Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, and no money is being made from it.

A/N: Based on two Shirebound plot bunnies:

Frodo has heard tales of the palantiri -- Sauron’s, Saruman’s, and Denethor’s -- but has never seen one. In a private meeting with Aragorn, Frodo finally looks upon one of the legendary "seven stones".

Before the hobbits leave Minas Tirith, Aragorn helps Pippin to have one more look into the palantir -- so the young hobbit can have one experience with a seeing stone that isn’t a frightening one.

***

A Passing Dream

Frodo half-woke when he felt his cousins disentangle themselves from limbs and quilts and shift their weight off the bed, hearing muttered curses as they fumbled for their uniforms, pale faces and bleary eyes reminding him of the difficult night they had just been through. Watching through half-closed eyes, he saw Merry fuss over Pippin’s sleep-rumpled curls, Pippin twisting out of his grasp and clicking his tongue impatiently, full of restless energy as always, even after so little sleep.

As they left for duty, Frodo mumbled an inarticulate "goodbye, lads" into his pillow, lifting up his hand weakly and letting it fall back to his side, and then shifted closer to the familiar and comforting warmth of Sam still asleep beside him. His eyes drifted shut again and he sighed and settled more deeply into Pippin’s bed, sparing a last sympathetic thought for his cousins before letting himself slide back into dimly remembered dreams.

***

Some while later, Frodo sat beside the sapling in the courtyard of the fountain, thinking about the night before, and the terrifying dream Pippin had had of the palantir. Afterwards, Pippin had told them haltingly about what he saw in the stone, still trembling in Merry’s arms as though reliving the aftermath of it all over again. Winged wraiths… a dead tree… a city of stone in flames. Frodo knew what had happened, had heard it from both cousins and Gandalf too, but his own absence that dreadful night still upset him, and he and Sam had curled up beside his cousins on Pippin’s bed, hoping to offer comfort by simply being there, when before they had been so far away.

Lost in thought, Frodo was only half-aware of people coming and going, stopping for a moment to gaze at the tree and acknowledging him with respectful bows or shy smiles. Pippin had been eager to explain to him how much it meant to the people of Gondor that the tree now blossomed, a sign of peace and renewal where despair had once lain so heavily. Thinking of the number of times he’d found his cousin sitting here, Frodo knew how much it also meant to Gondor’s young knight. It was the only place Frodo had seen him so still and quiet, except for at the king’s side, and he smiled fondly at the thought.

Someone sat down on the bench next to him at that moment and Frodo turned around, surprised to find that he himself was now at the king’s side.

"Aragorn," he exclaimed gladly.

"Hullo, Frodo," Aragorn smiled. "I hope I’m not disturbing you."

Frodo shook his head, "Not at all. I was just thinking about you, actually. Well… Pippin, really. How is he?"

"Pippin is why I came to find you," Aragorn replied with a wry smile, resting his elbows on his knees and looking down for a moment. "He fell asleep on his feet and then protested so fiercely about being sent back to your rooms to rest for the day that I thought it best to take him to my chambers and give him a sleeping draught. I understand he has been suffering some nightmares lately."

"Yes. Well, we all have," Frodo admitted. "Not that you’ll get the others to talk about it. It doesn’t happen often," he added hastily, seeing the king’s look of disapproval. "But Pippin’s have been the worst lately." He looked down, remembering again how Pippin had wept in his sleep and called out for Merry, crying out how sorry he was. When the lad was mostly awake and safely wrapped up in warm embraces, Merry had told him quietly that it was all over, that he had long been forgiven. But Merry wept too, tears that Pippin couldn’t see, but they told Frodo that Merry’s memories of that night were still fresh in his mind, and still hurt.

"Merry takes it very badly," Frodo added, "and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to help." He sighed. "Everything they dream about happened when I was so far away from them. Sometimes when they wake up I feel as though I hardly know them." Frodo surprised himself with this admission. He hadn’t realised he felt that way until he said it.

"That is quite understandable," Aragorn said gently. "Merry has said similar things to me before of his guilt at letting both you and Pippin go, and I know it grieves them both that they couldn’t follow you and Sam into Mordor. You have all overcome so much, Frodo. Knowing that you are all together now is perhaps Pippin’s and Merry’s best comfort when they were separated from you two, and from each other, for so long."

"Perhaps," Frodo nodded, his heart aching for them both. "Pippin’s dreams are so dreadful though, Aragorn. Is there nothing we can do to ease his memories of the palantir?"

Aragorn’s brows knitted together in a worried frown as he looked away, gazing pensively at the tree’s slender branches waving in the summer breeze. "I had considered asking him if he would look in the Orthanc-stone again. I don’t know if it would prevent his nightmares, but I did wish him to have a gentler experience with a seeing stone before you leave for home."

"Why?" Frodo asked quickly, surprised. "Would it be safe now?"

Aragorn nodded. "It would be safe, but since only the heirs of Isildur can direct what they see in the stone, the visions would appear to him by chance. He might see things that he would rather not see, things that will upset him, and that is why I’ve been reluctant to tell him of it before. But he could not possibly be hurt again, now that Sauron is gone. And I would be there with him, of course."

"So it is no longer evil in itself," Frodo murmured. Sauron may be gone, but Frodo knew well that evil memories still had the power to hurt, like wounds that had not truly healed yet. He wasn’t sure whether such a thing could help his cousin or make things worse, but he was grateful to Aragorn for being so clear with him.

"It never was," Aragorn replied. "Sauron used it to deceive and impose his will on others. Since Barad-dur fell and the Stone of Minas Tirith is now unusable, the Orthanc-stone alone remains of the seven. It cannot be used for communication anymore; only for seeing things from afar, or things that happened in the past."

"Well, Pippin will be wary of looking in it again. It cost him so much the first time," Frodo replied, taking a deep breath. "But curiosity does have a way of overcoming fear when it comes to Tooks." He grinned suddenly at Aragorn, who smiled back, nodding firmly in agreement.

"I must say," Frodo ventured after a long pause, "I’ve heard so much about it, I’m quite curious to see it myself." Pippin shouldn’t have to confront anything that frightened him ever again, at least not on his own, and if he agreed to look, Frodo wanted to be there too.

But Aragorn surprised him with his next words. "You may look in it too, if you wish," he replied quietly.

Frodo’s eyes widened and he looked up into Aragorn’s compassionate gaze, unsure what to say. "I-I don’t know about that. I suppose I’ll see what happens," he finished lamely, but he felt a peculiar mixture of excitement and dread at the thought.

"Very well," Aragorn smiled knowingly. He sighed, and then made to stand. "I should see to Pippin; he will be in need of something to do when he wakes, and I plan to release him from duty for the day."

"Oh dear. Do you think that’s wise?"

***

Frodo smiled as he heard the sound of light voices drifting from the gardens and he turned a corner to find a peaceful sight – his cousins lying about on the grass, Pippin’s head pillowed on Merry’s chest as he casually picked the petals off a daisy, listening carefully to something Merry was telling him, a wide grin on his face.

"—and Aelred thought it was all ridiculous, of course; but then, he--" Merry was saying, but he stopped as they caught sight of Frodo coming towards them, both heads raising up to greet him.

"Hullo, Frodo! Come to join us?" Pippin piped up. "Aragorn and Eomer have put us on garden duty this afternoon, and we’re to guard it with our lives. But our most honoured Ringbearers are free to enter here, of course."

Frodo laughed and fondly brushed blades of grass from Pippin’s dishevelled curls as he sat down. "Now, I know very well that Aragorn gave you the afternoon off. I didn’t know Eomer let you go as well, Merry, but I’m glad. I hope you didn’t have to fall over before you realised you needed a break."

Pippin waved dismissively. "I don’t know what Aragorn was so worried about. I thought I did a grand job this morning."

Merry snorted and ruffled Pippin’s curls again. "It’s a very good thing our king is so vigilant over you. A bundle of energy one minute and out like a light the next, apparently. He knew you’d be underfoot again as soon as you woke up and that’s why he asked Eomer to let me go as well," he added, winking at Frodo before he glanced more seriously down at Pippin again. "That tea he’s made for you should do the trick. I expect we’ll all be wanting some tonight."

A look passed between his cousins, so brief they were probably unaware of it, but it made Frodo smile every time he saw that natural, unconscious expression of how much closer they were now; more sensitive to each other’s feelings, even though they were as light-hearted as they had ever been.

"I’ve been talking to him too," Frodo said after a moment, not knowing how to say it and reluctant to break the carefree mood. "He suggested another remedy for your nightmares, Pip."

Pippin nodded, his eyes downcast. "He told us about it too, Frodo. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t much like the thought of it, but then I was curious enough once, and I never did get a proper look." He glanced up with a troubled frown. "I thought it would upset you both if I looked in it again, Frodo. What do you think?"

Frodo took his hand and laced Pippin’s fingers through his own. "It’s really up to you, dearest." I wasn’t there, he almost said, but stopped himself. "But whatever you decide, we’d never be upset with you, Pip."

Merry nodded, his eyes dark, and planted a kiss on Pippin’s curls, offering his own reassurance. "It might not help, Pip," he said quietly, "and I never wanted to look at another stone again, let alone let you near one, but if Strider’s sure nothing else could hurt you…"

Pippin nodded, not making a decision yet, and paused, apparently wanting to speak but not sure what to say.

"We’ll come with you, if you like," Frodo offered, and Pippin looked up, his eyes lit with relief.

"Really? I wasn’t sure if you would," he said gratefully. "I didn’t want you to be upset," he said again, "but I didn’t want to do it on my own, even if Strider’s there." He looked up hesitantly at Merry and then glanced at Frodo.

Merry let out his breath in a rush, but nodded and said, "Of course we’ll come, dearest."

Frodo squeezed Pippin’s hand. "Neither of us want you to look in that thing again without us, Pip." He shared a wry glance with Merry and then Pippin smiled and tugged Frodo down to sprawl in the grass with them.

Soon, Sam came to join them, and for the rest of the afternoon the gardens echoed with the hobbits’ chatter and laughter.

When Pippin had woken up that afternoon to find the king sitting beside him, and listened to Aragorn’s idea, Pippin’s initial shock had given way quite quickly to curiosity and a strong desire to put it all behind them.

He wasn’t even sure exactly what he had dreamt about when he woke up in tears to find Merry holding him, a dull sense of dread settled around his heart and his pulse racing with fear – if it was the memory of what he had seen in the palantir, or the awful, sudden parting with Merry. At any rate, if looking in the stone again could somehow replace the memories of that night with different, better ones, then Pippin wanted to do it.

More than anything about the dim recollections he had of their night terrors was a feeling of great loneliness, as though they were all still scattered about in far-flung lands, lost and frightened. Like Pippin, Merry often dreamt that he was alone and searching for the others, and it broke Pippin’s heart to hear Merry calling out for him when Pippin was right there next to him, holding his hand, certain that it was all his fault.

Now, though, the four of them were gathered in a small room in the king’s chambers, and Pippin thought he might have changed his mind, sitting miserably as he was on a chair between his cousins, watching intently as Aragorn lifted the palantir from the swathes of black cloth in which it was wrapped. The sight of it alone made him feel twitchy and guilty and frightened. Surely it wouldn’t help anyone if he looked in the wretched stone while he was in this state.

"I told Gandalf I’d never look at it again," he said nervously, attempting a smile as he glanced from Frodo to Merry and back again. His hands were shaking, so he sat on them firmly. "I should have listened to him, and you, Merry, the first time. I don’t think I will look. I don’t even want to think about it."

He glanced up at Aragorn standing beside them, and felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. "I think you must believe I’m braver than I really am, Aragorn."

Aragorn frowned and knelt down in front of him, studying him intently for a moment. "You’re uncommonly brave, Peregrin Took," he said softly, "and I’m proud of you. I will remain just as proud of you if you choose not to look in the palantir, and so will Frodo and Merry. This is entirely your choice."

But I’ll be ashamed if I don’t look in it, he thought. If I could look when I wasn’t supposed to, I can look now. He held out his hands tentatively to take the ball from Aragorn.

"Just let your thoughts go where they wish," Aragorn told him softly, smiling at him.

Pippin nodded, suddenly unable to look at his cousins, and gazed into it carefully, watching the pale light flickering in the centre of the stone.

Suddenly he glimpsed Merry move out of the corner of his eye, and looked up sharply when his cousin let out a low cry. "I don’t think I can bear to look," he murmured shakily. "I suppose I was hoping you wouldn’t do this, Pip."

"Merry!" Pippin exclaimed, nearly letting the ball fall to the floor as he turned to take his cousin’s hand desperately. "Please don’t turn away from me." He couldn’t bear that. Better to leave the memories as they were than to let Merry down all over again, and disappoint him so much. "You said you wouldn’t be upset," he whispered, meeting Merry’s eyes anxiously.

Merry held Pippin’s hand tightly, tears in his eyes. "Sorry, Pip. I just can’t believe I’m letting you do this again."

"It will be all right, Mer," Pippin said, certainty rising up in his heart as he said it. "I’m going to look, and you’re going to stay here with me, and so are Frodo and Strider."

With one quick squeeze of Merry’s hands, Pippin looked into the stone again while he still had the courage. The pale light expanded and Pippin felt as though he was being drawn inside the glass again, just like before. He swallowed and tried to do as Strider told him, to let his thoughts wander wherever they would, but he could not let the images he had last seen in the palantir out of his mind.

The battlements of Minas Tirith, the white tower of Ecthelion so familiar to him now… and creatures in the air, wheeling in the starlit sky – three of them, no six…

At first he thought his own imagination was somehow being reflected in the glass, and then he realised with a sickening lurch of his stomach that he really was seeing the same vision playing out in the stone before him. He swallowed, his heart beating even more quickly as he watched the creatures flying towards him, dark wings blotting out the stars, and he couldn’t look away.

Then he looked closer and saw with joy that it wasn’t a winged wraith at all, but an Eagle! The Eagles were flying over Minas Tirith, and Pippin watched them in delight as he swooped down toward the city with them. Suddenly it was day, and there was a small figure watching the great birds with his face lifted and sunlight shining down on him. It must be his dear Merry, he thought, but he couldn’t see his face clearly… he stared intently, trying to see better, but the vision had already shifted again.

Now the white tree appeared, dead and withered, just as it had been before in the stone, Pippin saw with a jolt. He opened his mouth, confused, and then gasped as he saw a figure kneeling beside it. Boromir… his friend, younger than Pippin remembered him, but just as stern and strong. He looked as though he was making a promise, but then he bowed his head, defeated, and Pippin wanted to reach out into the glass and touch him, tell him all the things he had long been wishing he could say.

But he vanished, and there in his place was a new tree, wreathed in flowers, and two more figures beside it, fair and young and full of joy. Faramir, with Eowyn beside him, and Pippin smiled, tears starting in his eyes, watching as others gathered around them. He saw himself there, with Merry beside him; watched Faramir stoop to embrace him and Eowyn hug Merry fiercely, making him blush.

He was still smiling as the vision faded and the ball sank into darkness again, and then Pippin came back to himself, holding the ball against his body with one hand as he scrubbed at his damp cheeks with the other.

Gentle hands took the palantir away from him, and then there were smaller hands on each arm. "Pip?" Frodo whispered.

"What did you see?" Merry asked, a tremor in his voice.

All of them were staring at him in intent concern, and Pippin took a very deep breath and took Merry’s hand and smiled at Frodo, not knowing what to say or how to describe what he’d seen. "I saw good things," he said simply, after a moment. "Reasons to be glad things worked out the way they did."

"Really?" Merry asked, as though afraid to believe it.

"Really," Pippin laughed, and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Thank you, Strider," he said, jumping down and hugging the king, who laughed and hugged him back warmly, and lastly he embraced Frodo, who hugged him tightly, relief and pride in his eyes. Pippin paused, looking at him deeply for a moment without knowing why, and kissed him on the nose. "Thank you, Frodo," he whispered, and hugged him again.

"I didn’t do anything," Frodo smiled, bemused.

"Of course you did. You are daft sometimes, Frodo," Pippin grinned, shaking his head. "Now, shall we go?" He felt like he’d been put through no less than an encounter with Sauron, a trial and a scolding from aunt Esme all at the same time. "My nerves are all jangly. I need some ale and a nice, quiet smoke. Strider? Will you join us?"

He and Merry were halfway out the door before they realised that Frodo was hesitating, looking up at Aragorn in anticipation. "I – I’ll see you lads down there," Frodo said. "I just wanted to ask Aragorn something."

Pippin frowned, opening his mouth to ask what in the Shire could be more important than getting a table at the tavern, and then thought better of it. Frodo looked relieved, and Pippin raised an eyebrow, impressed by his own restraint. "See you there, Frodo," he replied impishly, and closed the door behind him.

Before the door had even shut, he realised exactly what Frodo wanted to do and grabbed Merry’s arm, ready to swing the door open again indignantly, and demand to know why Frodo would want to look in the stone without them.

"Pip," Merry said quietly, stopping him with a look. "Let him be, dearest. I think he just wants to share it with Strider."

"Why?" Pippin whispered, letting Merry pull him away from the door. "Doesn’t he want us to see?"

"I think we would know, if he did," Merry replied with a sad smile. "He’ll tell us later if he wants to."

"But what if he sees something terrible," Pippin asked, still hesitating. "He was there for me, Merry—"

Merry pulled Pippin close. "He wanted to protect you, Pip, and so did I. But I don’t think he needs us at the moment… I suppose there must be things we don’t know about him now, and however much we love him, we can’t change that."

Pippin looked up at Merry; the matter-of-fact Brandybuck tone of voice was not enough to disguise the pain in his cousin’s eyes. He hugged him tightly, and decided not to protest about it anymore, for Merry’s sake. Since they’d been reunited, Pippin had thought that sharing everything with the other three would bring them as close as they had been before, but he supposed now that they were all keeping things from each other, whether unconsciously or on purpose. There were things he didn’t even know about himself, after all, and if it were not for the dreams, he would never have voiced how much that night at Dol Baran had hurt him.

"All right, Merry," he replied, kissing his brow. "Let’s go."

***

Frodo looked up at Aragorn once the lads had left, and the king passed him the palantir. "I’m glad they’re all right," he murmured. "But somehow I wanted to do this without them. Just in case it is frightening, after all."

"I will take it from you if that happens," Aragorn replied quietly, "but I don’t think you need worry." He smiled at Frodo, clear sight shining in his eyes, and Frodo relaxed, not realising he’d been frowning.

"Right," he whispered, and looked into the stone tentatively. He hadn’t noticed the white flame before, when Pippin looked into the ball, and now he found himself transfixed by it, not realising it was expanding until the swirling colours were already filling his vision. And then he saw…

Water… endless water, stretching out around him until it touched the sky, rising and falling in calm, ceaseless waves.

The sea, Frodo realised, utterly entranced, watching as a rising sun gradually lit the dark waters, gold glinting across the rippled surface, changing colour a thousand times.

It was an impossibly beautiful sight and Frodo’s heart yearned for it, feeling it slip away from him even as he tried to remember it, to capture every detail. The palantir went dark again and Frodo looked up, bewildered. "I saw the sea, Aragorn. But that was all. Why didn’t it let me see more?"

"I don’t know, Frodo." Aragorn shook his head. "As I said, it is not always possible to understand what you see."

Frodo looked down, remembering the way the sea rose and fell, and closed his eyes, the sound of the waves still an echo in his memory; like a glimpse of some truth he did not yet understand. "I think I will see it again, someday," he sighed, his heart aching even as he smiled.

Aragorn smiled, and reached out to take the palantir and wrap it up once more. "Curiosity is never fully satisfied, is it? There are always more questions to be asked." He stopped then, and took Frodo’s hands in his. "You and your cousins have shown remarkable foresight at times," he said quietly. "I believe that you will find the sea again, if that is to be your path."

They shared a long look, and Frodo wasn’t sure what he saw in Aragorn’s gaze, but he felt tears start in his eyes at the sorrow he saw there. "Strider," he said, using the old name his cousins still preferred to use, knowing it would make the king smile. "I think it’s time we stopped thinking about what has happened and what might happen. I’m a hobbit after all, and we like to enjoy the present. Merry and Pippin will have found Sam and Faramir and Eomer, and they’ll surely have a table in the tavern by now. I really think we should join them."

Aragorn bowed his head in agreement, and looked up, his eyes lit up with a warm smile. "Very well, Frodo. But I should warn you; if Pippin falls asleep on his feet tomorrow, I shall not be nearly so lenient with him."

Frodo laughed. "You’d better tell him that. Tomorrow, he’s on his own."

***

The next morning, Frodo half-woke when he heard his cousins get up and fumble clumsily for their uniforms, pale faces and bleary eyes reminding him of the long night they had just been through. Watching through half-closed eyes, he saw Merry fuss over Pippin’s sleep-rumpled curls, Pippin twisting out of his grasp and muttering irritably, holding his head and rubbing his eyes.

As they left for duty, Frodo mumbled a vague "goodbye, lads" into his pillow, lifting up his hand weakly and letting it fall back to his side. His eyes drifted shut again and he heard Sam snore and sighed, settling more deeply into his bed, sparing a last sympathetic thought for his cousins before letting himself slide back into peaceful dreams.