Written for the "hobbit_ficathon" Bonfire Night challenge: a fire, a king, something remembered, and the number five. Extra points for a reference to Gandalf's fireworks.

Lyrics from 'I Sit Beside the Fire and Think' in "The Ring Goes South", FOTR.


Beside the Fire

When Aragorn walked outside, he found Pippin sitting by the fire, the shape of his body flickering in and out of the shadows as the flames leaped and danced before him. He did not seem to sense Aragorn’s approach, so intent was he on studying the flicker and glow of the flames, or perhaps he was not looking at them at all. He was singing softly to himself, the last verses of an old song of Bilbo’s, and then stopped and closed his eyes.

“But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,” Aragorn sang softly as he crouched down beside Pippin, watching the hobbit start violently and then recover quickly enough to smile to himself, and sing the last line along with him.

"I listen for returning feet and voices at the door...” Pippin's voice was wistful, and he sighed as their voices died away, but when Aragorn turned to smile at him a sheepish grin formed on the hobbit’s face in return as he settled back on his log. “You’re the only man I ever knew who could sneak up on a hobbit, you know,” he muttered. “But then I know very few so fond of lurking in the shadows as you are.”

Aragorn smiled, and winked. “It is hard to let go of old habits.”

“Yes, it is.” Pippin nodded, staring once more into the fire, his eyes reflecting the memories he’d been lost in before Aragorn came along. “I didn’t know you knew that song.”

“I remember hearing Frodo sing it once, and Merry too, on occasion, whenever one of you was feeling lonely, or missed home. It is hard to forget.”

Pippin nodded wordlessly. “Well, it’s not that I’m homesick, or lonely…” He gestured towards the door Aragorn had just emerged from. The sounds of the party within drifted out into the dark – homely sounds, Merry’s warm laughter, a lass’s voice. Four friends inside, but Aragorn sensed that Pippin believed he could no longer call himself dearest to any one of them, and it hurt, that feeling that everyone was growing older, changing, even after all they’d been through together.

And then there were those that weren’t here at all.

“It’s just that I miss them,” Pippin sighed. “I still miss the way it was, even though it’s been so many years. Too long ago to still be wishing for it.”

“Wishing for what?”

Pippin wrinkled his nose and gestured out in front of them, into the dark valley. “Frodo had the most marvellous fireworks when he came of age. That was the last time we were all together, Sam and my cousins and Gandalf; except for those times in Rivendell, and then the last time of course. But that was –” Pippin smiled, seeing that Aragorn understood, and paused for a moment, looking into the distance. “When I was young I always wanted to grow up, and now that I am grown I don’t think I know what to do with myself. I’d like things to be simple again, and yet not, because that would mean that nothing important ever happened, and I’d live my life just like every other hobbit, and that’s… that’s –

“Not you?” Aragorn finished with a smile.

“Not really,” Pippin admitted. “Crickhollow was home for a while, and I would have stayed there with Merry quite happily for as long as he could stand me. But now of course, things are a bit different.” He looked meaningfully at Aragorn, and Aragorn tried not to smile, knowing that Pippin would rather this party of hobbits was one of three, or four, but certainly not five.

“I’m sure that a plot of earth and a family will seem much more desirable once you’ve found yourself a lass of your own,” Aragorn said gently.

“It’s not that the lasses aren’t willing,” Pippin replied, trying to hide his embarrassment with a brash grin. Perhaps the thought scared him, that he might ever be content with that.

But it was more than that, too. A single date did not have to change everything, though the whole world could change forever in the course of one day. And every date marked the passing of another year, another year gone, and these years since Aragorn had known him had been hard on the lad. Especially this one, this final break with the childhood he’d already grown out of long ago. It should have been a release, to be considered old enough to make his own choices in life, Aragorn might have thought, if it were not for the burden of leadership he’d also carried with him all those long years. And if in his eyes Pippin was just the same brave youngster he’d known during the quest, only less impulsive, wiser, but still so very young… Pippin did not yet see himself as a leader, nor know how to be one.

“I miss them too,” Aragorn said eventually, exhaling heavily. He did not need to tell Pippin how much he still had to thank them for, that they were among the greatest friends he had ever known, for the same thoughts were written all over the hobbit’s face.

“I do not yearn for simpler days, because I know none, but I would wish back their friendship and guidance. We will always have the memory of their love, and their wisdom, and I suppose that of all things, we have not lost that.” He studied Pippin again with a frown, noticing the hobbit’s troubled expression, and wishing away all his hurts, the ones brought on by anxiety for the future, and the ones from the past. “You will never lose Merry, either, my friend. Just as you were apart for a time during the quest, your responsibilities may keep you in different parts of the Shire, but you will never be alone.”

“Even though he’s gone and got himself married off?” Pippin muttered, a smile in his eyes. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” The smile reached his lips, a helpless one, a smile of relief. “I know you are.”

“You’ll always have the friendship of your king too, Pippin Took. Our mischief and adventurer…" he smiled. "And Knight of Gondor.”

“Thain of the Shire, too, one day,” Pippin grimaced. He swallowed, and looked up, his eyes dark in the shadows created by the flames. “You know I’ll always serve you with all my heart.”

“A good heart it is, and worthy of great happiness,” Aragorn said sincerely.

Pippin grinned. “Perhaps the ernil i Pheriannath will be in need of a princess one day.”

At that moment, a cheer broke out inside. The long-awaited day had finally come, and Pippin took a deep breath as the rest of their party came tumbling out of the front door of Bag End. Estella, Rosie and Sam stood back to allow Merry to embrace his cousin mightily, and in the midst of the mêlée, Pippin, laughing, met Aragorn’s gaze.

“Happy coming of age, Pippin,” Aragorn smiled.

“Happy New Year, Strider.”