Home Again

The sound of hooves on the road startled Paladin and, without bothering to fetch his cloak, he hurried outside in time to see the riders dismount, surrounded by a growing crowd.

His eyes were drawn to one lad with his back to him, standing taller than the rest and dressed in black and silver with a sword gleaming brightly at his side. Paladin wondered who the stranger was. Had help arrived, from Buckland perhaps?

Something about the set of the stranger's shoulders and the curl of his hair as it rested against the back of his neck seemed familiar, and yet did not prepare Paladin for the shock he felt when the lad turned at last, revealing a face so like his own. A face that Paladin had feared he would never see again.

A series of emotions passed over Pippin's face, from joy to guilt to apprehension. The reins fell from his hand and he took a hesitant step forward before stopping, seemingly rooted in place. For all that his fine but rather outlandish garb lent him strength and confidence, suddenly Pippin looked young and lost, and much in need of his father.

In just two steps Paladin was at his side. The crowd's curious chatter dropped to a hushed murmur, but Paladin hardly noticed as he pulled Pippin into a hug, reassuring him as he always had.

Though he felt small and old when he looked up to meet Pippin's eyes, Paladin smiled. "My son."

Pippin smiled back.