Disclaimer: The usual…these characters don’t belong to me but to J.R.R. Tolkien and to New Line, Peter, Fran, and Philippa. I make no profit from this story and have returned all characters well fed and rested.

Author’s Notes: I actually did sing both a baby and its father to sleep once. Apparently both of them needed a nap…

*****

New Music

By Songspinner

*****

As Merry watched, Peregrin Took tiptoed out of his bedroom at Crickhollow as carefully as he could manage on still-shaky limbs. His green eyes sparkling, the young hobbit leaned on the doorframe and closed the door behind him.

"Well?!" There was a chorus of voices that included his father, sisters, and cousin. Impatient expressions greeted his decidedly silly grin.

"I’m a Da. We have a son," he said in a tone of joyous wonderment. With a wordless shout of exhilaration, he threw his arms around his father, although he had to bend down a bit to do so.

Several hours later, having been pushed out of his own bedroom by several of the impatient, if understanding women in his life, Pippin wandered outside into the cool dusk. Merry found him where he’d sat down on a garden bench and joined him with a quick hug around his shoulder.

"Congratulations, Pip. I’m enjoying this, you know."

Pippin eyed his cousin somewhat suspiciously. "Enjoying what, exactly?"

"Seeing you as a father. Anticipating the joy of watching you deal with a little lad with as much mischief and intelligence as yourself." Merry grinned unrepentantly at Pippin, who rolled his eyes in return.

"You two have many redeeming qualities you know." Gimli’s gruff voice startled both of them, and the two hobbits rose to embrace their friend.

"When did you arrive? Are you staying long? Can you stay for the naming ceremony?" Pippin’s questions ran out as his breath did the same.

Legolas shook his head, leaning casually against a tree trunk. "Fatherhood has clearly not changed you very much, Peregrin Took." The elf looked fondly down at the hobbit who’d grasped his hand. "To answer your avalanche of questions, my friend, we arrived just now and your mother showed us where you were, we may stay as long as we wish, and we would be honored."

Merry laughed to see Pippin clearly trying to track the elf’s answers, and steered the younger hobbit in the direction of the house. "You, cousin, need some sleep. Our friends will be here for a while, and someone will probably let you back in now, so lie down next to Diamond and your son and get some rest, hmmm?" With a little kiss to his cousin’s brow and a shove toward the garden door, Merry sent him off in the right direction.

Once Pippin had disappeared inside, Merry turned to his friends. Legolas was trailing one graceful hand across the glossy leaves of a shrub near the garden gate, and Gimli was clearly keeping his eye on the elf. The look of concern on the dwarf’s face made Merry frown slightly, and he took a second glance at Legolas.

"I’m sure that Pippin would love to introduce you to his son after there’s been some resting done in there." He spoke quietly, noticing the shadows under the elf’s usually clear and untroubled eyes.

"I’ll see to Arod, then, and bring our packs inside." Legolas said, easing the leaves gently back along the branch and walking back toward the little stable.

Watching Gimli watch Legolas kept Merry silent for only a couple of moments. "All right, Gimli. Will you tell me what is wrong with our friend?"

The dwarf shook his head, sitting down heavily on the low bench. "Ithilien." He said simply, the single word laden with meanings.

"Ith…I don’t understand. King Thranduil let some of their people go there, didn’t he? I thought that Legolas was helping Faramir rebuild."

Gimli nodded slowly. "Aye, he has done that, and I must admit that it is becoming beautiful once more, even to eyes that prefer caverns and mines. Let me just say that both the last several weeks and the journey from Ithilien to the Shire were…quieter than in the past."

"Quieter?" Merry cocked his head to one side and looked a query at Gimli.

"Singing, lad. He hasn’t sung in weeks." Gimli sighed heavily.

"But…" Memories of Legolas’ clear and vibrant songs, which had risen daily at star-rise and sunrise through the journey they’d shared, were strong for both hobbit and dwarf. Merry stared, eyes wide. "I can’t imagine Legolas not singing. What would make him stop? Is he ill?"

"Nay, he is well. Physically, at least. But the rebuilding has taken its toll. Destruction and death had to be cleared from Ithilien’s edges, and the bits of the Enemy’s hold cleansed from the land. I gather," Gimli went on explaining. "That elven skill and magic has done so, but at great cost to himself as the leader of his people there. Touching that sort of corruption to cleanse it."

"Oh." Merry leaned against Gimli’s broad shoulder. "I suppose it was as painful to him as seeing what Saruman had done to the Shire was for Sam when we returned. I thought that he would cry for every flower and tree, every blade of grass that had been trampled and burned. Or worse."

"Yes. I suppose it would be much like that. But elves are ever tied to the earth." Gimli smiled a little, stroking his beard. "I think that where dwarves delve far below it and know the very rocks, elves know the living things. One could almost grow to appreciate that."

"Couldn’t Aragorn help?" Merry asked.

"Aye, if he knew." Gimli answered. "Our stubborn elf has insisted for weeks now that he is well, and that none of the darkness he’s had to touch has affected him in the least. ‘Twas Faramir who suggested we come, once we got word from Pippin."

"And Legolas knows of your plan?"

"Well, no," the dwarf admitted. "As far as he knows, we deliver gifts for Pippin’s son from the King and Queen, from Prince and Princess of Ithilien, and from Beregond’s family."

"You two have ever gone in circles about one another." Merry chuckled. "I shall faint on the day I hear anything from either of you in such moments other than warfare of words and subterfuge."

"Now, now, Master Merry. I believe I heard your cousin Frodo chide you and Pippin often enough on our journey for such things."

"Well," Merry giggled. "That is true enough." He sobered as a thought hit him, and the serious expression transformed into a smile. "Gimli, I have an idea, if you’ll hear it."

****

‘Pippin?" Merry shook his cousin’s shoulder gently, but firmly. "Wake up."

The younger hobbit blinked rather dazedly in his general direction and then opened his eyes wide suddenly. "Oh…" He sat up quickly as he remembered and looked in the direction of the rocking chair, where Diamond sat nursing their son. "Oh." He repeated the exclamation very softly, rising out of bed to kneel in front of the chair. He waited for a nod from his wife, who moved her modestly draped shawl aside a bit, and then he reached out one hand to stroke the baby’s tiny face.

Merry watched all of this with quiet amusement and a certain kind of wistfulness. Thoughts of Estella Bolger ran through his mind, and he tried to picture her in the chair. "Pippin, I do hate to interrupt, but Legolas and Gimli would like to pay their respects in a short while."

Diamond tousled her husband’s sleep-unruly curls with her free hand. "Go and wash up, my love. We’ll be done soon and you can introduce your friends to Farry."

"Aye, then. You’ll be all right?" His anxious face peered up at her.

Giggling, she pushed him away. "We’re fine, Pippin. Our son is just as hungry as his father usually is this time of day. So be sure and get some food on your way out."

With an indulgent smile, Merry closed the door behind Pippin. "Diamond, I have a favor to ask of you, once the newest Took heir has finished his first breakfast…"

****

When Legolas entered the kitchen, ducking slightly to fit through the doorway, he found Pippin writing with one hand and cradling his baby son with the other.

"Ah, there you are, Legolas." Pippin said briskly. "The others are all out in the garden, I need to finish this letter to Aragorn, and someone here wishes for some undivided attention. Would you…?"

Answering the unspoken question, the elf nodded and reached to take the tiny hobbit. The baby really did fit in his hands, Pippin marveled.

Legolas gazed down at the pair of round, sleepy, green eyes. Long lashes fluttered shut and then flew open again. "Trying hard not to sleep, I see," he murmured with a smile. "Rather like your father, you wish not to miss a thing."

"I did try over-much to stay awake, some nights on the Quest, didn’t I? Especially in Lothlorien, I think." Pippin observed, and dripped the sealing wax onto the carefully folded parchment. "With such glorious things to see, I really did try not to miss anything. Somehow, though," he went on quietly. "I did sleep every night. Merry’s stories or your songs helped a great deal."

One small hand flailed and grasped Legolas’ fingertip. "Such strength…" the elf whispered, and he sat cross-legged on the floor beside his friend. Cradling the newest Took in his arm, he looked over at Pippin. "The songs in that Wood were sad ones then."

Pippin nodded solemnly. "Aye, but they were beautiful, and full of memory and hope, you see. And when you sang for me at Cormallen, when I could not rise yet from my bed, they were the same. I remember that you greeted the sun every morning with music."

Golden head bowed over the babe, the elf’s face was hidden from view for a moment. "It has been hard to do of late."

Stamping the family crest of the seal into the soft wax, Pippin nodded and set the letter aside. "Well, perhaps it has."

Eyes dark with emotion finally rose to meet the hobbit’s green gaze. "This little one is so new, and his own song is so pure. I have not heard such for far too long."

"Tell me?" Pippin asked softly, rising only to sit at his friend’s side.

And for a quiet time there in the grey light of dawn, Legolas spoke in a low voice, and Pippin listened.

"…and the trees, Pippin. So much of the forest there was twisted near the edge closest to Mordor. Such darkness and fear in them, and I thought I was used to that in Mirkwood. The earth underneath the ruins sang with memory of destruction, and my own voice was stilled out of sorrow, I suppose. It seemed wrong to sing."

"You frightened Gimli, you know." Pippin said, laying one hand on his friend’s arm.

Legolas laughed, and it was a musical sound that the young hobbit rejoiced to hear. "Well, I must cease to do that, then."

"Will you sing for wee Faramir?" Pippin asked, stroking one tender finger down his son’s arm.

"Faramir? Is that his name, then?" Legolas queried in answer, and nodded his head in approval. "It is a good choice, to name him for a strong and gentle man, and a good friend."

"Aye, well, it seemed right, and someday the Steward of Gondor and the Prince of Ithilien will meet his namesake." Pippin looked up at Legolas with a sweet smile that he knew had always worked on his cousins. "Will you not sing for him? I know that Diamond would welcome getting this little one to sleep for a nap. She’s not had much rest herself so far today."

Drawing in a deep breath, Legolas let it out slowly, clearly realizing that those he loved had neatly manipulated him. "Peregrin Took, you are as unsubtle as ever."

But he spoke with a smile on his lips, and when Merry and Gimli followed the sound of his voice a few moments later, they reached the doorway to see a welcome sight. Their friend was rocking the sleeping infant and singing a soft lullaby. Pippin had rested his head against the elf’s shoulder and seemed to have fallen asleep as well. Full of rosy mist and warmth, pouring through the windows, the dawn light had set the kitchen all aglow and all the shadows had fled.