CHAPTER ONE

"Sam, let me take that—you know you’ve got too much there!"

"I’m fine, Mr. Pippin. If someone could just get the door for me? Thank you, Mr. Merry!" Pippin brought up the rear of the troop of hobbits, all laden with a post-dinner meal of oddments from the kitchens. They were determined to enter Frodo’s room as quietly as possible, since he could have fallen asleep already. Pippin hoped he might have done just that; his cousin was still far too pale for his liking, even now, a full week after he woke up in the Houses of Healing.

The bed, however, was undisturbed. The room itself was dimly lit by the fire, and Merry walked over to poke the embers back to life.

Sam looked around for his master. "Mr. Frodo? Where are you?"

"I’m here, Sam" came from the balcony just as the fire leapt up in the hearth.

Luckily, Pippin was standing next to the gardener in that moment, so he was able to catch the two plates as they began to tip out of Sam’s suddenly lax grip. "Whoops, Samwise! I told you you had too much on your hands!" He glanced up, laughing, at Sam, but was shocked to see that his face was ashen, his eyes wide with fear. "Sam? Sam, are you all right?"

A confused expression crossed Sam’s face, and then was blinked away. "What? Yes, I’m fine…" but Pippin could see strong hands still trembling as they wiped away sweat and, he suspected, some tears as well.

"Here—sit down."

"No, I’ll be all right; let me get Mr. Frodo his plate, so he can eat and then get some rest." With his jaw firmly set against all argument, he took the food outside to the balcony, but, Pippin noticed, he left his own plate behind.

Some time later, after coaxing Frodo to sit down in front of the fireplace and join his cousins in their evening meal, Sam slipped back out onto the balcony, alone. Pippin left Frodo and Merry gossiping about their caretakers in the Houses of Healing, poured two glasses of the wine that Merry had brought, and joined his fellow traveler looking over the Pellenor Fields, towards Osgiliath and beyond, to the mountains bordering Mordor. "Here, Sam, something for your throat."

"How did you know…?"

"Those fumes did neither you nor Frodo any good, and it’s only been three weeks since Mt. Doom exploded." Pippin stared at the wide expanse of land, strewn with the rubble of battle, then lifted his gaze to the East. "You can’t see the mountain anymore, not from here. But when Gandalf and I first arrived, it was inescapable."

"Inescapable…yet we escaped." Pippin could hear Sam swallow the wine as if he hadn’t drunk anything in weeks, staring broodingly at the dark expanse of sky and craggy outlines to the East. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he turned to Pippin at last. Thanking him for the wine, he returned inside. Pippin heard him gather up the empty dishes, bid the two still talking goodnight, and leave the room. Pippin remained on the balcony for some time, until Merry and Frodo asked if he was planning on sleeping out there.

"Nay, cousins, I’m merely contemplating a few questions. Something better slept on in my own bed, most likely! Goodnight, gentlehobbits!"

CHAPTER TWO

The next day dawned bright and clear. Pippin squinted into the sunlight as he looked out of his window while he dressed. He stopped by Merry’s room to collect his cousin for an early visit to the kitchens of the house the hobbits shared with Gandalf. When they arrived, they were surprised to see the wizard at the table.

"Gandalf, are you going to be around today, or do you have more business to attend to with Aragorn and Faramir?" asked Pippin.

"Well, unlike certain Guards of the Citadel, wizards do not get every fourth day off." Gandalf looked behind the hobbits, and then asked, "Where’s Samwise? He’s usually up earlier than you two."

Merry was startled to hear that Sam had not yet come down to eat, but Pippin wasn’t. "He probably didn’t sleep well. He was a bit shaken up last night, though he won’t admit to it. I think he’s remembering Mordor." Pippin crossed over to get the bread out of the cupboard.

The wizard’s eyes saddened. "Yes, he and Frodo both will be remembering, as will the two of you. You’ve all been through so much, more than any hobbit should ever have to endure."

At that, Pippin’s head popped back out of the larder. His eyes narrowed and looked into Gandalf’s. "Maybe we shouldn’t have had to go through everything, but we did. And we did deeds of renown, things that will be sung of for years to come. Frodo will probably become a legend long past our lifetimes, as will Sam. So don’t ever tell us again that hobbits don’t belong, Gandalf. We may be small and unused to battle, but we learn!"

Silence reigned over the kitchen table. Merry’s eyes widened, but then his jaw jutted out as he nodded. Gandalf’s eyebrows beetled as he stared at the younger hobbit in surprise, but slowly unknotted as he, too, nodded. "You’re right, Peregrin Took. I suppose that I cannot protect you or your people any more. You can handle yourselves, as the last few months have shown." He smiled, and said, "My past remarks have come back to haunt me! I take it you didn’t like my comments during the siege, hmm?"

"No, and not to speak ill of the brave departed, but Merry didn’t like hearing the same thing from Theoden King, either! You probably told him not to take Merry along to Minas Tirith before we left, didn’t you?"

"Yes, I did. I really did think it best, though—neither of you had been in battle before, save for the small skirmishes on our journey, and I didn’t think that you should have to go to war. Of course, I was proved wrong. You both had something to do, and you accomplished your tasks admirably!"

As Merry flushed with pleasure, Pippin remained troubled. "You say that we should not have gone to war, but you still sent Frodo and Sam to Mordor—a far worse place than any battle I can imagine."

Gandalf looked down at his clasped hands. "They were the only ones who could go. I see that now, even though I intended to help Frodo as much as I could for as long as I could. Who knows? Perhaps I was able to do more good in Rohan and here than on their journey." He looked up at Pippin. "They will need both of you to help them with their memories. Good hobbit sense might well prove to be the remedy, here, instead of interference from a busybody of a wizard!"

Good hobbit sense.  The phrase swirled in Pippin’s mind, since it was a trait he’d never been known to possess much of in the past. But, hadn’t they all changed? Merry had forced his cousin to realize certain truths during their journey, but he could now see things for himself. Sam needed help, and soon.

CHAPTER THREE

A few hours later, after Pippin had convinced Merry to take Frodo for a walk to the Courtyard of the White Tree, he finally located Sam, who had elected to stay behind in the house. The young gardener was on the balcony outside of Frodo’s room, tasked with watering some plants that lined the railing with spring color. But when Pippin entered the room, he saw Sam looking out on the Fields of Pellenor again, watering can at his feet.

"Hello, Sam. We missed you at breakfast this morning."

"I was tired and needed a bit of a lie-in instead. Made up for it at second breakfast, though," he added with a brief smile.

"Good. Both you and Frodo need a few pounds. I noticed you were a bit…preoccupied last night. What were you thinking?" Seeing the startled look that Sam cast his way at this insight, Pippin laughed. "I’m not quite as unaware as I used to be, Sam. Don’t forget that I’m a Guard of the Citadel, and we also serve who stand and wait, and watch."

The laughter left his eyes as he spoke, and he fell silent for a few moments. "I watched, and saw a father destroy the last hope his son had for his father’s love and respect. I watched as that father grieved for what he thought was the end of his line, and fell into despair at his loss. Then, later, I had to watch as Sauron’s lieutenant caused all of us to fall into that same despair, when we thought that the Dark Lord had the two of you in Barad-dur, suffering agonies untold.

"So, yes, I’ve gotten quite good at watching and paying attention to others, finally. What were you thinking last night?"

Sam had to blink the tears from his eyes before he could respond. Finally, he said, "I was just thinking about the journey, especially that horrible stretch up the Winding Stairs to that wretched creature’s cave." He trailed off as he glanced again to the East, to the mountains behind Osgiliath.

Pippin looked at the circles under Sam’s eyes. "Sam, did you sleep at all last night?"

With a short, almost bitter laugh, Sam said, "Back when Mr. Frodo and I were still in the Shire, before we met the both of you, he told me to just close my eyes and imagine I was back at home, with a soft pillow. It didn’t work then, and it didn’t work anywhere else. When you’re tired enough, you’ll sleep, all right, even if it’s on the edge of a thousand-foot drop if you turn over in your dreams. Of course, you don’t dream, leastaways not that you remember, because you are so worn out. Which is the only reason you fall asleep to begin with, when you know you have to stay awake, otherwise you might wake up with a knife in your back or your finger gnawed off, or…"

"Or what, Sam? What was it that happened on the Stairs? What caused you and Frodo to be separated when he got to the spider’s lair?" The flair of anguish that came to Sam’s eyes startled Pippin, but also stiffened his resolve to get to the heart of the matter. "Come, it’s best that you say it, and who better than me to say it to? We also serve who stand and watch, remember?"

"It’s just—I saw what that Thing was doing to him. He was so tired, not just by the climb but by everything. But most of all by the Ring. The burden was so great. It got so much worse after Osgiliath, as if It was breaking him, bit by bit. Gollum, the old villain, saw what It was doing to Mr. Frodo as much as I did, and he used it. Used it to get at him, to drive a wedge between us."

"Between you and Frodo?! I would never have thought that possible!"

Sam smiled humorlessly. "Oh, it was possible. With Mr. Frodo under the load of all the world’s hopes on his shoulders, anything could happen, even the worst thing in the world. I failed him, Mr. Pippin. ‘Don’t you leave him, Samwise Gamgee,’ but I did. He told me to. It took a tumble down some stairs and finding out we’d been tricked by that Gollum before I came to my senses and turned around to follow him. I hurried back up those Stairs as if chased by a Balrog, because I just knew that something was very wrong. Gollum had to have some evil planned that involved my being far away from Mr. Frodo, and I let him get away with it."

Sam continued on with his story, telling Pippin about the horrible smell emanating from Shelob’s cave, the bits of her prey scattered about the floor and attached to the walls and ceiling by the largest webs imaginable. He was able to follow Frodo’s path by the tears made in the webs to allow passage, and then he came to the point where Frodo first encountered the giant spider. He told of finding Galadriel’s gift to Frodo on the ground further down the tunnel, and then finally seeing the way out of the tunnel blocked by torn webs, Sting dangling amidst the clinging tendrils.

"I was moving pretty fast, even through that sticky stuff, and grabbed Sting in one hand and the star glass in the other so I could see better, then moved down the path out to the end of the pass. I was almost to the last corner, when I heard this strange sound." Sam’s voice quivered, and then his jaw tightened and he continued. "A few seconds later, I finally came around the bend, and saw that…filth…wrapping up Mr. Frodo like a birthday present. She dropped him and came after me. After a bit, she went back to one of her hideyholes and didn’t come out again."

Pippin’s eyebrows had risen nearly to his hairline by this point. He and the others knew some of the general facts about the Ringbearer’s travails in the pass to Cirith Ungol, mostly from what Gandalf had managed to glean from the hobbits’ thoughts as they lay in slumber in the Houses of Healing, but the details were unknown before this. Frodo had told them a little about his encounter with Shelob, but reserved most of his praise for what Sam had done, so Pippin knew just how much Sam was leaving out of that last sentence.

"Mr. Frodo," Sam’s voice cracked at this, "Mr. Frodo was lying there, all covered in that spiderweb, but I just knew that he was only knocked out. Asleep, right? He would wake up, and everything would be all right again. That monster was gone, the old villain Gollum had disappeared, and all we had to do was get to the end of the path and we were in Mordor. But when I got that stuff off his face, he just stared, and his eyes were empty. I’d seen his eyes change more and more the closer we got to that place, but this…this was nothingness. There was nothing I could do—I finally realized he was dead, and I was just too late to help him. I had promised Gandalf that I would never leave nor lose him, and I’d managed to do both in one afternoon. Some faithful servant I am."

Tears were streaming down Sam’s cheeks, and he choked out, "I wanted to do nothing more than stay with him, take him out of that dreadful place…I just wanted to go home, lay Mr. Frodo to rest next to his parents, and never go anywhere else ever again. No more horrible monsters, no more treacherous Gollum, no more Orcs. But Sting was glowing blue again, so I knew that there were Orcs around, and so was that spider and Gollum had to be hiding somewhere. And that thing was still hanging on Mr. Frodo’s neck, and as long as it was around, there was nowhere to go home to. So I took It, and left him behind, even though it was the last thing I ever wanted to do."

Leaning with his hands clenched on the railing’s edge, his head bent forward, Sam looked to Pippin as if he were about to be crushed by the weight of his memories. The stalwart gardener, a rock for Frodo to lean on for as long as Pippin could remember, could no longer support even himself. Pippin clasped his shoulder to offer his own strength.

"Sam, your faithfulness is why we’re still here. Frodo told us exactly why that spider retreated after meeting you. Your taking the Ring from him after you thought he was dead—why, that’s one of the main reasons the Darkness is gone! As for letting Gollum drive you away, if that was a mistake on your part, which I’m not too sure it was, you more than made up for it by saving Frodo in that tower and then carrying him up Mt. Doom! We all make mistakes, Sam. Even Gandalf admits that his biggest blunder was not recognizing the Ring for what It was long before Frodo got It."

Seeing Sam shake his head in denial of his words, Pippin pressed on. "Nobody’s perfect. Believe me, I know! With all the gaffes of monumental proportions that I’ve managed in the past year, I’m just about the most imperfect creature around! But I’m learning to forgive myself for most of them, even though I’ll never forget. I’ve just had to move on. Do what I could to atone for my errors, and accept what resulted from them."

Pippin thought over what he just said, and he laughed. "Listen to me blather on! I sound like Uncle Saradoc! I’ll have to be careful—I think that maturity might be breeding pomposity. I shiver to think how I’ll be in twenty years!" Looking closely at Sam, he noticed that his friend’s eyes had cleared. He hoped it was from both his words of advice as well as his levity. Only time would tell if Sam had actually listened to what he said.

"Come on, it’s past time for lunch. If Frodo and Merry aren’t overly tired, I’ll take you all for a walk to the Red Dog Tavern—the food’s not too bad there, and the ale is even better!"

EPILOGUE

Four months later…

"A fine day, isn’t it, Sam?" The flowers in the box had been replaced, but the colors were still as stunning as ever. The water drizzled over the blooms that Sam had planted only a month before. Pippin had been sunning himself when Sam came through the doors, equipped with the watering can that was always near at hand out on the balcony.

"It’s beautiful today. I think that’s the first time I’ve seen the sky look quite so blue here, as blue as it is back home."

"Only a few more days, then off to Rohan, Rivendell, and then the Shire." Pippin heaved a sigh of contentment. As much as he loved his honorary home and his position as Guard of the Citadel, he did long to see the verdant fields and cozy hobbit holes of home.

"I can’t wait to get back. To see my Gaffer, my brothers and sister, and, well, everyone else. To get my hands in some fresh tilled earth and just tend the gardens at Bag End again is all I want right now. These flowers are pretty and all, but boxes and pots are not quite the same thing as a big yard to really get your hands dirty." His head tilted back to soak in the sunbeams, Sam didn’t notice Pippin’s eyes narrow on his face.

He’d been watching Sam for months now, ever since their talk on this very spot. In that time, Sam would still occasionally retreat into his room, and brood every once in a while, but he was slowly learning to forgive himself and move on. However, whenever they were within sight, Sam had never managed to keep his gaze away from the craggy skyscape that dominated the eastern view from Minas Tirith. Until today. Sam had come out to water his plants, talked cheerfully of the view from the balcony, and spoke of the future.

Not once did Sam’s gaze drop to the mountains bordering Mordor.

Yes, it was time to go home, Pippin thought. Time for all of us to move on, finally.

THE END