Chapter 14: Pearl Took
The four friends all shared a laugh, both at Pippin's comment and from the release their short talk had brought to them all. They spoke lightly of the food and drink they had been served while in Minas Tirith and the foods and drink they were most looking forward to when they returned home to The Shire. Eventually Frodo and Sam bid Pippin farewell for time being; Merry remained where he was, slouching in his chair with his feet up on Pippin's bed.
'I thought they would never leave,' Merry sighed.
Pippin looked startled. 'You wanted them to go?'
Merry said nothing at first, merely nodded his head ever so slightly as he stared at the wall opposite him. His cousin let him think while he sat up, tugged his pillows around until they comfortably supported his back, then he leaned back with his hands cradling the back of his head.
'We didn't talk about it much, talk about what we had been though, after we got away from the Orcs,' Merry murmured.
'No. But then again, it isn't quite what we hobbits do is it? Going on at length about the bad bits in life.'
'No.'
'And it's not as though there aren't bad bits to life back home. I mean, hobbits get hurt or ill. They die young or die slowly and in pain.'
Pippin looked over at Merry. His eyes were now closed and Pip almost wondered if he had fallen asleep. He waited to see if Merry would begin to snore.
'When did you first feel it, Pippin?'
The lad had jumped a bit when his cousin spoke, but he regained himself quickly. 'Feel what, Merry?'
'That there was going to be more . . . pain on the journey than we had ever imagined.'
That wasn't what Pippin had been expecting, but before he could give it much thought, Merry continued in the same quiet manner.
'All those years that we heard Bilbo's stories; nearly having to watch the Dwarves get eaten by Trolls. Gollum would have killed him if he could have. Wolves. Spiders.'
'Having to hide and steal food in Legolas' father's halls. Riding an old, wet slippery barrel,' Pippin put in.
'Yes. Facing Smaug. Being called a coward . . .' Merry paused, 'Facing the battle and waking up alone amongst the carnage.'
They both sat silent for a while then Pippin softly spoke. 'It all sounded so exciting and grand to hear it told . . . but it isn't quite the same when you're in it all yourself.' He thought more than said, 'It is and it isn't. I felt oddly eager to meet the foes before the Black Gate. Ready to make even a small dent in that huge army of Orcs.'
'I felt the same as we rode onto the Pelennor. Absolutely terrified, yet ready to do whatever I could. But, I'll put my question to you again, Pippin.' Merry sat upright, suddenly intense. 'When did you first feel it, Pippin? When did you know that terrible pain might await us all?'
The younger hobbit hung his head. 'When Gandalf fell,' was his quiet reply. 'I truly felt it was all my fault and I couldn't imagine us having any hope of the whole . . . thing succeeding without him.' Even more softly he added, 'I wasn't sure I could go on without him.'
'Not sooner?' Merry asked, some the intenseness leaving his voice. 'With all that happened before that, it didn't strike you sooner than that?'
Pippin shook his head.
'No. All the other times I was horribly frightened and most likely would have felt as though there was nothing awaiting us but terrible times, but each time just as I was about to lose heart, something would happen to rescue us or turn the tide, so to speak.'
He looked up, his usual sparkle in his eyes. 'But who ever would have thought of Gandalf coming back from being dead?'
A hint of a grin graced Merry's lips. 'True,' he said nodding slowly. 'That had to be just about the most unexpected thing that happened to us.'
'After he fell,' Pippin went on, the twinkle fading from his eyes, 'I no longer felt safe. Then Boromir being killed right in front of us. . .' He stopped, drew in a deep breath which he let out in a deep sigh. 'That just sealed it. Even after I knew Gandalf was alive, after he was killed falling in the abyss with the Balrog I knew anything could happen to any of us.'
'For me it was Weathertop.' Merry said, his voice suddenly distant sounding. 'I knew the Ringwraiths were after Frodo, but I just simply couldn't imagine him being hurt by anything. Well, not seriously hurt.' Merry stared at the wall again as he slipped back into a slouched position in his chair, as though all his strength was draining from him.
'I fell to the Black Breath in Bree, and then they struck Frodo down on Weathertop. I knew then that there would be no safety for any of us anywhere.'
Once more the cousins sat in silence, each with his own thoughts, remembering the feeling those incidents had brought to their hearts. How sure of themselves and others they had been to that point in their lives and how exposed they had felt afterwards.
'I wonder if that happens to Men or Elves or Dwarves?' Pippin asked no one in particular.
'I know it does to Men.'
The voice made both hobbits jump. Faramir stood in the doorway of Pippin's room, looking rather embarrassed.
'I must beg your pardons. I fear I've stood here longer than is polite, listening to your conversation.'
Pippin grinned. 'I think we can forgive your trespass.' He indicated the chair Frodo had earlier occupied at the foot of the bed. 'How much did you hear?'
'Most, I am thinking as I saw Frodo and Sam as they left your room. But to finish what I started to say, yes; Men too lose their innocence in much the same ways. Especially, for us here in Gondor, in the times Sauron was gaining strength. For me, it befell when I went as a new soldier to check on reports of Orc attacks near the Grey Woods.'
As the hobbits had before him, Faramir's eyes focused on something far from the room in which they sat as, in a quiet voice, he continued his tale.
'It is the burden of nobles that we are never merely soldiers, but enter into our military careers as officers. So there I was, Captain Faramir, all of twenty one years of age, leading my first command on what was our first mission that held much threat of danger. As is usually the case, I was not the eldest nor most experienced in the company merely the man of highest rank.'
His eyes closed as his thoughts traveled back, and he sighed deeply before going on.
'As we approached the farmstead that had been the place of the attack, my second in command - a man twenty years my senior and much experienced - signaled me to call a halt.'
'Might I suggest, Captain,' said he, for my ears only to hear, `that you let myself and two others of my choosing go in first.’
'I am not one of those captains that will order his men to go where he will not,' I replied, a bit hotly as I took offense at what I perceived as his implying I was weak. 'You and I will enter the dwelling and see what there is to see.'
Faramir looked at his friends with haunted eyes. 'As you said, tales rarely give a clear picture of the evil in the world. I had heard that the cruelty of Orcs knew no bounds, but at that moment I found it was true. And like all good story tellers I will not describe to you the horrors I saw in the kitchen of that humble farmhouse. Suffice it to say I vomited then swooned and my lieutenant had the honor of carrying my unconscious body out of the farmhouse. For months afterwards that sight stole my sleep from me, and even to this day it still, on occasion, will haunt my dreams.'
Silence filled the room for several minutes until Sir Peregrin Took brought himself back to the present with a quick shake of his head.
'Best to know that we aren't alone in having to pass through such things, but come! It won't do to dwell on the gloom for too long.' Pippin shook himself again then stared into Prince Faramir's eyes, his own twinkling with mischief. 'I know you had a message recently; what word have you had from Lady Éowyn?'
*****
In the main kitchen of the Citadel, Ingold, in control of himself since he had had a dose of the powder, had easily found out from one of the cook's servants which meals were those of King Elessar and Prince Faramir. With the explanation that he had orders to keep watch over their meals, he found it easy to add some of the opium to the soup of both the prince and the king.