TO LEAD HIS PEOPLE

Aragorn paused on the steps of Meduseld and gazed down at the small figure in black-and-silver with bemusement. Pippin was not on duty today; Merry was giving Frodo and Sam a tour of Edoras, and the King had fully expected Pippin to join them. Yet all morning, every time Aragorn turned around, the young Took had been underfoot, dogging his steps.

“Pippin?”

Pippin looked up eagerly. “Yes, my Lord?”

Aragorn sighed. “Pippin, you are not on duty, remember?” He had told the hobbits not to be formal with him except on formal occasions.

“I’m sorry, Strider.” He looked at Aragorn with obvious expectation, but for once, Aragorn had no idea of what was expected.

“Pippin, why are you following me?”

The hobbit’s face fell. “Do you want me to leave?” he asked in a small, hurt voice. He turned as if to take the steps down, but stopped as the Man’s hand fell upon his shoulder.

“I do not want you to leave,” Aragorn sighed, “I want you to tell me what is on your mind.”

“Oh.”

Aragorn turned and sat down on a step. “Sit.” He patted another step a bit higher than the one on which he sat. When Pippin finally sat down, he was almost eye-to-eye with his tall friend.

The hobbit ventured a smile that was merely a ghost of his usual cocky grin.

“What is wrong, Peregrin Took?” Aragorn spoke gently.

“We’re going home--I’m ever so glad we’re going home--but you’re not. I mean, you’re going home but not to home where we’re going. I mean you’re going back to Minas Tirith, and we’ll be going to the Shire and…” his voice trailed off as he realized he was babbling.

“I shall miss you also, Pippin. But someday there will be visits. And there are always letters.”

“I’m not so good at letters. Besides, it’s not the same. I can’t ask you things.”

Never, since the first day he had met Pippin Took, had he ever thought it would be difficult to get him to talk. Clearly something was troubling the lad more than the prospect of missing his friends and companions.

“Ask what you will, Pippin. I shall try to answer if I can.”

Pippin glanced at him, and green eyes gazed into grey with a desperate earnestness. “Do you like being King?”

Although this was the last question Aragorn had expected, it was clearly more than mere Tookish curiosity. Something was troubling his small knight. Carefully he answered as honestly as possible.

“I do not, particularly, like being King. It is my duty, though, and I have always tried to find something to enjoy in the duties to which I am obligated. I like many things about being King, others, not so much. People say a crown is a burden, and so it is, but I find a special joy in knowing that I have the ability to help others, to make their lives better, to protect them from those who would prey on them. Not everyone can have such a privilege.”

“So sometimes you like it, sometimes not.”

Aragorn nodded.

“Did you always want to be King?”

“No. You must remember that I grew up as ’Estel’. I was twenty before I even knew who I was. I knew that I was a Man of the Dúnadain, and my hope was to become a Ranger and a healer among them.”

Pippin cocked his head, and now the gleam in his eye was curiosity. “Really?”

“Oh, yes, I had it all planned out; I would go among them, and bind up their wounds and ease their fevers.”

“That sounds a lovely plan.”

“Of course, I wished to fight the Enemy as well, and slay many Orcs.” Aragorn smiled at his own youthful enthusiasm and innocence.

“Were you horribly disappointed to find you had to be a King instead?” There was sincere distress in Pippin’s voice.

Aragorn laughed. “No, it wasn’t quite like that. At the first, all I knew was that I was Chieftain of the Dúnadain, and the last descendant of the Northern Kings. It was only gradually that I came to understand all that meant.” He thought back to how Lord Elrond had given him all the information he needed, and how long it had taken him to fully realize what it truly meant.

“But you still didn’t want to be King?”

“The Kingship itself? Nay. But the chance to strike a serious blow against the Enemy, to confound his plans, to unite the Free Peoples of the West against him--all that I wanted very much indeed. And later of course, there was my Lady Arwen.” His eyes softened briefly, and he cast a thought in her direction. She was spending the morning with Éowyn. “All those things came at the price of my becoming King and uniting Gondor and Arnor once more. It was more than worth the price.”

“Oh.” Again there was a wistful catch in Pippin’s voice. Aragorn turned and gazed into his eyes. Pippin blushed and looked away.

“Pippin? What is this really all about?”

The hobbit did not look up. “You know my father is Thain.”

“Ah.” Suddenly it all became very clear. He nodded.

The green eyes came reluctantly up to meet his. “I’ve never wanted to be Thain.”

“I see.”

“I mean, I always rather knew it was looming over me in a way, but it seemed like an unlikely thing that would only happen in some far distant future, when I was old.” Pippin gave a great sigh. “Then, when I was fifteen, the old Thain, Cousin Ferumbras, came to my father and said he would have to take it on. He said his health was bad, but he lived another ten years after that. I think it was really because his mother, old Lalia had finally died a few years before, and he wanted to have a little fun before he died. I don’t know. I don’t think Father wanted to be Thain either, but he did, and he’s been a good Thain.”

Pippin stopped and brushed a hand across his eyes roughly. “I can’t think I’d be very good at leading the Shire. Merry, now Merry’s going to be a brilliant Master of Buckland! He’s just perfect for the job, he makes plans ahead of time, and he’s clever, and he’s a good leader. But I’m just not like that. I don’t like to tell people what to do.”

He gazed up at Aragorn with a deep faith in his eyes. “But you are a King. I know you haven’t been King for long, but you are already good at it, and everyone loves you and respects you and does what you say. Being King must be much harder than being Thain. Can’t you tell me how to do it?”

Aragorn was deeply touched by Pippin’s artless question. He thought a moment before he answered. “Pippin, I think that you will be a better leader than you know. Tell me, what frightens you so about the idea of being Thain?”

Pippin looked a bit startled, but answered frankly enough. “Well, for one thing it will mean my father has died. That always terrified me. But now having come so close to it myself, and nearly losing the others, well, it seems like something I could face now if I had to.” Again he wiped his eyes. “But mostly, I’m afraid I will let everyone down, that I will do one of those stupid things that make Gandalf call me a ‘fool of a Took’ and bring disaster on the Shire. And, like I said before, I don’t like to tell people what to do.”

Aragorn looked at him sadly. He wanted to gather him up like a small lad and offer comfort, but that wasn’t what Pippin needed. The last thing he needed right now was to be treated like a child in need of cosseting.

“Pippin, you have done some foolish things impulsively. Yet, also impulsively, you have done some brave and clever things. For example, when Merry was injured by the Orcs, it was your impulsive actions that enabled the two of you to escape. Even though you are used to Merry telling you what to do, you took on a leadership role, because you knew that Merry could not, that he needed you.”

Pippin’s eyes widened. He had not thought of it that way.

“Taking advantage of the chance to run, so that you could leave your Lórien brooch for me to find, grabbing the opportunity to cut your bonds, taking advantage of the confusion when the Rohirrim attacked…each of those was a very clever idea. You say that Merry is clever because he makes plans ahead. You are right--Merry is a very intelligent hobbit, perhaps even more so than Frodo. But that is not the only kind of cleverness. You have the kind of cleverness that comes from acting on a sudden idea, and taking advantage of the moment.”

He could see by the dawning light in Pippin’s eyes that this was a wholly new way of looking at things.

“You have done any number of good things impulsively: swearing allegiance to Gondor, saving Faramir’s life, slaying a troll. As far as I know the only two impulsive things you have done on our journey that were not good ideas were to throw a stone down a well, and steal the palantír from Gandalf. And even those turned out for the best in the end.”

The hobbit grinned at him. “I had never thought of it like that at all!”

“As for ‘telling people what to do’, that is not the only way of leading them, and a liking for ordering folk about is not a good thing in a leader.”

“It’s not?”

“No, Peregrin. Someone who actually likes to tell people what to do ends up a tyrant. There are times when orders must be given, and you’ll know when that time comes; the rest of the time, there are other ways to get them to do what you want, and you are already very good at those. I have seen you wrap both Merry and Frodo around your little finger, even when they know what you are doing.”

Pippin smiled. “But that’s because they love me.”

“You are right. And the best way to get people to do what you wish is out of love. You have a remarkable talent for making people love you, as do your companions. You know, don’t you, that I would probably do anything for you that you would ask of me.”

“Oh.” Pippin’s eyes filled again. “Anything? What if I asked you to do something that was not right?”

“But you would not do that would you? Because you know that I love and trust you.”

“Strider, you really do think I will make a good Thain someday!” He sounded both delighted and surprised.

“Of course I do. And there is something else to consider. What is the purpose of the Thain, what were you taught about why there is a Thain?”

“The Thain was to hold the Shire--” he stopped, and a huge grin of understanding lit up his face, “--for the King! Strider, the King has come back!”

“Yes, he has. And can you think I would have any better person to serve as my Thain in the Shire than Sir Peregrin Took, Knight of Gondor, and Guard of the Citadel?”

“Oh, Strider!” He jumped up and threw his arms around the King’s neck. “There really isn’t anyone like you!” He stood back and grinned at his King.

Aragorn looked at him, rather gratified that he had been able to help his young knight.

Just then, Merry, trailed by Frodo and Sam, came up the steps.

“Pip! You should have come along! We stopped in the kitchens, and were fed a lovely bit of elevenses, even if the cooks didn’t know what to call it.”

Pippin grinned at them. “That’s all right, Merry. I’ve just been having a bit of a chin-wag with good old Strider!” He turned and looked back gratefully, before walking up the steps with his cousins and Sam. “So, tell me Frodo, what do you think of Rohan…”

Aragorn stood up slowly and watched with pride the retreat of his smallest knight.