Title: Trapped in Darkness
Author: Melilot Hill
Beta: Gayalondiel
Summary: Pippin is having nightmares about Old Man Willow whilst in Moria. Aragorn helps him face his fears.
Rate: G
Disclamer: The characters and settings belong to J.R.R. Tolkien
Note 1: The parts in Italics are taken from "The Fellowship of the Ring", from the chapters "The Old Forest" and "A Journey in the Dark".
Note 2: This story is based on a plot bunny by Shirebound.

Shirebound's plot bunny:
Somewhere in Moria, due to the smothering dark, Pippin (or Merry) begins to have nightmares about being smothered by Old Man Willow. Someone in the Fellowship helps him face his fears with some wise words and comfort.

Many hugs for Gaya, my wonderful beta. Her help made this story a lot better!

Trapped in Darkness

“Get into a corner and have a sleep, my lad,” Gandalf said in a kindly tone. “You want to sleep, I expect. I cannot get a wink, so I may as well do the watching.”

Pippin walked further into the guardroom, staying as close to the wall as was possible without stepping on one of his sleeping companions. He wanted to stay as far away from that well as he could.

He spread out his bedroll and lay down. He was exhausted, but he didn’t fall asleep right away. He kept hearing those beats in his head they heard after he so foolishly dropped that stone down the well. Tap-tom, tom-tap, tom-tap, tap-tom. Pippin pressed his hands on his ears in a vain attempt to lock out the hammering noises.

When sleep finally claimed him, he found himself back inside Old Man Willow. He heard the creaking of the ancient tree, sounding like a voice, but he was unable to make out the words. Pippin tried with all his might to escape, to get away from the threatening voice and the smothering dark, but to no avail. The tree had a tight grip on his legs.

Suddenly a tremor ran through the whole willow, and it seemed to wake up even more than before. At first, Pippin had no idea what was happening. He heard the tree talking again, but still couldn’t understand any of it. Suddenly, the words became all to clear:

“I am going to kill you both!” He heard the tree whisper maliciously. “If that fire isn’t put out immediately, I am going to squeeze you in two!”

“Fire?” Pippin muttered, frantically. “Is there a fire?.”

The pressure on his legs increased. He screamed in fear and pain.

“Put it out! Put it out!” Pippin heard Merry’s muffled, pleading cries. “He’ll squeeze me in two, if you don’t. He says so! Put it out! Put it out!”  

Suddenly everything went quiet. Pippin couldn’t even hear his cousin’s frantic yells anymore. All that remained was an all consuming darkness. There was nothing but the pain in his legs where the tree had a strong hold on him. He felt completely empty and alone.

*~*~*~*

Pippin woke up with a start. His legs were still trapped. For a moment he panicked, thinking that he was still dreaming, but when his thoughts became a little more coherent, he found his blanket twisted around his legs. Feeling very alone and miserable, Pippin began to sob softly.

He looked around him and saw nothing in the smothering dark but the faint glow of Gandalf’s pipe, a familiar beacon in sea of darkness. The wizard didn’t seem to hear his sobbing. He probably was too deep in thought. Pippin longed for company, hating to feel so alone in this darkness, but he didn’t dare go over to Gandalf. Even though the wizard had spoken friendly to him before he went to sleep, Pippin suspected that Gandalf was still a bit upset by his previous actions. Indeed he himself still was

He didn’t want to wake up any of the others. They all needed their sleep after the ordeals of the past couple of days. Pippin scrubbed his sleeve angrily across his face to dry his tears, and lay back down again, determined to sleep. He was exhausted, but at the same time he was terrified that the nightmare would return.

Finally, after a lot of tossing and turning, Pippin did fall asleep again. Twice that night he found himself back inside Old Man Willow. When Gandalf woke him up, some six hours after he went to bed, he felt like he hadn’t slept at all. Pippin ached all over. His legs hurt him the most, as if he actually had spent the night inside the willow tree.

The Fellowship set out again for another long march through the mines. The passage they had chosen wound steadily upwards. There were now no openings to other galleries or tunnels on either side, and the floor was level and sound, without pits or cracks. In spite of the easy path, Pippin couldn’t keep up with the pace Gandalf and Gimli set.  He was lost in thoughts so much that he didn’t even notice he fell back in line. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It is a good thing I noticed you, Pippin,” Aragorn said softly. “You would have lost us if you managed to get behind me.” 

“Uhm, yes, thank you,” Pippin mumbled absentmindedly.

“Is there something wrong?” the Ranger asked, worried.

“No, not really. Maybe. Well… yes, actually, there is.” Pippin replied.

“I suppose your last answer is the most honest one?” Aragorn asked with a frown.

“It just, I am really tired, Strider, and I didn’t sleep well.” Pippin sighed miserably. “I kept having this nightmare. And I hate this darkness.”

For as long as Pippin could remember he had actually liked the dark. Lying in his own bed, back home, the darkness always had something familiar, cozy even. Never before had the darkness felt so hostile and, well, dark, as in the Mines of Moria. Or inside Old Man Willow.

Pippin shuddered. Again he wished that he had followed Elrond’s advice and had gone back to the Shire. He felt neither strong nor brave at the moment.

“Pippin?, Pippin!” Aragorn said, putting a hand on Pippin’s shoulder once again. “Where do you wander? Do you wish to tell me about your nightmare? It may help you a bit.”

“I was dreaming I was back inside the willow tree Merry and I got trapped in, when we were inside the Old Forrest,” Pippin began, and proceeded in halting words to describe his nightmare as best he could. When he had finished, a short silence fell between them.

You know, Pippin,” Aragorn said gently, “dreams tend to tell us something about our feelings, about our hopes and fears. But the precise meaning of our dreams is not always clear. Sometimes we have to explore them to discover their meaning.”

“Yes, I know,” Pippin said, smiling a little. “We have this saying in the Shire: When during the day you do everything right, no nightmare will come in the middle of night.“

“Hobbits are clever folk,” Aragorn said. “But to come back to your dream, have you have nightmares about that tree before, Pippin?”

“No, they started last night,” Pippin began, then corrected himself. “No, wait, I did have another nightmare. It was different from this one, though. The first night we spent at Tom Bombadil’s house, I dreamt that willow trees surrounded the house. But that dream didn’t last long and didn’t come back.” 

“You are probably right,” Aragorn mused. “I don’t think those two dreams are related.”

“I think I know what my nightmares are about. Strider, I’m so scared of this darkness!” Pippin said with trembling voice. ”I don’t think I have the courage to go on!”

“Listen to me, Pippin,” Aragorn said, pulling the lad a bit closer. “Having courage is not the same as being fearless. No. Courage is doing the things you need to do even though you fear them. And I think you have plenty of courage. Just look at what you went through before you even reached Rivendell, and you still chose to come on this quest with Frodo.”

“That wasn’t courageous,” Pippin said in a small voice. “It was foolish. I didn’t know what I was talking about, I didn’t know what was to come.”

“You have been as brave as any of us,” Aragorn answered. “Do not undervalue yourself. And you have been a very good friend to Frodo at a time when he really needs one.”

Pippin began to stumble. He was so tired, he could hardly put one foot in front of the other.

“I don’t think I am of any help to Frodo right now. I am exhausted and scared and this darkness makes me feel very lonely.” Pippin said. “I hardly even spoke with Frodo today.”

“I can’t convince you very easily, can I?” Aragorn said, smiling. “My dear Pippin, everybody is weary. Weary of the long march and weary of the dark. It’s not just you, believe me. We will all feel much better when we can leave these mines behind us. Everything will look brighter in the light of sun or moon.”

“I suppose you’re right, Strider,” Pippin said, still sounding a bit put out. “I’m just not able to see it right now.”

Aragorn and Pippin saw Gandalf’s staff light up. When they reached the others, they saw what their companions were looking at. Before them and on either side stretched a huge empty hall; its black walls, polished and smooth as glass, flashed and glittered.

The Fellowship went into a corner of the great hall to escape the draft, and spent the night. When Gandalf woke them up in the morning, they saw the morning light shining into the great hall. It was a sight that lifted their hearts a great deal. 

Aragorn took Pippin aside for a moment. “Did you have the nightmare again this night?” he whispered.

“No, Strider, I didn’t dream at all!” Pippin answered enthusiastically. “I slept rather well given the circumstances.”

“That is good to hear, Pippin!” Aragorn replied, relieved. “That is very good to hear.”

The End