A/N: Written for Periantari from her plotbunny. Thank you to Pipwise for the beta!

‘Sleep again, and do not be afraid!’ said Gandalf. ‘For you are not going like Frodo into Mordor, but to Minas Tirith, and there you will be as safe as you can be anywhere in these days. If Gondor falls, or the Ring is taken, then the Shire will be no refuge.’

‘You do not comfort me,’ said Pippin, but nonetheless sleep crept over him.

~ The Return of the King, “Minas Tirith”

Fighting off his drowsiness, Pippin peered into the darkness. He did not wish to close his eyes and revisit the horror of the palantír, which seemed to burn brightest in those moments of drifting between sleep and wakefulness. Instead Pippin turned his attention to the beacons high up on the hills, watching the flames of red and gold as they glowed and leapt against the black sky. When he shut his eyes again, their light remained trapped beneath his lids, small and pale bursts of flickering fire.

Pippin did not suppose that fire was out of place in these lands. Gandalf had said that Minas Tirith was near the Land of Shadow, and Pippin’s thoughts turned from flames atop hills to fiery mountains. He opened his eyes and craned his neck to look at the beacons once more as Shadowfax swiftly carried him and Gandalf further into the night.

No, Pippin mused gloomily as he retreated back into his shelter of cloaks and blankets. I suppose it must be much worse.

“What must be worse?” Gandalf asked. The rumble of his voice startled Pippin, who had not realized that he had spoken aloud, but he managed to recover from his fright.

“The fire,” he replied simply. “I was looking at the beacons just now, and thinking of – of Mordor, and how terrible it must be there. Do you remember what you said, Gandalf, when you convinced Lord Elrond to let Merry and I go along on the Quest? You spoke of ‘the road to the Fire.’”

“Yes,” Gandalf replied. “I remember.” He leaned forward to get a better look at the half-hidden hobbit sitting before him, and furrowed his brows in concern as he saw Pippin’s downcast, anxious expression. “What of it, my lad? You should be resting now, while you still may. What is troubling you so?”

“I keep thinking of Frodo and Sam,” Pippin whispered. “For so long I had no time to think of them at all – first there were the orcs, and poor Boromir trying to protect Merry and I, and then we were captured. I did think of Frodo then; I thought he must be all right, if the orcs had found Merry and I instead of him. But I couldn’t think of him for too long, because Merry was so hurt, and I was so afraid that he would die, and all I wished was for us to escape.”

Gandalf closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head. Not for the first time did the wizard wish that hobbits, of all creatures, could have been shielded from such experiences, but now he simply patted Pippin’s shoulder, encouraging him to continue.

“And then we did escape, and we met Treebeard and suddenly we were going to Isengard…and you know the rest of it, Gandalf. You were there,” Pippin said with a smile, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared as his mind returned to more troubled thoughts. “All this time I’ve assumed that Frodo was safe, or at least as safe as he could be, but just before you spoke of the Ring being taken and, well, I can’t help but be afraid, even though you said not to.” He twisted around, wishing to catch some sign of reassurance in the wizard’s face. “Where do you think Frodo is right now, Gandalf? Is he in Mordor?”

Gandalf looked down into Pippin’s small, eager face. “It is impossible to know just where Frodo and Sam are at this very moment. I hope that they are in Mordor, or close to it, not because I wish for them to be in such a place, but because that would mean that no harm has come to them yet.”

“Do you think something terrible will happen to them?” Pippin asked anxiously. “Or are you just being gloomy as usual?”

Gandalf could not help but chuckle at that. “A most impertinent hobbit!” he said, shaking his head before casting off his laughter and turning serious once more. “Frodo is in grave danger, Pippin, which I am certain you realize, or else you would not be asking me about it.”

“I do realize it,” Pippin whispered, trembling. “I’ll never forget hearing those words when I looked into the stone – his words. They hurt me terribly, and I don’t even have a Ring. What would he do to Frodo?” Tears stung at his eyes, and he tried to hold them back.

For a long moment Gandalf was silent. With a deep sigh he finally replied, “Sauron would want the Ring back, and would use all of his force to do so. You experienced but a small taste of his power, Pippin. He is capable of much worse. Do not cry!” he said, trying to soothe the hobbit. “Never before did you witness such evil, and looking into the palantír has helped you understand our Enemy better than you did, and so something good has come of that. But I do not doubt that you are beginning to understand what a burden it can be to have such knowledge,” the wizard added gently.

“Right now I feel as if my head will burst,” Pippin replied miserably, wiping at his eyes with his sleeve. “I don’t know how you stand it, Gandalf. I couldn’t bear knowing everything there is to know.”

“I do not know everything, my dear lad,” Gandalf said with a sad smile.

“But you would know it if something happened to Frodo,” Pippin said, his voice desperate. “Wouldn’t you?”

“We would all know it, Pippin, if the Enemy regained control of the Ring,” Gandalf replied.

“So Frodo and Sam must still be safe,” Pippin said, understanding what the wizard had left unsaid. “Frodo would never give up the Ring willingly, and Sam would never let anyone have It if something did happen to Frodo.”

“No,” Gandalf murmured. “They would not turn from their tasks.” He frowned, musing to himself for several long moments before a quiet yawn disrupted his thoughts, and he peered closely at Pippin, who was growing sleepy once again. “Rest now,” he said, tucking the blankets and cloaks more closely around the hobbit.

“Good night,” Pippin mumbled drowsily, leaning back against Gandalf. This time when he shut his eyes he did not see fire, but Frodo, and Sam and Merry as well, and as he drifted off to sleep Pippin clung to the thoughts of those he loved best.