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And Fear No Darkness  by Antane

A/N: Pippin wishes that Frodo had heard Theoden’s advice, because as they all discover after the Quest, Frodo very much fears the dark... A gap-filler for the movie which covered very little of the time in Minas Tirith and the trip home. Very slightly AU in the timing of the crossing of the Ford and the first illness. It begins and ends at Bag End and follows the movie version in that it was never disclosed what happened to that hole after Frodo left on the Quest. Crickhollow is visited but Frodo never moved in there, even for a night, as he did in the book . The usual slash-free love and angst-fest.

You’re sleepwalking again. I know that since you do not consciously go out at night anymore and I grieve that your love for nocturnal jaunts was another thing stolen from you by the horrors that have scarred you in ways you and we are still discovering. Night was when the Black Riders nearly caught you at the Ferry. Night was when you were stabbed on Weathertop. What other things happened at night that Merry and I don’t even know about, beyond what we hear you and Sam whisper and sometimes scream in your nightmares? I know that you sometimes think they are still pursing you. A single tear tracks down my cheek as you silently leave. Sam is up and almost out the door before I even rise. The squeak of the hinge woke him as it woke me. It’s not loud and Sam said before he would oil it, but we’ve quietly let that task go undone. It’s the only way we know when you leave and we don’t want you to be out alone. We’ve all become very light sleepers in our vigilant guard over you, but I think Sam is more attune to you than anyone.

I don’t think even you knew how much being out after dark would frighten you. We were still in Minas Tirith when you first felt it. It was the day after Aragorn’s coronation and we were free to look around the city, anxious for some distraction from the war that had so scarred us all. So we decided to stay out all day and seek out the less damaged sections. What a great time we had! The three of us watched you closely all day, making sure that you were doing all right, that you weren’t getting overtired, that you ate and drank enough. Despite the pain that still lingered in your eyes and the fact that you kept you kept your injured hand in your pocket the whole time, you seemed to enjoy the day as well. We certainly did, just being with you after so long apart. Your loving glances at us, your voice, your laughter - what a joy it was to hear that again! -soothed the wounds in our souls as well as your own. We knew you had been hurt the worst and we each would have given our right arms to save you from that and the terrible burden you had carried and I know you felt the same way about us. But you gave much more than that, didn’t you? You gave your entire self.

But that day was bright and we were together, your hand sometimes wrapped around mine or Merry’s and we felt you would, we all would, heal, given time and each other. It was only when the shadows began to lengthen that you looked up into the sky nervously. You quickened your strides as we were still quite a bit from where we had been given lodging. Sam noticed your anxiety sooner than Merry or I and took your hand, your injured one, gently in his. You held his hand in a firm grip, ever tighter as the shadows grew deeper, even though I could tell it pained you to do that. Your steps grew quicker until you were nearly running.

“We’ve got to get back before dark!” you cried in a near panic. You knew, we all knew, we would never make it in time.

It was a gorgeous sunset with all the reds and pinks and purples stained the sky. I don’t think I had ever seen anything so beautiful, especially after so much darkness, and I wish you could just stop and appreciate it, but I doubt you even saw it. You were flat out running now. You had let go of Sam’s hand, but he ran right beside you as you tried to outrun the night. It swallowed you though and you stopped abruptly inside a doorway and hid there, trembling badly, unable to move.

“Don’t let them get me!” you cried, pressing yourself against the door, as though you wished you could just melt into it. “Please don’t let them get me.”

We all stood there, paralyzed for a moment, uncertain as to what to do and frightened by how afraid you were. Sam recovered first and from the compassion and grief on his face I wondered what other horrors he had had to protect you from. He scooped you up as though you were a child. Your wide eyes held nothing but fear as you grabbed onto his cloak so tightly your knuckles were as white as your face. Sam’s eyes were bright with tears, but shone even more with a fierce, tender, protective love when he looked down at you and smiled. A little of the fear left your eyes then and you buried your head in his chest as he started off at as quick a pace as he could manage without upsetting you too much. Merry and I followed right behind.

You were still trembling so badly when we got back to our room that Merry and I had to help you into your nightshirt, then under a bunch of covers. Merry held you then, as I lit every candle and lamp in the large room to give you every possible light I could. Sam went to the fireplace to start it going to warm you and also some water heating so he could brew you some chamomile tea. I crawled in next to you, just wanting to be near you.

The fear was still greatly in your eyes as you clutched our dear Merry tight enough to hurt, but our cousin said nothing about that, just murmured comforts and sang to you until finally his words pierced your fear and reached your heart. When Sam returned with the steaming mug of tea, you broke away from Merry and sat up to accept the drink. The fear had left your eyes enough that you were able to smile at Sam.

Unfortunately, you were still shaking badly enough, that most of the tea spilled down your chin and soaked the front of your nightshirt. When I teased you that the proper way to drink tea was to make sure it went inside of you, you gave me a shaky smile and a profuse apology for forgetting your manners. I rejoiced that you could banter with me so. As Sam retrieved a new nightshirt for you, I got you a fresh cup and held it to your lips as you drank it slowly. The fear receded even further from your eyes and you looked at me as lovingly as you ever did and your shaking stopped. Once we got you into the clean nightshirt, you sat back and thanked us all and apologized again for being such trouble. Your smile was a little fuller as you relaxed. You even laughed at one of my jokes. It was so good to hear you getting back to normal again or as normal as you can be with all that has happened. It helped us feel a little more normal too.

There is so much we don’t know of what happened to you and Sam, so much worry that fueled our nightmarish wonderings of how you were faring, whether you were even alive, so much guilt that stoked our restless dreams that we couldn’t be there to protect you. Sam’s eyes hold shadows and that hurts enough, but yours are so much deeper. I wonder what you see when you look into our eyes. I see new pain there, new guilt that you couldn’t protect us from what had happened. We have told you over and over that you should not feel that guilt, but you have always been our protector, all our lives, and it’s not something you can easily let go. We are so anxious to help you, but a little frightened at the same time that we have to. You have always been our comforter, our strength, our guide. You have been the one to dry our tears, bind our wounds and kiss our bandages. You have held us close after nightmares woke us and frightened away all the monsters in the night. You have always been there for us, our protector against all terrors. Now you need comforting, you need protecting, you need strength to fight the demons that plague you still. I am only a small hobbit, not even of age, but I will fight for you, gentlest of cousins. You know that, don’t you?

You always saved me from all sorts of dragons, goblins, trolls and all manner of other monsters that disturbed my sleep after I had begged Cousin Bilbo again for one of his stories. I remember, a wee lad of seven, curling up in your lap as you stroked my curls and we both listened with rapt attention until I could no longer keep my eyes open and as always my body betrayed me into sleep far sooner than I thought was just. I remember you taking me up in your arms and tucking me into bed, kissing my brow and telling me good night and how much you loved me. I’d wake enough to hug you around your neck and kiss you and tell you the same. I remember when you’d come in just a little bit later when an overactive imagination woke me whimpering and crying out for you. You made a diligent search of my room for any lurking monsters, shining the lamp underneath my bed, behind it and behind the door and in the closet. I usually had to remind you to double-check the hallway before we settled down, me in your arms, as you stroked my curls and softly sang to me the lullaby your parents had sung to you. You had such a beautiful, loving voice I struggled to stay awake to hear it all. When it was over and my eyes had closed long before, you leaned over and kissed my head and then we both sleep. I was never bothered anymore, so safe and protected in your arms. I wonder, cousin, will you ever sing again? The world will be a far poorer place if you do not.

I admitted to you one night that sometimes I deliberately frightened myself so you would come. You looked surprised, then smiled. “Silly Took,” you said, “why would you ever do that?”

“Because I want to be with you.”

Your smile grew more tender and you ruffled my hair. “You can be with me anytime, dearheart,” you told me. “You don’t have to scare yourself silly first.”

So far then on, I slept in your bed whenever I visited. You had assured me that no monsters lived in your room. I knew that, of course, before you even told me. No monster would dare touch you, cousin. Oh, how I wish that were still true as I watch you leave out your front door. You’ve fought demons worse than I could have ever thought of. They are real and though I would give my life to protect you from them, they dwell in places I cannot reach. None of us can. At least not yet. All we can do now is what you’ve always done for us - hold you and love you and protect you as we well as we can and hope one day the terrors will be banished from you.

Maybe your demons can’t be sung away or kissed away or even driven away by holding you, but that won’t stop any of us from trying anyway. We will sing to you until we are too hoarse to speak. We will kiss your brow until there is a furrow there in the shape of our lips. We will hold you all day and all night. We will tell you we love you over and over and over. I thought you beautiful and perfect when I was a child and you are still that, fairest cousin. You have suffered much, but what you did, you did out of love for us and out of love for you, we will do everything in our power to heal your torment and have you know peace again.

Merry would often be with us as well those days we spent together as lads and we’d spend, sometimes just the three of us, sometimes with Sam, out all day in the bright sunshine, tramping through field and meadow, playing seek and find or running races or you holding one of us by both hands and twirling us around us around until we squealed in delight and you laughed until we both fell down dizzy. And then you’d have to repeat that over and over until you begged for mercy because you could longer tell up from down you were so dizzy from doing it so many times. Afterwards we’d simply walk hand-in-hand with you and that was just as much fun. Do you remember any of that, my gentle, loving cousin? Do you remember what it was like to be happy and full of light and joy? I want to help you never forget. We all do.

We may never again lay out at night on the grass, counting stars and staring up in wide-eyed wonder as you named them and told us the stories behind them. We may never go walking again in the night, your hand in ours. I remember how Merry and I used to fight who would hold your hand because when the four of us when out, we always lamented you had just two hands and one of us was always left out. Sam always deferred to us, but we had no heart to leave him out all the time so whoever was left out on the way out, that one’s hand was held on the way back. It was the fairest solution and worked just fine. We so loved being with you and you with us. I loved most when I had you all to myself, just listening to the sounds of the nightbirds, secure in the knowledge that no evil lurked outside that could touch us. We were with each other. There was no safer place. Let me, let us three, show you again how that could be.

Sometimes you would make up a silly story for me before we slept. You always had the most wonderful stories and the ones you made up just for me were the best. I lived for those stories. You always had me giggling my head off and then you’d start too and then it would turn into a tickling, squealing fest so loud that Cousin Bilbo would come and see what all the fuss was about. He’d watch us for a few moments, then shake his head and leave with a large smile on his face. He loved seeing you happy as much as I did and you were always so happy.

We’d finally calm down enough to sleep. I never had any more nightmares because I was always with you. I still insisted that you sing that lullaby though. You would sometimes laugh softly, call me your silly Took, always you would smile, then you would sing to me and kiss my head. I felt so loved. If I was still awake, I would murmur back a very sleepy, “I love you, too, Cousin.” I wouldn’t see your smile then, but I could hear it in your reply, “I love you, too, my Pippinsqueak.” I could feel it in the touch of your hand.

Oh, cousin, when was the last time you giggled? Heavens, when was the last time you were tickled? When did you last enjoy life as much as we did then, greeting each day with joy, eyes bright with the light that poured from you, instead of shining from held back tears? I’m going to make sure those times are not lost forever in the past. I’m going to reach for the bottom of your feet and your stomach and you are going to giggle like you haven’t in years and the light is going to shine again from your eyes. And we’ll see if you remember to reach under my arms and behind my ears and recall what it’s like to be joyful and alive.

Our efforts had already started, from the moment you and Sam woke, even before actually. It continued that night you were so frightened of the dark. When you had calmed down enough to eat something, Sam and Merry went out to find some dinner to bring back. We had a good time, all of us sitting on the bed, eating and drinking. You almost looked all right again though you were still careful to keep your maimed hand as out of sight as possible.

I reached out for that hand as we were finishing and told you that it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of, that we still loved you more than we could say, more than ever because you suffered so much. Everything stopped at that moment. Your smile disappeared and your light dimmed. You looked at me rather pained, the cheer gone from your eyes. My heart broke that I caused you new pain when all I wanted to do was help relieve it. I looked briefly at Merry and Sam who were looking at you, bracing themselves for your reaction. None of us knew how you would, maybe even you didn’t.

You pulled your hand away from mine and I began to apologize amid tears that I hadn’t meant to hurt you. You pulled me into your arms and kissed my head, and said, of course you knew that and you called me a silly Took and told me how much you appreciated what I had said and tried to do, even if the act itself had startled you. You stroked my curls and rocked me gently and held me for a long time as I cried for all that you had to endure and was still tormented by. I held onto you tightly, hoping to comfort you as you well. When I had calmed enough, you wiped the last of my tears, smiled at me and let me go. It was only then that I saw that you had been crying too.

Merry then announced that it was time for bed as we all looked tired. I looked hopefully at you, wanting to stay with you, to help you if I could if your nightmares proved too much for you or if my own did for me. You reached out your maimed hand to me and I held it gently and you smiled bravely at me, through your pain. While Sam and Merry cleared the dishes, I curled up next to you, nestling my head against your good shoulder and you put your arm around me. Merry then came up and lay on your other side. Sam looked a little lost for a moment, as though he was upset that his place as your protector had been usurped. You gave him a look and smile of such pure, deep love, it bordered on adoration, as you assured him that you would be fine with us. He still looked a little forlorn, but smiled back at you with even greater love, then in that marvelously large bed, he lay down next to Merry.

It had been so long since either Merry or I had held you that I was so glad to do it that night, instead of the months we spent worrying about you. It had nearly killed us not knowing if you and Sam were all right and then when I had to leave Merry as well, I truly do not know how I bore it. But now we had you and we didn’t want to let you go. I know you didn’t want to either.You kissed our heads goodnight, told us you loved us and then we snuggled close to you, one of each of our arms stretched across your chest, as we used to do. We sang your favorite lullaby to you, both of us together.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.

Let aside your cares

I will protect you.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.

Let no darkness touch you

I will guard you.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.

Let your worries fade away

I will not leave you.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.

Let no pain plague you

I will defend you.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.

Let no terror frighten you

I will always be with you.

“Sleep now

And know that I love you.”

You closed your eyes and just listened with a beautiful smile on your lips. We grinned at each other to see that. You gave a very sleepy thank you for the song, then fell into sleep. We kissed your brow, then settled down to sleep ourselves. We thought with such loving protection, no demons would dare approach you, but we could not guard your mind where the terror already dwelt, waiting for you.

The three of us woke when you sat up abruptly an hour later and cried out. I frantically reached to re-light the lamp nearest to the bed. There was a wild, terrified look in your eyes and at first you fought Merry as he sought to pull you into his arms, but as he shushed and murmured comforts and rocked you, you slowly calmed. We were both scared, but Merry was able to keep his voice level as he spoke to you. I rubbed your back, feeling helpless to do anything else. Eventually you settled back against him and held him, your ragging breath returning to normal.

I hardly dared to look at Sam, fearing that I’d see accusation in his face that Merry and I had let you down, that you weren’t all right as you had promised you would be. But when I did look, there was no blame in his eyes, only grief and pain for you. He looked only a moment at me, then stared transfixed at you. There were tears in his eyes, but I doubt he was even aware of them falling. My heart broke for all the pain I saw there just as his broke for yours. I could see how badly he wanted to comfort you himself, but after a long while, he lay back down, knowing that you were safe with Merry. I don’t know if you were even aware of him looking at you with such incredible love and grief. You were able to sleep again, but it was a long time after that before we could. Merry and I looked sorrowfully at each other, tears escaping down our cheeks when we knew you wouldn’t see them.

The next night, the night terrors came again and this time Sam was with you and we hadn’t even retired ourselves yet. But you had been tired and gone to sleep early and Sam had stayed with you. We rushed to your side when we heard you call out. Sam reached for you and we watched you struggle against him until you opened your eyes and calmed as you realized who was holding you. You clung to him and looked into his eyes with such love and adoration, with such trust that you were now safe. The look he gave back to you was even stronger, tears bright in his eyes. His eyes shone with such profound adoration, it was like looking into something holy. That was the only way to describe it. Merry and I were completely transfixed by it, greatly moved as we realized as never before what had gotten you through the Quest and more assured than ever that if love could heal you, there would be no doubt of your recovery. I don’t think you were even aware we were standing there, keeping your eyes staring into Sam’s so you wouldn’t be dragged back into whatever terror you had just escaped from. We listened as he spoke and sang to you softly and you were able to eventually get back to sleep.

The next night, it was not you that needed comforting, but the one giving it as I woke crying out from nightmares of my own and you reached for me even before Merry.

We rose at dawn the day we were to leave for home. We had been talking about it for days and you were just as anxious to get back as we were, but as the day drew nearer you got more and more nervous because, of course, it meant many nights spent out in the open. You couldn’t sleep at all the night before and nothing we could do could alleviate it. Sam had you nearly swimming in all the chamomile tea he gave you, but to no avail. Not even our holding you helped you more than a few minutes. We all rose bleary-eyed that morning. You tried to hide how frightened you were but of course you couldn’t. We were actually very tempted to ask Gandalf if he could send one of the eagles for you to see if they could fly you fast enough home so you wouldn’t need to spend even one night out in the open, but you heard us talking about it and forbade us to do anything. You didn’t want any special treatment, you said, though we could all see in your eyes how much you longed for that very thing - to be home in your bed without any stops between. Instead, you silently prepared yourself and was the first to be ready to ride, already seated on your pony before we even finished breakfast. Your looked very pale and your hands were clutching the reins so tightly, your knuckles were white. But you still tried to appear unafraid, as though you could fool anyone about how badly you were trembling inside. You hadn’t even been able to eat at first your stomach was in such knots. It was more an indication of your overwhelming fear than anything else that you forgot that Sam wasn’t going to stand for that. He simply stated he wasn’t going to mount until you did ate. You looked down at him and he looked up at you and Merry and I were amused to watched a contest of who could outstubborn who. With a soft, sad smile, you conceded the match as we suspected you would and you accepted the apple he gave you and slowly munched on it. When Sam was satisfied you had at least a little in you, though not anywhere as much as any of us would have liked, he mounted his pony and.rode beside you all day. We weren’t any further behind you than him. We hoped just having us near would help you.

Before we left, the queen had given you the gem you now wear constantly around your neck, always reaching for it, clutching it, trying to draw strength and hope and comfort from it, when we cannot give it to you ourselves. She embraced you and kissed you and you held onto her tightly for a moment before letting go, thanking her for her gift. She gave you a smile and you bravely, though faintly, returned it. Aragorn came to say goodbye as well, kissing and embracing you as well and you held on like you didn’t want to let go, but then you did, looking away, you hoped, before anyone could see your tears. But we all saw them. We saw Gandalf looking at you gravely and Arwen trying to keep her own tears from falling. We all grieved for your continued hurts. Gandalf and Aragorn had both told us that your nightmares and ours were normal and to be expected as we all to adjust to what had happened to us and they would probably continue for some time. But your dreams were so much worse because your reality had been so much worse.

It was a bright, sunny day when we set out and that helped all our spirits. I saw you lift your head back and close your eyes and just bask in all that light as though if you had enough of it in you, the night would not bother you. You were smiling then and we were thrilled to see it. But all of it was in vain, as you grew more and more withdrawn and nervous and as sunset approached, everyone could see how badly you were trembling. Gandalf gave you one look and announced that we would be stopping early for the night. You insisted that you wanted to go on and we know you would have until you dropped, having no desire to be prolong the trip home longer than necessary, but we stopped all the same. You sighed as you lost the second battle of wills that day.

You insisted on dismounting yourself, even though Sam held out his hand to help you, and it was good he did, because you would have fallen had he not been there to catch you. He set you down on a cloak he spread out for you and then brought you a steaming bowl of soup for you to eat. You looked at it rather hungrily, but with a slight frown, as though you were not sure you were up to eating it. But then you looked up at Sam, saw his expression and that was that. Your hands were shaking slightly when you meekly raised them to receive the bowl with a small smile and murmured thanks. Merry and I smiled at each other over your head. But I must admit, we were a little disappointed that particular contest of wills had ended so soon. You took the tea he offered next with further thanks. Sam watched you until you had finished everything, then he sat down and ate his own dinner.

We started a fire to keep us warm, thinking that would help you also. Surrounded by that and so many friends, we hoped you would be all right, but your eyes held a hunted, trapped look. You constantly looked around and your body was tense, ready to spring up and flee, as though you were expecting attack at any moment.

Gandalf sat down next to you, telling you that the Riders were no more. You looked up at him, wanting to believe him. I think you did, but you were too tightly wound to sleep until Gandalf took you into his arms and you buried your head into the deep folds of his cloak and you were able to fall asleep at last as he stroked your curls gently. We were surprised to hear him softly sing to you. He had a beautiful voice.

I remember being almost as surprised when we were waiting for you and Sam to wake after the eagles had brought you back to hear Aragorn singing to you. Merry and I had stepped out for a minute and when we returned, he was sitting at your bedside, singing a soft Elvish song. We didn’t understand the words, but you must have because your features didn’t look so strained. He explained that it was a song his mother used to sing to him when he was ill. I never realized how much he loved you until then. Perhaps he didn’t either. You have affected so many lives, cousin. Listening to Gandalf, I realized as never before how much he loved you too. How much we all love you, how we all want you to be well again. We were able to sleep that night curled around you two. You didn’t wake again until morning.

We were relieved that you slept well each night after that, as well. We took turns holding you and it was after the fifth night had passed without incident, that I remarked to Gandalf how grateful I was that you were sleeping so soundly. He gave me a little mysterious smile and then told me that he had slipped a sleeping draught into your tea each night. Then he gave me a fierce look, the one that always made me want to sink into the ground and disappear, and warned me not to tell you because you wouldn’t like that you were being given medicine without your knowledge. I promised not to tell and he smiled again and patted me head and gave me extra of the medicine to stow away in my bag against the time he would not be there to give it.

I hoped that you wouldn’t need it after we returned home, that being surrounded by familiar places and sleeping in your own bed would make you feel safe enough. The horrors that had been inflicted upon you Merry and I were too afraid to guess. We had only to look into your eyes and Sam’s to know it had changed you utterly. But still I hoped, rather desperately, and I fear now, futilely, that the demons that had plagued you would not be able to cross the borders of the Shire and that it would remain the impregnable barrier against the evils of the world that it had always been. I know now it was an impossible hope, but still I longed to return to the innocence we had had, when we were blissfully ignorant of the troubles of the world beyond our beloved land and all you did, all we did, was smile and laugh and sing and dream of all the great adventures we would have. A time when there was no pain in your eyes and the light there was from the glow of love and joy you had within you and not from the fires of torment we all see now still burning, still trying to consume you. We all hoped that the fire of our love for you would consume that other flame before it could destroy you further. But it continued to rage inside you, leaving you ravaged. It was long after we returned home that I could still see the flames.

When we reached Rivendell, you could not wait to see Cousin Bilbo. You ran down the hall to his room, calling out to him. When we reached the same spot at a more sedate pace, you were sobbing hard in his arms, repeating over and over again how sorry you were and begging for forgiveness. Merry and I looked at each other - forgiveness for what? - then at Sam. He was staring at you. I don’t even think he was aware of the tears streaming down his cheeks. Bilbo held you just as tightly as you held him, murmuring comforts to you and telling you how much he loved you. That only made you cry all the harder. We knew some of your tears were from relief, even joy, at being reunited with our cousin, but as we silently watched and listened, we knew most stemmed from a pain Merry and I knew nothing about.

We were afraid that you were so upset you would need your sleeping draught and Sam had it all ready for you, but you had found something much better. You were already sound asleep when we came for you. Your bed was pushed up hard against Bilbo’s and you held his hand as you both slept. You were even smiling just the faintest bit. It was the most beautiful and peaceful I have seen you since you woke up after the eagles brought you and Sam back. We all smiled at that. We closed the door behind you, then cornered Sam and asked him what you had done that needed forgiving. He looked quite torn, not wishing to be disloyal to you for speaking about you behind your back. But we had seen how stricken he looked when he had heard you and we knew he knew exactly what you were talking about. But your Sam is not the most loyal of friends and confidants for nothing. He did not reveal any of your secrets.

“He fought long and valiantly against the Ring, but it did many terrible things to him that he thinks he needs forgiveness for,” was all he said.

“What can we do to help him, Sam?” Merry asked.

“Love him, Mr. Merry, Mr. Pippin,” he said softly. “Just keep loving him.”

And then he went back inside, slump shouldered under the burden of his grief and he sat by you, his face growing more tender as he stared long at you. We got nothing more out of him, but we realized we didn’t need to. We stood outside for a little bit more, stunned by the simplicity and profundity of his words.

We pushed our bed next to yours and slept easily that night. When we woke the next morning, you were still asleep, your hand still gently clasped in Bilbo’s and the peace was deeper set in your features, making you even more beautiful. Your smile was fuller. It was enough to nearly take our breaths away. We could not tear our eyes away. I glanced at Sam and he had such a tender, loving smile of his own for you as did Merry and I know my own face was beaming also. We were all nearly in tears, this time from the happiness of seeing you so. We could have stared at you forever like that. You woke then and saw all of us smiling at you and your smile grew even deeper and reached your eyes, setting them aglow. We all tucked that smile away in our hearts and memories where we could pull it at will, as we could the smiles from other years and your laugh and your voice, whether saying our names or singing or reading to us. I did not know when I would see you smile again, but I could always remember it.

You spent most of the rest of our time at that Elven haven with Cousin Bilbo and we certainly did not begrudge you that as we saw you happier than you had been since you woke. There were many more smiles and your laughter as well. You were even cajoled by our cousin into singing a small song in the Halls of Fire. What a magical night that was! Bilbo was glowing with just as much pride as we all were. You smiled at him especially tenderly as you finished. The fires still burned in you, but those days and nights, it was the fire of your love that burned brighter and hotter. We wished we could stay forever if that happy land and reunion was what was causing it.

But we left, still making our way homeward. You were withdrawn in the beginning. The life that had returned to you faded quickly and the balm Rivendell and Bilbo had been to your soul was not enough to heal you when you were outside its influence. You hadn’t needed the sleeping draught once there, but did each night after we left.

It began to rain lightly shortly before we got to the Ford of Bruinen, where the Riders had almost had you. You flinched a little each time a drop of water hit your cheek. Did the water now frighten you as much as the night? We all grieved for you a little more as you hid your head inside the deep hood of your Elven cloak. When we came to Ford itself, you suddenly stopped. You stared fixated at the waters, completely unable or unwilling to go forward. We all looked concerned at you and asked you what was wrong, but you stared straight ahead. I had the feeling you weren’t even there, not truly, but back a year before, hearing and seeing nothing but the terror of that day. I looked up at Gandalf and he nodded to me, seeing the question and concern in my eyes. He leaned over to you and gently took you into his arms. You curled tightly into his embrace, hiding your face in his cloak. It was on Shadowfax that you crossed the Ford, but you didn’t see it. We all heard you whimpering and saw how badly you trembled. Sam led your pony across. You didn’t see our tears for your continued pain and we were glad for that. Gandalf held you for a while longer after we crossed, speaking softly to you to calm you and finally you were able to raise your head and see that you had made it across the water and were that much closer to home. You revived after that and were able to sit on your own pony again. Sam remained closer to you than usual, glancing often over to you and we did as well, but you grew better the further we got from the water and we relaxed a little bit.

The next morning was October 6 and we couldn’t wake you. You were very pale and shaking from cold, clutching your shoulder and tossing your head back and forth, murmuring in a language that only Gandalf understood and he frowned mightily to hear it. He touched your forehead and spoke a few soft, but forceful, words and you calmed, but didn’t wake. Looking up into three fearful hobbit faces, he announced that we would be not be moving that day, that you were too ill. You tossed restlessly throughout that day, but never did wake. Sam sat fretfully by your side the whole time, holding your hand, brushing your curls, talking to you softly, but you didn’t respond to any of it. Your skin was cold and clammy when I touched it and you trembled badly even though we piled many blankets on top of you in the cooling air. I looked up worriedly at Gandalf and was more than a little alarmed when he looked concerned as well.

The next morning, you were awake before any of us and quite cross that we were in the same spot we had been the morning before.

“You were ill, dear,” Sam said. “Mr. Gandalf said we shouldn’t move.”

You stared at Sam for a long time, then slowly realized the date. We pushed on that day further than we would have normally. You had made it very clear that you wanted to continue on to help make up time you couldn’t even remember spending. Gandalf frowned, but this time let you have your way.

When we parted from him at the Shire’s borders, saying goodbye was difficult for all of us, but especially for you. You held him for a long time in a parting embrace and he hugged you back just as tightly, speaking softly to you. You seemed encouraged and strengthened by his words and he let you go with a smile that you faintly returned. He even smiled at me which I was happy to return. He smiled also at Merry but his largest one was saved for Sam. He thanked him for fulfilling his promise to you so well. Your humble gardener blushed and looked at his toes and muttered something about not needing to be thanked for something he would have done anyway.

When we turned to leave him, you kept looking back. Gandalf raised his hand in farewell and we all waved back, then we turned toward home. You were silent as you had been the whole trip back. We hoped being back in familiar woods would revive your spirits some. We all looked for signs of the tenseness leaving your body, for your eyes to lose their haunted pain, for the fire we all saw burning there to be quenched by the light that had always shone from you. You did seem to perk up a little as we got closer to Crickhollow. You turned your head this way and that as we deeper and deeper into the Shire. You raised your head to the sunlight and perked your ears to hear every sound. You trailed your fingers against passing branches and breathed in deep the fresh, scented air of the forests and meadows you so loved, that you probably wondered if you would ever see again. There was a faint smile on your face as you passed treasured landmarks and we saw the careful hope for healing that you nourished in your heart grow stronger. It has since taken blow upon blow, but you stubbornly hold onto it, having nothing else to hold on to except that and us. And we will never let you go, cousin.

We stopped briefly alongside the Road for a quick meal or two, but most were taken in the saddle, as we all anxious to get to Crickhollow and not have to spend another night outside. We hoped that being surrounded by familiar settings it would remind you that you were home and that you could stop being the Ring-bearer and just be a hobbit again. Just be our beloved cousin and friend and forget that anything evil had ever happened outside the stories we all loved to hear.

We were so tired when we reached the house just as the sun was setting. You were the first to enter, just wanting to be inside and Sam was right on your heels, taking your pack from you and setting your cloak on its peg near the door. Then he set to lighting the lamps and the fires and getting supper ready. You went straight to the chair closest to the fire, staring at the flames for a long time, trembling a little. Sam came in for a moment, gave you one glance, frowned, then went back to cooking. I went out to help Merry take care of the ponies.

You were still staring at the fire when we returned. Sam touched your shoulder gently and called you to dinner. You startled a bit at his touch and your eyes were far away for a moment, then focused on him and gave him a faint smile as you stood. Sam glanced at the fire with a queer look: pained and almost angrily as though he feared you had been so fixated on it for something other than light and warmth. I wondered again what unknown, unbearable horrors you were forced to endure and though it frightened me to imagine them, I think it frightened me more that I didn’t know, that you felt you had to keep it inside you and that was plainly impossible. It bled from your eyes every time any of us looked into them. Sam was being just as close as you and failing just as miserably to keep us from seeing that he was tormented as well, more for you than himself.

He sat at your side the entire meal, cutting your meat for you so you wouldn’t have to with your injured hand and setting everything within reach of your uninjured one. You thanked him quietly and ate everything he served you which pleased us all mightily. Conversation was sparse that evening. We retired almost right away after dinner, too tired for a smoke or even much of a bath. Since you were nearly dead on your feet, I did not think you would need a sleeping draught that night.

I was wrong.

I was returning from a trip to the privy when I nearly bumped into you. “Frodo?” I called softly.

You didn’t answer, just kept moving toward the door, clad only in your nightshirt.

I called you again, louder this time, but it still didn’t wake you, though it did the others. The door squeaked a bit when you opened it and you stepped out in the chill air. We followed you in the strong moonlight, but even close as we were, we still lost you.

When we found you again, you were sprawled down on your parent’s joint grave, your cheek against the cold stone, your arms out as though embracing it and those inside. “I’m so sorry,” you murmured over and over again. “Please. Please forgive me.” Terrible sobs came then. I so wanted to just come to you and hold you until it all went away, but instead we just stood there, a little frightened I think to wake you.

Our hearts broke to watch and listen to your agony. We all had tears coming down our cheeks, Sam most of all. Always he suffered the most. When, cousin dear, will you find peace? If you cannot even in the Shire, where can you? I cannot bear that you never will.

But as we watched that night, a peace of sorts did come to you as you laid out on that grave. You stopped crying, your voice trailed off then still and you were able to sleep again. We stood there for a long time shivering in the cold air, for we were dressed no better than you, but we couldn’t tear ourselves away. The moonlight struck your face and we saw the peace grow there that we had so hoped for. We knew we should get you home so you wouldn’t catch a cold or worse from the chill air, but none of us could bear to move you and disturb that peace. At last, Sam left and returned with a thick blanket and gently placed it over you, smoothed your curls and kissed your head. “Sleep well, dear,” he murmured, then he drew another blanket around himself and sat down on the ground beside you. Merry and I both returned with blankets as well and we all kept vigil over you until the dawn, then we crept away, Sam last of all, when you rose, still asleep, and sought your bed out once more. I don’t think you were even aware you had been out, but you have been out every night for the last three, visiting that grave.

We never spoke of it in the morning when you would rise and come for a late second breakfast. That came to be our favorite part of the day, when we would get a first look at you. Your eyes were clearer, your light a little brighter, your soul less turbulently tossed. You always had a smile for us and appreciation for Sam’s efforts to make a breakfast so appetizing and filling.

On the fourth day, you said you wanted to go back to Bag End. We had no idea in what condition we would find it since we had left it a year before and Sam feared for that, for what it might do to you to see it in poor condition.

We left that morning after elevenses. Leaving so late, we knew we would be spending some time after dark. “We can stop at the Green Dragon for a late supper if we hurry,” you said.

You set a brisk pace atop Strider to make sure we did. We had a time keeping up with you, but we were close enough to sometimes hear you laugh from the sheer exhilaration of the fast run. “Come on, you slowpokes!” you called back. Our hearts could have leapt from our chests with the joy that filled us then that you were smiling and teasing us. We passed a few on the road that gave us strange looks, these four travelers who had suddenly gone missing and now reappearing and riding as though death itself was pursuing us. We nodded and smiled to those stunned few, but didn’t stop. In all that bright sunshine, it was easy to forget that death had truly pursued us in the outside world and even a year before in the Shire itself.

You were flushed with exertion by the time we reached the inn just as the sun was setting. You took Strider by the reins and guided him to the stable and rubbed him down yourself, patting him and speaking to him in Sindarin or so I assume it was. I couldn’t understand a word of it, but I think Sam did who stood next to you, rubbing down Bill and murmuring some of the same words. You fed Strider and Sam made sure Bill had enough and only then did you leave for the common room. It was full dark by then and you hesitated a little before exiting the stable. Then Sam squeezed your hand and you smiled faintly and squeezed back before letting go. You visibly gathered your courage and stepped out into the night. You walked quickly, your eyes totally focused on the warm light streaming from the windows. Merry came to you then and said that a table had been secured. You smiled and thanked him and then we all sat down. There were whispers all around us at our sudden reappearance. Rosie Cotton seemed especially glad. She couldn’t keep her eyes off Sam and Sam was very nervously aware of that. He barely looked up from his ale and mushroom pie the entire time. To put him out of his misery, I thought we would leave, but you announced that you wanted to spend the night instead of making the short distance to the Hill. It was brought home to us one more how much the darkness frightened you that you didn’t even want to travel that small bit.

Merry and I slept on either side of you and Sam slept near the door, pulling a mattress and blanket from the second bed there. We thought that would keep you from leaving if you decided to sleep walk again.

It didn’t. When we woke in the morning you were gone. That gave us a bit of a fright, but Sam figured it out a moment before Merry and I did.

“He’s gone home, I’m betting,” he said and we set out. We found you curled around yourself in the garden at Bag End. Sam went down to Number 3 and got the extra set of keys his Gaffer was keeping. He was hard put to get away from his excited family welcoming him back at last, but he came back and very gently brought you into his arms and into your home for the first time in a year. The place smelled a bit musky from not being open in all that time, but still it smelled wonderful. Sam carried you into your bedroom and laid you down carefully. What a marvelous treat awaited you, to wake in your bed! He smiled as you slept on and then went to open up the windows and air out the place.

At first, I think it did help you to be back among so many familiar things, to be able to sleep in your own bed, to be surrounded by your books and the woods and meadows you loved so much. Merry and I decided to stay for a while to make sure you were really going to be all right. Sam all but moved in to make sure you were taken care of properly. You were grateful for our company, I know you were, but you remained alone much of the time too, working on the book you promised Bilbo. At all hours of the day we would hear you scribbling, but you never showed us any of it and kept it in a locked box when you weren’t writing. Sam would sometimes place himself in the room, dusting or organizing, being the unobtrusive servant he had always been, always knowing just when you most needed him near, even perhaps better than you knew yourself. You were always calmer when he was there and got the most work done then. Others days he let you be, but never was far away and neither were we.

Sometimes when Sam came in and softly announced that supper was ready, you’d look up with haunted eyes. He’d come and brush at your curls as though the cobwebs of your memories were visible things that had to be pushed away. The looks you gave each other were close to what Merry and I had seen in Minas Tirith, such utter love in both your eyes and in yours, an almost childlike trust and hope that with Sam near, all things could be made well. We were so glad he had been able to be there for you when we couldn’t be. He always insisted that you come away for luncheon and supper. He would have preferred you come away for all the meals, but you had insisted that you could take some of your meals in the study and he had against his better judgement given in. One thing he didn’t give in on was that he wouldn’t allow you to write past supper. When he first announced that you opened your mouth to protest, but shut it again seeing the set of Sam’s face. We could tell you were upset though for you wanted to write everything out as fast as you could, as though having it drained out on paper, it would be drained from inside you. But Sam said having a little space between the memories and the time you went to sleep would help and you did not argue. Not that it would have made him change his mind, if you had. If you could be terribly stubborn at times, so could he. So each evening either you or he locked away the papers for the evening, but in the morning, we’d hear you writing furiously once more. It did help a little to get it out on paper I think. You weren’t walking in your sleep so much or having quite so many nightmares and we relaxed our guard just a bit.

But the worst of your demons couldn’t be fought into submission just by writing them down. You quit early one day and that night, the agony that couldn’t be written about, came out in another way. I was woken by a noise in the parlor. It was you, of course, but this time you had Sting in your hand from where it had been hung on the wall in the study. I called out to you softly. You turned on me, glaze-eyed and with a cry, rushed at me. I felt the prick of the blade against my throat. I was too shocked and frightened to give out anything but a half-choked squeak, but your cry had roused Sam and Merry and they came running.

In the glow of the night lamp Sam carried, he was nearly deathly white. I could tell he was remembering something that had happened before. Merry was just as pale. He moved a couple steps toward us, but Sam put out his arm to stop him. He handed Merry the lamp and then very gently wrapped his fingers around yours and pulled Sting slowly away from my throat. His hand was shaking but not as much as you were. Your eyes stared out at what horrors I didn’t even want to imagine as Merry pulled me away from you. Sam carefully pried your fingers from the hilt of the blade and set the weapon down. You stumbled slightly as Sam guided you back to your room. He was shaking worse all the time as he put you back in bed. He brought up the covers to your chin and kissed your forehead. His voice trembled when he told you that he loved you, the same thing we told you every night. Mine was shaking too when I kissed your brow and told you the same. How could I not love you? I have loved you all my life. I’m not about to stop now.

But Merry held back. I looked at him and was hard put to figure who looked the most shaken - him or Sam. I was shaking too and probably looked a fright, but it seemed unreal that you would attack me or anyone you loved. I still was having trouble believing it had actually happened. Merry looked angry as well as frightened and that scared me just as much as you had, I think. Maybe even more. I had so rarely seen our Merry frightened of anything.

“He didn’t mean it, Mr. Pippin,” Sam told me as we left the room. His eyes and voice were filled with such haunted pain, my heart broke as much for that as it broke for you.

Merry took Sam tightly by the arm and rather forcibly pulled him into the kitchen when he steered Sam into a seat. Merry began pacing, nervously running his hand through his curls. I sat down near Sam and we watched that pacing silently. I wished I could calm our dear one down, but he was in such a state I knew I would have to let him work it out himself. I noticed that my hands were shaking where I had placed them on the table so brought them to be in my lap instead. Poor Merry didn’t need any more worries.

He suddenly turned on Sam. His voice was low but as angry as I have ever heard it. “I would very much like to know exactly why Frodo just had a sword at his own, at my cousin’s throat.”

Sam took a moment to respond. I think he was still struggling with his own shock and the idea that if he said anything about you that you weren’t aware of that it would be a betrayal of you. But I was almost smiling because I could hear in our dear Merry’s voice, his fear and his love also.

“I need, we need, to understand, Sam.”

Merry resumed his pacing when Sam didn’t answer right away, then your faithful gardener took a deep breath and let it out slowly before he said quietly, “He was relieving something that happened on the way to Mordor.”

His voice was so haunted that Merry stopped dead and both of us realized once more that so much happened to you two that we still didn’t know about. “You mean he attacked someone else like that?”

“Me,” Sam said after another long pause, not looking at us, just staring down at the table. Our mouths dropped open in shock, but I think he was shaking worse than any of us.

You?!” Merry and I cried in unison.

“It wasn’t really him,” Sam said, in an exhausted voice, still staring down at the table. “It was the Ring. It twisted him, exhausted him, punished him, tore him apart and I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t do anything but watch it happen.”

Sam broke down then and began to cry. Merry’s anger had already drained out of him. He came over and sat down next to Sam and took him into his arms. I don’t think Sam quite knew what to do then, but he sagged against our cousin and just sobbed.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” Merry said as he rocked him gently and stroked his curls as he had so often done for me whenever I had been frightened by something, as you had done for both of us. “I didn’t know. It terrifies me to think of all you two went through, but Pip and I would like to know at some point. If it helps to talk about it, we are ready at any time.”

Sam raised his head and let go of Merry. He sniffled and wiped at his tears. “Thank you, Mr. Merry, but I’d like to have Mr. Frodo here when we do that.”

“I understand.”

“Don’t blame yourself for anything that happened,” I said with a squeeze of his hand. “You did your best. We know you did and Frodo knows it too.”

Sam’s fingers curled around mine for a moment before he let go. “Thank you, Mr. Pippin, but I don’t know if I really did anything. I pushed him even harder than he pushed himself, as though if I got us to the fire quick enough, there would still be something left of him when we returned, but I couldn’t stop anything that was happening to him inside. And it’s still happening.”

I gripped his arm. “Sam, you did your best. You saved him. He loves you more than anything in the world. You’ve seen that and we’ve seen how much you love him. That is the most powerful thing in the world. No Ring can destroy it as hard as it may have tried. We just need to give him time to get through all the horrible things that happened to him. We will do whatever we can to help and to help you, too, Sam. This has been a terrible time for all of us, but especially the two of you.”

I saw out of the corner of my eye Merry looking at me with pride and a soft smile.

Sam took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Thank you, Mr. Pippin,” he said. “I appreciate that.”

He got up, exhausted and defeated looking, then squared his shoulders and left the room. He picked up Sting and wrapped it in a thick blanket and put it at the bottom of a locked trunk that he kept in his room, then he returned to you. He sat down on the chair next to your bed and took your hand. I would have stayed too, but Merry was still too frightened and kept me away.

We didn’t say anything about it the next morning. When you came into the study, you stared for a long time at the blank spot on the wall where Sting had hung as though trying to figure out what was missing, but then you turned away and returned to your writing. You never inquired about it and I’m sure you weren’t aware that Sam also hid all the knives from the kitchen drawer each night and returned them each morning before you even knew they were gone.

So that is what our routine has become. You are not left alone at night. Two of us are always with you, though it was a while before Merry let me near you again. One sleeps with you, one sits in the chair watching. It is for our own protection as well as yours. I don’t think you are even aware of our vigils because there are places you go at night, in your mind, that we cannot travel with you too as much as we want to. We can tell from the way he looks at you Sam goes with you to some of those places. We can also tell the moment he is left behind, and we can only watch and wait, as you struggle alone, twisting in your bed, murmuring words we cannot understand, but always anchored to one of us by a held hand at the least. But how much do you really feel that on the dark roads you continue to travel? We have tried our best, all of us, to keep you distracted and thinking more like a hobbit than a Ring-bearer who had carried the weight of the world around your neck. You deserve every happiness, you deserve peace and health and wholeness and every good thing. We’ve tried so hard to give you all these things all these months since we’ve been back, but watching you leave now out the door into the dark, we know it’s not working, is it, my beloved cousin?

The door closes behind you and you are gone, seeking something we cannot or do not know how to give you. You are like a pale ghost now, haunting familiar places that should be home to you, seeking peace and solace and rest, but I wonder now have you traveled so far, along such dark and dangerous paths, that you cannot find your way back? Your body resides here at Bag End, but your spirit does not.

Oh, please come back, cousin. Take our hands, let us guide you back.


 





        

        

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