks very much for the review and kind words. It's great to hear from you again!

Tini-angel: LOL, I've laughed aloud at the computer before. Very very embarrassing. Good luck with getting your own computer, lol, I've only had one for two years. It is wonderful! Pippin's always beyond gorgeous... :) Thanks for the review.

Immortal Sorrow: I was really glad to hear your remark about Little One. It gave me the courage to go and try to rescue it, lol. Next chap should be up in a few days, but I'll admit here and now, I am not entirely proud of it! Thanks for the kind review.

Chapter Four: Hollin

Frodo

Once again, we have Pippin to thank for the greatly renewed senses of humor and lighthearted chatter of the fellowship. Only minutes ago, our weary company was almost silent, and it was not hard to feel the tension between Legolas and Gimli namely, but also Aragorn and Boromir.

Pippin had fidgeted uncomfortably for a time, clearly missing the lack of conversation around him. Although he had not a voice to contribute, Pippin had quickly regained his love of talk after his illness. My cousin has never dealt well when all is silent. The irony of that is almost heartbreaking.

So, utterly bored, Pippin climbed to his feet, crossed to Aragorn, and simply began pleading for an early meal.

I am witnessing a part of Pippin that I had thought long gone. Since Rivendel, his playful, cheeky side seems to have remerged at long last. Even now, as I watch him banter happily with Aragorn, I cannot recall the last time Pippin's eyes shone so. His mouth has been twisted into a wide grin since he began to talk. With a jolt, I realise that he has not looked so happy since before his illness five years ago.

With nothing else to do, the others had begun watching this conversation in mild interest, before Legolas laughed, and slowly began to translate for them. The elf was soon drawn into their 'argument', as were Boromir and Gimli. Pippin dragged Sam to his side for assistance, while Merry laughed and called encouragement. And thus the Fellowship became one again, and all thanks to a little pleading from Pippin.

Aragorn has been improving his hand gestures, and for the first time this morning, I realised that he could in fact make conversation with Pippin using only his hands. This delights pippin, glad for the extra company I suppose. I've also noticed that Legolas has a good understanding of the language. I frown, thinking back. Actually, Legolas has been spending quite a lot of time alone with my cousin. Mostly just talking, as far as I can tell. I'll have to ask Pippin about it later.

Merry catches my attention silently and points at our young friend. I cannot help a smile as I see Pippin eagerly recalling the time Sam baby-sat him as a toddler. Aragorn is now translating for the rest of the company, all chuckling in amusement. Sam's face has flushed a dark shade of red.

For Sam's sake, I almost hope he excludes the part about all the smashed dishes... Oh well. That at least provoked quite a lot of sympathetic shoulder-squeezes for poor Sam. And quite a of laughter also.

Gandalf seems to have no trouble understanding Pippin, so Boromir and Gimli are really the only two who still have to master the language. They can recognize the names of all the fellowship, at least, and by now know several basic words. For the most part, we have given Pippin artistic license with the creating of names. But there is only so much that should be allowed. Once, after coming out second best in a war of words with Merry, Pippin tried to convince Boromir to start calling his cousin by one of our most vulgar hand gestures. Sam got to the man first, and that word was quickly banned.

Deep down, however, that incident gave myself and Merry hope. For five long years Pippin has been only a shadow of the young hobbit he once was. Perhaps leaving the Shire was what triggered it, but I am so glad it is coming back.

It's not hard to tell that everyone else in the Fellowship have quickly become fond of Pippin. Hard as it is for Gimli and Boromir to communicate with him, they never simply ignore him. In fact, mostly they go out of their way to talk to him, or ask him simple, easy-to-answer without a voice questions.

Pippin evidentially has won the argument, as Aragorn hands him a well-earned, bright red apple. Pippin beams at him, and bounds back over to sit at my side, bowing to the applause from the others as he does so. I hang my arm over his shoulder, and grin at him, eyes working furiously in an attempt to read his flurried hand gestures.

Isn't this fantastic, Frodo? They can understand me! All along, I thought I would only have you, Merry and Sam to talk to!

Are you implying that we are not good enough conversation, Peregrin? Long ago, we decided that there would have to be two gestures for both his names: a playful one, and a serious one, to suit each. He laughs silently at the latter, and pokes me gently in the side.

Never, cousin Frodo. You've put up with these... He struggles a moment in remembering a decent curse, and evidentially gives up. –Hand movements. You're always good conversation. But now you may not have to translate for me so often.

I never minded, Pip. I say, leaning forwards to give him a hug.

I know. That's why you're one of my favourite cousins!

I raise my eyebrows, and lean back contentedly against my pack. Closing my eyes, I struggle to remember a time when I did not have to read hand signals. I decide that it has never mattered to me, as long as I had a way of communication with my beloved cousin.

A hard poke in my side reminds me that Pippin had been talking, and I guiltily open my eyes, meeting Pippin's frustrated hand expression, a hair's breadth away from my nose.

Sorry.

You should be. I ask again: Do you ever miss home?

I blink at the question. Of course I miss the Shire: every waking moment of every single day I miss Hobbiton, and Bag End.

Of course I do, Pippin... Do you? The brief darkening of Pippin's eyes is enough on an answer for me, but I wait patiently for him to put it into words. Yet again, I feel that familiar stab of guilt: Pippin should never have come with me.

Yes, of course, and I miss da and mother... and even my sisters, but I don't actually miss the Shire as much as I thought I would. He admits. This confuses me, and I straighten, turning to look directly at my cousin. His eyes hold a certain wistful longing, but he does not look truly unhappy.

You don't?

Well... I miss feeling safe there, I suppose. I do miss the Shire itself. But I don't miss the... occupants... of the Shire. I don't miss hiding away in my room, unable to even venture outside without you or Merry. For a moment, he spreads his arms wide, and gestures slowly to those spread out around us. Then he returns his gaze to me, and smiles faintly.

Out here, I figured it would be the same, but no one here is afraid of me. They don't worry about what to say and what not to. It's like they've accepted me. I've... not truly felt that since before I got sick. Only with you and Merry and Sam.

I look down with a sad smile, understanding well. Pippin used to be such a well-loved hobbit of the Shire, with dozens of young friends. More recently, rarely would any of his old friends come near him, and he certainly did not make any new ones. Those who did not understand were afraid: Perhaps they could catch the same thing. Those who did, did not want to. It was hard to imagine anything of the sort happening in the Shire. Most hobbits just tried to ignore the fact.

Such reactions were heartbreaking for all of us who loved Pippin. My poor little lad, going through all of this at such a young age. It did not look like he would ever be the Thain now.

But he is right: everyone in the Fellowship has accepted him for the sweet soul that he is. With or without a voice, he does not seem to need it. I raise my eyes once more and extend my arms, and Pippin shuffles forwards for a hug.

I'm so sorry you had to live with this, Pippin. If there was anything I could do to help you I would. I notice Pippin struggle to contain a smile at this, but think nothing of it. But I'm ever so glad that you feel at home out here, in the rugged and dirty wilderness. You'll have tangled hair and dirty clothes once more in no time.

Pippin smiles at the jest, but understands the deeper meaning. He hugs me tighter, and sits back, resting his shoulders against my folded knee and stretching out his legs.

Me? Look at yourself, cousin. A brush wouldn't hurt, you know. Delighted to hear something so reminiscent of a much younger Pippin, I grin, and run a hand through my own tangled curls.

Quite right, Pippin. A bath wouldn't go astray either.

Then a warm meal, a story from Strider, and a long night's sleep, in a warm bed with extra blankets, Finished Pippin, smiling dreamily.

You can have whatever your little head can dream up, Pippin. I say with a yawn. Just don't use my stomach again for a pillow tonight.

I did no such thing. I am not a child anymore, Frodo, says he, somewhat indignantly. I just smile and tousle his chestnut curls affectionately.

Don't I know it.

TBC, Please r&r