Author notes:
This story has been written for Slightly Tookish who asked for a little ficlet including a very young Pippin. Whoever enjoyed my story The Bond Between Us will most likely enjoy this piece as well.

Special thanks to shirebound for betaing.

A Stormy Night

Pippin could feel the soft light shining from him. It was the light of love, compassion, mercy, goodwill, curiosity and understanding. It was Frodo's light; a radiance Pippin had first seen as a child, snuggled close to his elder cousin on his first visit to Bag End, his first night away from home.
[The Bond Between Us - The Field of Cormallen]

The long, dark corridor of the unfamiliar smial stretched before him almost ominously. Pippin clutched the knob of the door to his room tightly, reassured by the cold brass beneath his small hands. When his uncle had allowed him to have one of the 'good' rooms - one with a big round window - all for his own, Pippin had been beside himself with joy. But, thinking about it now, having a room with a window had not been a good idea at all.

Outside a storm was raging and, if clattering rain and loud, grumbling thunder had not been enough to trouble him, blue and violet flashes of lightning certainly did keep him from falling asleep again.

The golden and red flame of a single lamp lit the corridor as Pippin looked to both sides, biting his lower lip. It was nothing like the small hobbithole he shared with his parents and sisters. Bag End rather reminded him of Great Smials, though the Baggins-home lacked the hullabaloo with which the Took-smial always echoed. Pippin pricked up his ears; though the silence seemed impenetrable, he could make out the voices of his Ma and Dad and that of Uncle Bilbo.

A grin lit up his face, and Pippin stepped into the dim light of the candle on wall only to pause again as he remembered the conversation from earlier that evening. He had begged and pleaded for quite a while to have a room for himself, and his dad had not been too pleased at the fact that Uncle Bilbo had allowed him his will. Paladin Took had been convinced that his son would be up and about again even before midnight, and he had threatened Bilbo to send the lad immediately to his uncle if he bothered him and Eglantine in the night, complaining about darkness, cold, or silence in his room.

Pippin didn't know if it was past midnight now and, in fact, he did not care. All he was sure of was that there was a storm going on and that he felt terribly lonely in the big room with the window. He would never admit, though, that he felt like crying at the sound of thunder and that he missed his mother's comforting arms.

"I'm not afraid," he told himself bravely, and opened the door to his room -- just when a flash of lightning lit up the night sky and was answered with grumbling thunder. Pippin shrank back from the door until he bumped against the opposite wall. Only by closing his eyes and biting his lip could he keep himself from crying out in shock.

"I'm not afraid," he repeated, his voice trembling. Hesitatingly he opened his eyes again, looking from one side to the other. Everything was dark again except for the dim flickering light of the lamp. Pippin swallowed hard trying to calm his shallow breathing. Almost longingly he looked down the corridor to the living-room where he presumed his parents were talking, when he suddenly grew aware that there was one voice missing in the quiet conversation. Frodo wasn't with them -- and surely he was afraid of the thunderstorm.

Tiny, naked feet hurriedly patted along the corridor, then Pippin clutched yet another knob and swung open the door in a quick movement. A mop of tousled hair appeared in the bedroom, and only moments later the door closed with a silent 'pang'. Pippin listened intently, his muscles tense like a bowstring, but there was no movement outside. No one had heard his desperate flight to his cousin's room. No, it was no flight, it was a mission; Peregrin Took's quest to calm down the wrath of a thunderstorm - and the wrath of his own restless heartbeat.

There was a window in Frodo's room as well, and obviously his elder cousin had not even cared to close the curtains. Pippin swallowed hard at the sight and sound of gusts of wind clattering heavy raindrops against the glass. His eyes widened as he watched flashes of lightning illuminating the clouded night sky. Surely his cousin must be very frightened.

With his hands stretched out, Pippin stumbled across the dark chamber to his cousin's bed. He almost bumped into the nightstand before he came to a halt and looked at the bed sheets. Curly dark brown hair, one hand, and a nose were all that emerged from underneath the blanket. Pippin furrowed his brow in disappointment and just the tiniest bit of uneasiness. Frodo did not look scared. In fact, he looked very much asleep.

Pippin waited for a moment, unsure of what to do, when all at once he found a sign giving him reason to think that his cousin was in dire need of protection. One of Frodo's fingers was twitching uneasily. Unceremoniously and with a grin of satisfaction Pippin climbed onto the bed and over his cousin, nestling down between the warmth of Frodo's body and the wall.

Frodo woke to the feeling of someone using his body as a climbing frame. Unwilling to abandon his slumber so easily, he grumbled incoherently when a sharp intake of breath caused him to open his eyes. Startled, he turned around to discover…

"Pippin," he mumbled groggily. "What are you doing here?"

Sheepishly Pippin, face half hidden underneath the blanket, glanced at his cousin and declared matter-of-factly, "You're frightened, and I'm here to protect you." Just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the room for several seconds. Pippin flinched and squeezed his eyes shut in spite of his intention not to.

"I see," Frodo observed sleepily, an amused smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Will you stay with me, then?"

Pippin nodded vigorously, his eyes shining.

"Very well," Frodo answered, glad that things were so easily settled. Yawning noisily, he laid one hand on Pippin's forehead and gently stroked over the child's face, tricking him into closing his eyes. "Now go to sleep."

For several moments there was silence, peace. Pippin had rolled into a small ball beside his cousin, drifting off, when an unusually loud clap of thunder seemed to roar through the smial. Immediately Pippin was awake again, opening first one eye, then the other peeking unsettled at his cousin. To his dismay, he found Frodo fast asleep, and Pippin was not sure if he liked his cousin asleep while he still had to struggle with the storm. He frowned, already reaching out a hand to shake Frodo awake when, in the dim, misty grey of the night, he became aware of a contented smile on his cousin's face.

Pippin held still, closely observing Frodo's features. He looked peaceful now, at ease, detached from the world and its troubles. He did not care about the darkness, did not heed the storm. His mind wandered far off in a distant place no one but he alone could perceive. All that remained of him was a warm, golden glow.

Pippin's frown deepened, and he blinked. He had never seen something like this, had never recognised the comforting shimmer. It was not bright and shining, as light usually was. It was more like a feeling -- a radiance that vibrated from his cousin like the beating of a drum. Pippin smiled and carefully reached out a hand to catch the warming glimmer, but could not get hold of anything. His fingers simply plunged through it. Not sure whether he should be annoyed or delighted, Pippin reached out again, poking Frodo's cheek. After several unsuccessful tries at capturing the glow, he traced his fingers along his cousin's face, forgetting storms and fears.

Frodo woke as if troubled by a buzzing midge. He thought briefly of shooing it away, but as he could hear and feel nothing, he did not even bother to open his eyes before allowing sleep's gentle fingers to draw him back to the realm of dreams.

But just as he drifted off, he felt it again. It was no midge. Someone was touching him, giggling and repeatedly nudging his cheek. Pippin; of course, how could he forget?

"What is it, Pip?" he mumbled, struggling to open his eyes.

"It shimmers!" Pippin's eyes glistened with utter delight.

Frodo furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You--" the rest was lost in a frightened outcry as grumbling thunder shook the smial like a wrathful dragon. Even Frodo looked up at the noise and Pippin crouched, clutching his cousin's nightshirt tightly, whimpering. His next words were but a whisper. "Make it go away, Fro."

Frodo, his eyes on the window, sighed as he turned back to his cousin. The poor lad was trembling all over, one half of his face hidden underneath the blanket, the rest behind his nightshirt. Frodo smiled compassionately at his cousin and ran his fingers through the brown mop of curly hair. "It's all right, Pippin. Don't be afraid," he soothed.

"What was it?"

Frodo shook his head, gently taking hold of Pippin's hand and guiding them away from his clothing so that he could see his cousin's face again. "I don't know," he replied honestly. "Perhaps a tree was struck."

Pippin's eyes widened. "Is there going to be a fire?"

"No." Frodo shook his head, though he was not sure about that himself. He knew though that Bilbo would call for him had anything happened. He listened intently for any movement while he covered up his little cousin. There was none; the silence in the corridor remained. There was nothing to worry about.

"Don't trouble yourself, child. Go to sleep and forget about the storm." Pippin opened his mouth as if to say something, his green eyes gazing at him uneasily, but Frodo hushed him before his young cousin could speak. "You're safe, Pippin. I will watch over you."

Frodo laid a gentle hand on his cousin's cheek and guided his head back to the cushions. Pippin did not protest, but looked at him for a very long moment. "Will you always watch over me?" he suddenly inquired. "Like the light does over you?"

Frodo frowned, surprised at the second remark, but then he nodded. "Yes, cousin, I will watch over you."

Pippin smiled, suddenly feeling very weary. He huddled close to his cousin, nestled down in his warm embrace and closed his eyes. "Good night, Fro."

"Good night," Frodo whispered.

The sound of raindrops filled the room as Pippin slowly drifted off into a deep slumber. A light seemed to embrace him, protect him. Comfort filled him and, as he listened to the song of rain, thunder echoed in the distance but he did not care. There would be no more troubles this night.

~THE END~