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LifeWatch  by Lindelea

Chapter 15. Anticipating

The days flowed by after that, in a seemingly-endless stream of activity. There was the journey back to Minas Tirith, for starters, and seeming to go much more quickly, the distance shorter somehow than Pippin remembered from the march to the Black Gate. Yes, the armies of the West returned to Minas Tirith, most of them, anyhow, for there was to be a grand celebration and Coronation when Aragorn reached the city. The King had returned at last!

The Coronation was a grand and solemn affair, the hobbits all agreed. Men certainly knew how to do things up with pomp and ceremony and feasting to follow. Why, the Coronation feast had lasted nearly until morning the next day!

***

'I'm glad it was you carrying that crown and not me,' Pippin said. 'I probably would have dropped it.' The hobbits, after sleeping half the morning away, were gathered for tea the day after the Coronation. Pippin was certainly gratified to be keeping company with the Ring-bearers. He'd found as a guardsman that the people of Minas Tirith did not see fit to eat as often as hobbits would, getting by on merely two or three meals a day, and he was glad that someone was making sure the Ring-bearer and his companion had food available to them at all times.

'Then Gandalf would certainly have turned you into a toad for spoiling the ceremony,' Merry said.

Unabashed, Pippin grinned. 'It was quite a spectacle, wasn't it?' he said. 'Imagine, scruffy old Strider, a king!'

'O hello, Strider!' Frodo called cheerfully, and Pippin whirled.

His cousins laughed, and he put a hand over his heart. 'Don't do that to me!' he said dramatically. 'I think I've lost an inch of my height from the shock.' He eyed the tea tray. 'I need another cake to fortify myself.'

'You can have one of mine,' Frodo said. 'I couldn't eat another bite.'

'But Mr Frodo...' Sam protested.

Frodo turned on him. 'Don't you go offering him your share, Samwise Gamgee. You gave up enough meals on my behalf. You're done with such foolishness.'

'It's all right,' Pippin said off-handedly. 'I'll just eat Merry's share.'

'You already have,' Merry answered.

Pippin looked at the tray, surprised. 'O,' he said. 'So I have.'

***

And so the days continued to flow past, filled with events. The hobbits did not have to attend them all, and a good thing, too. Pippin found he didn’t mind so much, when Frodo “begged off” that he might go to the quiet of the Hall of Records, to facilitate the making of the written account he planned. Strider was busy these days, too, spending part of each day sitting in the Hall of Kings, sitting in judgment, handing out penalties and rewards one after another, and wisely too from all that was said in the marketplace.

And then there were the diplomatic meetings with the Haradrim, and some from the lands of the Easterlings, though not all of those had surrendered at the last battle.

Pippin spent much of his time in the first part of the week following the Coronation in attendance upon the King, but after the third day Elessar, having noticed the stifled yawns, had sent him to attend Frodo instead. He still stood at the King’s shoulder during the great feasts, or at least at the start, before Strider waved him to a chair. He stood ready to pour the wine into Strider’s cup, having to wait until after a man, one of the elite guard assigned to the King, quietly poured off the first half-glass from the evening’s bottle, and drank it down. Curious customs, as these men had. Pippin supposed it was a reward of some sort, though Strider never asked any of the hobbits to taste the wine before he did—they always received their portions from the King’s wine, along with the King, after the taster had downed his.

In any event, Pippin was growing weary of the social whirl, and he said as much to his cousins when the week was half done. 'I'm getting tired of celebrations,' he said, right out. It seemed they'd been suffering through feasts and banquets and speeches and ceremonies for days.

'You? Tired?' Merry asked in astonishment.

'Well, the feasting is all right, I suppose, but the rest of it, all the trappings and ceremonies and speeches, I can do without.' He yawned and stretched. 'I think I shall shut myself up in a tower like Frodo and write my memoirs.' His attempt to look serious and scholarly was rather spoiled by his cousins' shout. 'Or maybe I'll just join Frodo and help him write his.'

'No thank you, cousin!' Frodo laughed. 'I'm having quite enough trouble as it is!'

'Well, the next time a guardsman comes with one of those fancy invitations, tell him I'm not at home. I'm going to run off with Bergil and have an adventure instead.'

'Beregond will set Gilwyn upon the trail and find you,' Merry said, laughing. The seamstress had a knack for locating a hobbit who'd lost himself in the City, either by accident or on purpose.

'Now that's a celebration I wouldn't mind attending,' Pippin said. 'When is Beregond going to marry Gilwyn, anyhow?'

Merry sobered abruptly, tried to cover up with a laugh. 'O, Pippin, you know she's too busy trying to keep track of you and Bergil! She's no time for marrying at the moment.'

And Beregond would not marry the widow, only to make her a widow a second time.

To distract Pippin, Merry returned to the topic of feasting. Food was usually a good distraction for the younger hobbit. 'How about the toasts?' he asked.

'As long as they keep pouring that good wine in my cup, I don't mind the toasts,' Pippin answered. 'Of course, it makes a lot more work, you know, as I have to keep pouring wine into Strider's cup as well.'





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