A/N: Thank you to Pipwise for the beta.

Pippin felt as if he were trapped in a mist, in a dense fog as he had been on the Barrow-downs. He could not see where he was or where he was going, and knew only that he was wandering in the dark without even a star or pale sliver of the moon to guide him.

He kept hearing echoes of familiar voices, mere snatches of noise, but every time he tried to call out to them his own voice was smaller than a whisper, and soon the voices would fade, leaving him alone again.

After some time Pippin decided it was better to walk and try to find his way than to wait idly for help. He walked for a while but never seemed to go anywhere, until finally in the distance a large shape formed, and as Pippin walked closer he saw that it was the tallest mountain he had ever seen.

His steps grew more determined; perhaps if he climbed the mountain he would be able to look around and see where he was. But as he drew closer the mountain suddenly grew legs and stood, towering over him at an even greater height.

Pippin froze in place, and as he wondered what he should do the mountain toppled over, crushing him beneath its weight and scattering his thoughts.

All time seemed to stand still, and then move too fast, because suddenly Pippin felt himself floating, or flying, forward, the wind ruffling his hair. The air turned cooler, and he shivered a little, frightened, only to feel a pair of strong, warm arms wrap tighter around him and chase away the chill and his fear.

He could hear a faraway noise, like a bird’s wings flapping, only louder, but when Pippin strained his ears to listen the sound disappeared abruptly and he found himself back on the ground and wandering once more, searching for a friend or a familiar sight in the darkness until he grew too weary to go on.

“Perhaps I should just rest here, for a little while,” Pippin thought as he sat upon the cold ground. He felt drowsy and longed for sleep, just a short nap to regain his energy, and allowed his mind to drift away.

Time passed, how much he could not tell, and then, unbidden, his thoughts turned to Merry. Pippin shook his head, trying to clear his muddled mind, but his brain was too fuzzy to think.

“Merry?” Pippin tried to call out, but his throat did not seem to work either, and he choked instead.

A familiar, soothing presence appeared at Pippin’s side. He strained his eyes, trying to find its source, but saw nothing in the darkness.

“Who’s there?” he cried again and again in desperation, only to be surrounded by a thick wall of silence that his voice could not penetrate.

Pippin clenched his fists in frustration, and was surprised to feel something hot against the palm of his left hand.

The warmth flowed through his arm and into his body, and Pippin opened his hand slowly to discover two miniature spheres of light resting in his palm, shining brightly in the darkness.

The memory of a long-ago evening sprang to Pippin’s mind, and he remembered one of the many times he had been ill with a fever and cough. This time had been different, however, because Pippin had fallen sick at Bag End, and Gandalf had arrived midway through his illness. And that night Gandalf had sat up with him, had held him in his lap as he struggled to breathe, and given him a most wonderful and unexpected gift.

“Stars,” Pippin recalled, smiling, and at that word the tiny lights twinkled and leapt from his hand.

“Wait!” Stumbling to his feet, Pippin stretched out his hand, trying, and failing, to grasp the stars that hovered before him. He reached out again, frantically, and was relieved when the stars changed direction and circled him.

They seemed to recognize him, Pippin noted with a smile, and he relaxed a little as they flew around him, chasing each other.

Pippin watched, torn between confusion and amusement, though he felt his heart grow lighter as he watched the stars’ antics. He wondered what purpose they served, and how they had found him wandering so far from home.

The stars soared ahead, two twinkling lights piercing the terrible darkness around them. They waited, hovering in the air as Pippin took a halting step toward them, willing his mind and body to break free from the hazy, sluggish state it was in.

But the stars were patient and waited where they were, floating in the darkness as Pippin drew closer. When he was within reach they flew a short distance away and twinkled brightly, as if encouraging Pippin to follow.

Pippin forced his weary legs to continue walking, his steps coming quicker each time the stars soared ahead. They never allowed him to reach them, but always flew ahead, forcing Pippin to come to them.

The stars flew faster and faster, and shone ever brighter, beckoning Pippin to them. He hesitated just a moment, but knew deep in his heart that his stars would not lead him astray, and so he followed, first walking and then breaking into a run as he forced his exhausted body forward.

Finally Pippin was within reach. He stretched his hand out and managed to grab hold of the stars. Pippin smiled and looked at them resting in his palm, and the stars shone more than ever, glistening so brightly that his eyes were blinded by their intensity…and then the world went dark around him.

TBC...