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"Sam!" The voice was a welcome one, the warm Tuckborough lilt pulling Sam out of his reverie. "Fancy running into you here, Master Gamgee." "Aye, it's such a shock to find Samwise Gamgee puttering around the Bag End garden. I can see why you're in such a state, Master Pip," Sam said dryly, looking up from the lilies. He crooked an eyebrow questioningly, taking in the lad's rather beraggled appearance. "And why is the future Took and Thain here in Hobbiton - and so early in the morning? Last I heard, you were off to Diamond's folks to settle arrangements." "Should I even bother asking how you know that?" Pippin grumbled, settling on the ground with care. Sam's heart twisted slightly at Pippin's unusual exactness... and yet, it weren't so unusual, not nowadays. It was just that Sam hadn't quite adjusted to this new, wounded Pippin - which was passing strange truly, seeing that he'd only really known the old Pippin to say 'good-morning' to or conspire with, in any case. "Is there anything that the esteemed Master of Bag End doesn't know?" Sam couldn't help his flinch and Pippin immediately softened, shooting him a quiet expression of apology, though strangely enough, Pippin deftly managed to avoid meeting Sam's eyes. Aye, Pippin was certainly not himself, now Sam knew that for true - Pippin might have often been careless before the journeys, but he'd never been cruel, and no amount of pain and hardship could have changed that about him. "I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know why I said that." And Pippin's soft words caused another tightening twist in Sam's heart. Pippin sighed lightly, plucking a golden-hearted lily and twisting the stem about his fingers restlessly. Sam refrained from telling him to leave the plant in peace, because he could see that the lad - not a lad anymore, though, despite not yet being of age - he surely had something on his mind that was greater than a garden that would heal soon enough. "Something's happened, I'm guessing." Sam said, reaching over to still Pippin's hand. "And it's something you don't feel right talking to Merry about. With our Mr. Frodo gone, this is the closest you can get to speaking to him." Pippin let out a shaky breath, his hand twisting to hold onto Sam's. "I'm marrying Diamond Took, in but a few months' time." "Isn't that what you wanted?" The flower was crushed between their palms now, and Pippin still couldn't seem to meet Sam's eyes. Sam ran his gaze over Pippin consideringly - Pippin's feet were truly filthy, as though he'd been walking since the last rain; his breeches had a tear just under the knee, and Sam could see a grimy scrape, so Pippin had fallen sometime in his walk, fallen and not cared about cleaning up; more than that, his face was pale and drawn, his hair uncombed and with more than a few leaves in it. Oh, but Pippin was a right mess, just like the lad he wasn't. "It was," Pippin agreed, but there weren't a trace of happiness nor joy in his voice. "I want, Sam." "What is it that you want, Master Pippin?" Sam asked cautiously. Now Pippin looked at him, a hint of a smile showing. It was a right shock, finally seeing Pippin's eyes straight-on. They were bright with unshed tears and a heaping of anguish behind them. Sam squeezed Pippin's hand reassuringly, his heart hoping that he could help this one. "I want peace." Pippin looked down at their joined hands, his eyelashes catching the light of the morning sun. And Sam could feel his heart shudder to a near stop in his chest, because these words were ones that he'd heard before. Still, Master Pippin had the right to speak, and Sam had no right to do anything but be honored that he was the one being shared with. "I'm to be Thain, as you said, and I'll be tied to my land for a good long time. And... Sam? I want that. I want more responsibility than I can bear." Sam didn't try to say anything to Pippin, just kept on holding his hand tight. Pippin laughed, a shrill sound that chilled Sam's very bones. "Oh, Sam, I want to be able to put my sword up on the mantle and know that I'll only take it down for ceremony's sake. I want to know that the most I'll ever fear in life is a tumble down a hill or catching a chill in the rain. I want to be a Hobbit again." Now, Sam did dare to speak, his free hand reaching out to brush a leaf or two from Pippin's hair. "And what are you now?" "I wish I knew." Pippin's mouth turned, and this time he was the one to tighten his grip on Sam's hand. "I'm too big. Too different. Too changed. I want to be Pippin again, but none of my clothes from before fit." "I have the feeling that when you say 'clothes', you mean more than that," Sam ventured quietly. The touch of his hand in Pippin's hair seemed to be comforting, so Sam continued to pluck out leaves and stroke through the mess. "Merry's in love." As soon as the words were out, Pippin looked as if he wished them back. Was this what was eating the poor lad up so? "With that Estella Bolger?" Sam asked, just petting Pippin's hair now, the last of the leaves gone. Pippin slid his eyes shut and let go of Sam's hand. Then he just seemed to slid around, in an odd, slinky motion that twisted him about and put him right up against Sam. And all without letting Sam's hand leave his hair. Sam blinked a bit before continuing. "Master Pip, would that be why you're in such a hurry to get married?" Pippin shook his head, but it didn't feel like true denial so much as not wanting it to be real. "Sam... how much do you love Rosie?" Sam paused, taking the chance to move to a more comfortable position, with Pippin lying almost in his lap. Sam thought of his Rose, off with Elanor and Frodo-lad until the 'morrow, a smile appearing as he found the right words. "More than the flowers love the sun and rain, I'd reckon." Pippin sighed softly, a hand reaching 'round to clasp Sam's knee. Sam sunk his fingers back into Pippin's hair, as it seemed to relax the lad a bit. "Do you... Sam? How much do you love Frodo?" The world froze for a moment, crystal-sharp and just as brittle, and Sam almost forgot how to breathe. "More than life, Master Pip. More than the world entire." Sam took a breath, quick and sharp. "And I'd say that you already knew that." "Yes," Pippin breathed. "I shouldn't have... I'm just so tired of trying to be Pippin Took." "Well, that might be your problem," Sam said, carefully teasing out a tangle in Pippin's hair. "It might be time for you to be Peregrin Took. Because you're right, Master Pip - you aren't Pippin anymore, and you haven't been for a while. We..." Sam swallowed hard, making sure that he didn't pull on Pippin's curls. "When we left you, that was Pippin. But when we saw you again, you weren't. We didn't see when it changed, but it did. Sometime while we were gone, Pippin got burned away, I think, and you're Peregrin now. Whether or not you're ever called it." "That's what happened to Frodo," Pippin mused, his hand rubbing Sam's knee. Sam closed his eyes against the sudden well of pain. "He got burned away, and he didn't have anything solid enough to build on, after." "Aye," Sam agreed hoarsely. "What he had left couldn't be built on in this world." Sam licked his lips, trying to get out the taste of salt, only noticing then that he was crying. "But he always was too fine for us, don't you think, Master Pip?" Sam opened his eyes at a painful sob, surprised that it wasn't from himself, and he pulled Pippin up into his arms, holding him tight. After a few moments of feeling Pippin's grief wash through him, Sam gave in and let himself weep while Pippin tried to speak, too wracked with tears and sobs for any words to come through clearly. When they'd both cried themselves out, Sam pulled away and stood up, holding a hand down for Pippin. "If there's to be any more of that kind of talk, perhaps we should be going inside," he suggested, smiling ruefully down at Pippin. "We don't need to make a spectacle of ourselves in Mr. Frodo's garden." It wasn't until Pippin gave one last great sob that Sam realized what he'd said. He bit his lip, wishing he could take the words back, yet knowing that this wouldn't ever be other than Mr. Frodo's garden to him, not if he lived longer than Mr. Bilbo and the Old Took combined. Finally, Pippin met Sam's gaze and let himself be pulled to his feet. Once up, Pippin refused to release Sam's hand, just giving him a stubborn look and starting toward the door, pulling Sam behind him. When they reached the green door, Pippin turned to him with a near despairing look. "I'm not in love with Merry, you know. And I'm not a tween anymore." "Did I say you were either?" Sam asked, opening the door when it seemed as if Pippin would be satisfied standing outside it all day, just like a fool Took. "And you should get cleaned up before you go anywhere past the hall, mind. I'll go get you something else to wear and you just..." Sam shot Pippin a repressing look, hiding his smile at Pippin's forced-like innocence. Aye, that was more the Pippin he remembered. "Just stay put and wipe yourself off a bit." He dropped Pippin's hand, well, near prised it from his own, and headed toward the room that Pippin had always stayed in - it was much more respectable-looking now than it had been when Pippin had been a teen and a tween. And Sam knew that Pippin always left at least half of the clothes that he'd brought, and Pippin well knew that Sam had given up on sending them back. And perhaps that was part of why Pippin had come here. Sam took a deep breath to steady himself, and looked for something reasonable for Master Pippin to wear. It took longer than he'd thought it would, since as it turned out, Pippin had left only one set of breeches, and they were his oldest pair, the only set from before that Pippin had still fit into when they'd got back. Sam could clearly remember Pippin's loud complaints when he'd realized just how much clothing he'd have to replace. Odd that he'd left these here, considering. Maybe it was all of the piece with whatever was worrying him so. On his way back to the hall, Sam paused in front of Frodo's room, sighing when he saw muddy footsteps leading into it. Still, he should have expected as much. Peregrin Took had never learned the fine art of following directions. It was lucky for him that everyone was so willing to let him go his own way - though, on reflection, that was certainly part of why he'd gotten that way in the first place. Sighing again, Sam knocked lightly on the door. They could have whatever discussion Pippin needed to have in Mr. Frodo's room. Sam would just have to remember to clean it up right after, instead of waiting on Mersday. "Come in." Pippin's voice was muffled, and by more than just the door. With Sam's luck today, the mite had buried himself in Frodo's sheets, just as he always had when he was a lad and visiting his second-favorite cousin. "I weren't gone but ten minutes," Sam said as he opened the door. His heart trembled at the sight of just Pippin's curls, though Sam would never say such a thing to Master Pip, of course. There wasn't a chance in the world that the lad wouldn't take advantage - it was just the way he was. "It was too long," Pippin complained, pulling down the blankets enough for Sam to see leaf-green eyes still bright with tears and emotion. Aye, and he had to be curling himself up right tight to even fit under the covers like that. "How can the sheets still smell like him, Sam?" Sam cleared his throat, hoping that Pippin wouldn't notice the heat on his cheeks. He laid the clothes over Frodo's chair, paying close attention to straightening them out, and taking care not to look towards the bed. "Well, they get washed the same as they did when he lived here, after all." "Sam..." Pippin said, in what was a definite whine. Sam ventured a glance, and Pippin's face was visible now, and his eyes were focused on Sam, no longer as vulnerable-looking. Well, he supposed a little embarrassment would be worth getting Pippin out of the dismals. "It might be that when I wash Mr. Frodo's things, I add a touch of the oil he used to bathe with," Sam admitted, feeling the flush steal over his whole face now, with no way of hiding it. "You... you aren't the only one who finds comfort that way, Master Pip. And you aren't the only one with new clothes, as it were." "Master of Bag End," Pippin said softly, sitting up in Frodo's bed and biting his lip, and if he kept doing that so hard, he was like to bite right through it, and Samwise Gamgee would be one of the first to say he'd warned Pippin long ago. "I can't imagine that's ever a joy for you to hear." "It's the sort of thing that any hobbit would dream of," Sam said, the sharp tone more for himself than Pippin. "A beautiful smial with more room for children that most would dare to dream of, with a lovely and loving wife. I've all that any hobbit could need or want." "But we're all of us more than just hobbits now." Pippin slid out of the bed and padded over to where Sam was, putting his hand over Sam's, where Sam had been absently trying to pet Pippin's clothes into a tidiness they'd never been capable of. He met Sam's gaze, his eyes lighter now and wise, now fully the Peregrin that Sam said he was. "You reminded me of that yourself. We've seen places of such beauty that they shock the breath right out of you. We've seen creatures more deadly than any in tales we heard as bairns. We've met Kings... and helped destroy the most dangerous bit of jewelry in creation. Those are things that change a being, make them something other. You aren't Frodo's gardener any more, Sam, no matter how you might wish it. You are Samwise Gamgee, an influential citizen of the Shire, and the Master of Bag End. But you're more than that - you've been touched by death and grace and change." Pippin quirked his mouth, seemingly amused at his own words. "You can't keep flinching at the title, Sam. Frodo went willingly, went because he saw no other way to find his healing. He saw that you were the closest thing he had to an heir and acted accordingly. It's high time that you stopped thinking yourself unworthy of his legacy." Sam took a slow, deep breath, somehow finding peace in Pippin's eyes and in his... blessing. "Aye, you will be a very grand Thain, Master Pip. Mark my words." Pippin's face was calm now, like he'd found the key to something. Sam turned his hand over and Pippin smiled as he took Sam's hand in his. "I mean to be. That's why I'm marrying Diamond, you know. She'll make a wonderful wife and Mistress. I like her, Sam. She has a quick mind and she likes to hear me talk. She's even willing to ask questions when I've confused things, which most lasses never dare to. And she's a bonnie one - we'll have glorious children. I want at least one boy-child - so as to name him Faramir. You remember Faramir?" Sam nodded, but he'd noted that Pippin had only sounded passionate about the last. His words on Diamond had been everything pleasing, yet he'd sounded nothing but proper when speaking of the lass he planned on marrying. "You don't love Diamond, though, do you, lad?" As easily as that, Pippin's face fell. "It could come in time. It could." Sam twined his fingers with Pippin's, trying his best to sound as if he had the faintest idea of what he was talking about. "It could. And a love that grows over time is no bad thing. Even if you don't, it might not be so tragic. There's many a hobbit and wife who don't share love yet get along very well indeed. Perhaps they don't even miss it." "Do you believe that, Sam?" Sam's heart near-broke to see the confident Thain turn so quickly to a lost child. But everyone had these moments, times when they doubted themselves and everything they knew, and he was honored that Pippin felt near enough to him to be here, now, when he felt so out of sorts. And he couldn't help but answer Pippin as true as he knew how, though his answer might not make that sad look leave. "I don't know as I do, Pippin." Sam hesitated, unable to move his gaze from where it was, trapped with Pippin's. "I don't think that I could live such a life. If I didn't love my Rose, I wouldn't have married her, and that's flat. But just because such as that isn't for me doesn't mean that it can't be for you. But... begging your pardon, Master Pip, but I think that you're better than that. Better than a life that's lacking in the most important feeling a body can feel." Pippin's eyes did lighten up a touch at Sam's words, though he didn't rightly know how Pippin had been able to find much comfort in what Sam'd said. Encouraged by Pippin's reaction, Sam went on, trying get that light to shine brighter. "You're a fine hobbit, Peregrin Took. I ever tell you that?" Pippin shook his head softly at Sam's words, a small smile on his face. Sam pressed on, sparing a moment to wish Frodo here, with his delicate ease with words. "You've been a right comfort to me, since Mr. Frodo left. You've been a true friend and I've been meaning to thank you." "I'm almost certain that those should be my words," Pippin said with a fair attempt at a grin. "I... thank you, Sam. For listening. For caring." "And mayhap now we should get to the dangerous part," Sam suggested. He tugged Pippin back over to the bed, and sat down himself, only speaking once Pippin had settled, again with his head in Sam's lap, like he were naught but a babe, instead of the unnaturally tall post-tweenager that he was. "Why is it that you didn't feel right speaking to Merry about this? You know that he would listen and that he would care. He's done that much all your life." "Merry is in love," Pippin said again, as if that explained anything. "And so am I, Pip, but you still came to me." Sam let himself pet Pippin's hair again - the comfort would do them both some good. Pippin's hand was still warm and alive in Sam's other hand, and Sam let himself sink deep into those feelings. "But he let it change things," Pippin said, the words almost too soft to hear. And that did make sense. Pippin had had his favorite cousin at his beck and call since before he could speak - anything that changed that was a cause for major upset. More than that, it had to be making Master Pip doubt himself, wonder if perhaps Merry loved him the less for all his changes - which explained some of what had been said earlier. "He's never... courted a lass before." "Have you thought that perhaps he's had the same idea that you had? About wanting land and home and wife?" Sam asked, gently stroking Pippin's cheek before gliding his hand back into the Pippin's curls. Pippin shook his head, twisting 'round to his back and looking up at Sam with serious eyes. "But I chose Diamond because of her family and her personality and her beauty. Merry chose Estella because..." And here, Pippin's nose wrinkled in distaste. "Because 'she lights up the night, Pip', as he said to me not a week ago." "Would you wish him to wive where he had no love?" Sam asked. "No!" Pippin protested. Then he sighed and shook his head again, slowly. "I just... I wish I could understand, but I don't have time. I don't have time to fall in love." "Why would you say that, Master Pip?" Sam moved his hand back to Pippin's cheek, gently wiping away the tear tracks from earlier. "You're young. Don't you have all the time in the world?" "You know." Pippin's voice was near accusatory, but Sam took it in stride. He did know, he just had the feeling that Pippin needed to say it, so he just tried his best to look understanding, and waited for Pippin to say more. "You do. You know the feeling yourself, I'd wager. I... I need to hurry, Sam. I need to have an heir, because who can say how long any of us has to live? It's not just the sharp swords or the... fires of battle that kill - it's the weak spot you didn't see." Pippin's voice softened as he continued, the words sounding almost like something he'd practiced. Or mayhap, they were words that Pippin had been saying in his head since after the battles. "I can remember such pain, Sam. I was so certain that I would die. Die without seeing Merry or Frodo or you or Gandalf ever again. I'd long since understood that it was likely I would never see my family again, but I still hoped. Under that troll, trapped by pain and fear, I couldn't even hope anymore. All I could do was keep breathing, and each breath was torture, and foul, on top of that. I couldn't move anything, couldn't speak to scream. I felt so helpless. Oh, Sam, I felt so small." Pippin took a quavering breath, but didn't cry. Like as not, he'd already cried all he could about that horror. Sam pushed Pippin's hair off his forehead and tried to think of words to say to that. "Most of what happened with us is recorded in the Red Book, so I've no need to tell it again," Sam said, finally. "But what's there can't capture the feelings, Master Pip. Aye, I know what you mean, because I've felt it - the pain, the helplessness, that lost feeling. But... as it comes to it, perhaps I was blessed in much of the journey, for I was barely without Frodo. And just looking upon him, even in the terror, looking upon him was a comfort. In the end, I was sure that we would die there, but I'd always known that I would die with him." Sam said the next part softly, loud enough for Pippin to hear, but not loud enough to try tempting fate. "I still know that." Pippin sat up, turning to face Sam, Sam's hand falling to Pippin's shoulder. "You will," Pippin said, as if he could make it so. "And you'll tell him that we love him." "Aye," Sam agreed, getting up off the bed. "That I will." He touched Pippin's cheek again, and leaned forward to brush a soft kiss over Pip's forehead. "Now, you get yourself changed, and then you get some sleep. When you wake, I'll have something for you in the kitchen. You're welcome to stay as long as you like, Master Pip." "Thank you, Sam." Pippin smiled at him, the best of all things, truly, newly serious eyes married with a heartwarming smile. "My pleasure, Pippin," Sam said firmly. He shut the door behind himself as he left, and then headed to the pantry to make certain he had enough to board a hungry Took.
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