A/N: Thank you to Pipwise for the beta.

*

Pippin had just finished dressing when there was a soft knock at the door, followed a moment later by Aragorn.

“Hullo!” he called out in surprise. “Am I late?”

“No,” Aragorn said with a smile. “The bell has not yet rung. I wanted to discuss a matter with you.”

“Have you decided to keep me in Minas Tirith after all?” Pippin asked, grinning.

Aragorn sat on the bed and chuckled a little, motioning for the hobbit to sit beside him. “I am sorely tempted, as you know, but that is not the reason for my visit.” He was holding a wrapped bundle, and now gestured to it.

“Do you know what this is?” Aragorn asked gently when Pippin did not show even a hint of curiosity.

“I don’t – that is,” Pippin faltered, “I think I do.”

“It is the Orthanc-stone,” Aragorn said, observing how Pippin flinched at the mention of the word. “I would like for you to take another look into it.”

Pippin glanced at him in horror. “Why?”

“I do not want your only memory of a seeing stone to be a terrifying one,” Aragorn replied simply.

“No,” Pippin said, his curls bouncing as he shook his head furiously. “I – I don’t want to. I promised Gandalf that if all seven stones were set before me I would keep my hands in my pockets, and I still mean it.”

“Your hands are not hidden now,” Aragorn observed.

“That is only because this uniform has no pockets,” Pippin said with a hesitant grin. “Most impractical, and something you should fix, now that you are the King.”

Aragorn smiled. “I shall discuss it at the next council. But in the meantime, will you not consider what I have suggested?”

Biting his lip, Pippin shook his head again. “I would do anything for you, Strider, anything at all, but please don’t ask this of me.”

“I will not force you, Pippin,” Aragorn replied. “But I sense that although your physical injuries have almost completely healed, you still suffer from all that you have seen. If you look into the palantír once more, I believe you may find some peace from your memories of what happened that night.”

For a moment, curiosity flickered in Pippin’s eyes, but it was snuffed out by uncertainty and fear.

When he saw that Pippin remained unconvinced, Aragorn continued, “I understand how frightening it was for you, Pippin. I have also looked into the palantír. Even the most hardened warrior would have found what you experienced intolerable, and yet you bore it better than anyone could have expected. I think that says a great deal about your own strength.”

“I’m not strong, really,” Pippin said softly. “Gandalf had to call me back.”

“He did,” Aragorn replied. “Pippin, you will not face Sauron if you look into the palantír now.” He clasped the hobbit’s shoulder when he shuddered at the memory.

“But what will I see?” Pippin asked after a few moments. “Gandalf said some of the stones are missing. What if something evil is there?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “What if it hurts me again?”

“I will be here to help you, Pippin,” Aragorn assured him. “You need not look alone – we could look together.”

“Together?” Pippin echoed, exhaling sharply. He squeezed his eyes shut, considering it, and came to a decision. “Let us look, then.”

“Are you certain?” Aragorn asked, concerned at how tense Pippin looked. “You are not leaving for many days yet – we might do this at another time.”

“No,” Pippin replied, his voice strong. “I want to look now.”

With a final assessment of the hobbit beside him, Aragorn nodded and unwrapped the palantír, placing it on the bed between them.

Pippin paled at the sight of it, but hesitantly touched the cool stone with one finger. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself before he glanced up at Aragorn and declared, “I’m ready.”

Together they placed their hands on the palantír. For a moment it remained an inky black, but then Pippin saw trees and a stretch of green grass, and heard the sounds of birds chirping and children laughing.

The Shire, he realized with a smile. The scene changed and he saw the Great Smials, and his own parents standing outside the round blue door.

I suppose they are wondering what has happened to me, Pippin thought sadly. But there he was, and Merry too, riding up on twofine ponies, and he watched the happy reunion grow as his sisters and nieces and nephews crowded around.

Then the scene changed again, though Merry and Pippin were still there. Older now, they walked slowly, side by side through a cavernous passage. Pippin noted in a mixture of amusement and horror that they were grey-haired and wrinkled, and more than a bit rounder than they were now.

At the end of the corridor were three figures, and Pippin saw with relief that Aragorn and Gimli had grown older as well, though Legolas was as ageless as ever.

The picture was fading now, but just before the stone turned black Pippin saw Aragorn stoop to embrace them.

When he looked away Pippin felt disoriented. He pulled his hands away from the palantír and wiped them nervously on his knees.

“Pippin?” Aragorn said gently. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Pippin replied haltingly. “That was…not frightening at all.” His face brightened. “It was nice to see my family and friends again, instead of terrible things. Did you see us all together at the end?”

“I saw everything you did,” Aragorn said. He raised his eyebrows. “You and your cousin gained a bit of weight.”

Pippin laughed. “I noticed. It looked like we were visiting you here in Minas Tirith – I wonder why Frodo and Sam weren’t with us. Perhaps they went somewhere with Gandalf…”

Aragorn made no reply as he busied himself with wrapping the stone in its thick cloth.

Sighing, Pippin rubbed at his eyes tiredly. “I’m glad I listened to you, Strider. It’s better not to spend the rest of my life thinking that seeing stones were only used for evil.”

“They were not crafted for evil,” Aragorn said. “The kings of old used the stones for communication, until war, and time, delivered some to the enemy. But they will not be used for malice again.”

“What are you going to do with it?” Pippin asked softly.

“It will remain in my keeping,” Aragorn replied, “along with the one Denethor used.” He smiled then and said, “I might use the Orthanc-stone to look after my friends in the Shire.”

Pippin grinned just as the bell rang, and together they stood and left the room.

“Thank you for helping me, Strider,” Pippin said as they walked along. “I wish I didn’t have to leave you and the others behind when we return to the Shire. I hope that stone isn’t too accurate – I want to see you again before I’m so old and grey.”

“I hope you will visit many times, Pippin,” Aragorn replied. “My friends will always be welcome here. And do not forget, Sir Peregrin, that I am not releasing you from your oath. I might call you back to Minas Tirith one day, so have a care and try to fit into your uniform and I just might reward you with a pocket or two.”

Pippin laughed. “I thought that my friendship and loyalty would be rewarded with more than just pockets. I had hoped for a few meals, too.”

Aragorn laughed too, and as they went together in search of food and friends, the joyful sounds echoed around them in the stone corridor.