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The Fellowship had arrived in Lothlorien tired, battered and full of grief. Gandalf had been lost. Who would lead the Fellowship now?
Aragorn sat by a pool, reflecting on the past weeks events. He was deep in thought...searching inside himself for the strength to go on.
Aragorn feared Gandalf's burden would fall on his shoulders. And how could he deny it? While Frodo carried the weight of the whole of Middle-Earth around his neck, could Aragorn really turn away from the Fellowship?
Nay, he could not. He knew this well.
But his fears ate at his heart. Aragorn knew that so much was at stake...the safety of Middle-Earth...the safety of his companions. How could Gandalf have ever asked Frodo to take the Ring in the first place? Aragorn knew that he could not have placed such a large burden on the little Hobbit's shoulders.
He knew, also, that he could not have asked the rest of the Fellowship to sacrifice their lives. But now that Gandalf was gone that was exactly what he had to do. Aragorn had faced many foes and dangers in all his long years. If it were just himself, he would go forth without hesitation. But now, there were others to think about. And yet, he knew that one hesitation would be all that it took to bring the quest to ruin. He did not think that he was up for this task...this leadership. And he wished Gandalf were there to take this burden from his shoulders.
/And now, what choice do I have? I cannot turn aside./
He knew that he must lead them. He must deliver Frodo safely to Mordor, if that was even a possibility. He must protect Frodo. And he, Aragorn, must direct the others to do so at any cost.
/Lead them to their deaths? Ask them to sacrifice themselves for the greater good, as Gandalf had done? Then so be it./
Boromir was restless. He had been so ever since they had arrived in Lothlorien. He was sitting now in the thicket of the trees...hiding. Hiding from the other companions. Hiding from his own heart.
The Lady had spoken to him. And what she had said made Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor...tremble. But Boromir couldn't deny what he knew to be true...that she had only been echoing the same words that he had been struggling to keep out of his mind.
He did not agree with the Council of Elrond. He did not agree that the only way was to destroy the Ring. Boromir believed, deep in his heart, that the Ring was the only thing that would save Gondor.
/If I could just be allowed to use it long enough to overthrow our enemies. I could save my city...my people. I could save my father./
And Boromir knew, that if given the chance...he would take the Ring. It was calling to him. Boromir knew that the Ring was tempting him...and he feared that he would not be able to withstand the temptation.
But Boromir had not come on this quest as a Man of Gondor. He knew that he was a member of the Fellowship. That here, on this journey, he was no longer Boromir son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. He was just Boromir, protector of The Ringbearer. And that in itself was a great honor.
And he could not deny that he wanted to protect Frodo, the RingBearer. All the little ones, in fact. They had grown so dear to him. Sam, with his little poems and verses that he recited always standing with his hands behind his back. The way Frodo looked when he was sound asleep...which seemed to be the only time the Hobbit found peace.
But mostly, Merry and Pippin. The two Hobbits made him smile just by looking his way. They always sat close and whispered and giggled, as if they had some special secret of their very own. The way they would tell stories, one starting a sentence and the other finishing. Their 'lessons', as Boromir referred to the times when he would instruct the two Hobbits in swordplay and defense. And that one time that Boromir had accidentally nicked Pippin...he had felt so bad. But his 'little ones' quickly brought him to the ground, laughter filling the air.
Boromir tried to push any thoughts of the Ring out of his mind. He wanted so much to keep his 'little ones' safe. He knew that his desire to protect them out distanced any other desires he may have. But for how long?
/Well, I shall fight it. And I shall protect the Halflings. They are so small and innocent. And I shall not fail them at least, even if I fail my own people...and my father./
Merry looked over to Pippin. He was lying on the bed they had been sharing together, in the chamber set up for the whole of the Fellowship. It wasn't near time for bed, although it was closing in on dinnertime. But Pippin was laying on his back, just staring up, a vacant look across his face.
It had been two days now, since they had arrived in the city of the trees. It was beautiful here. The sun seemed to always shine. The Elves seemed to always sing.
There was always plenty of food. /Which is most important to a Hobbit,/ Merry thought.
Everything was at peace, as if time had stopped moving here and there was no shadow growing. There was no danger here...except perhaps the danger of dying from joy.
How could anything be wrong in such a place as this? With the Lady so close at hand?
But something was wrong. Merry knew it. Something was wrong with Pippin. He hadn't been sleeping. Pippin had tried his hardest to fool Merry, but the Brandybuck knew his cousin far too well.
Merry had learned all of Pippin's tricks way back when they were just little Hobbit children playing together in the Shire. Pippin was well known for his practical jokes. Merry had learned never to eat or drink anything that Pippin had made himself. There was usually something 'unnatural' in the young Took's concoctions.
Or when Pippin was trying to hide a secret from Merry. Usually when Merry would find his younger cousin sleeping under a tree.
"I'm camping out," Pippin would tell him.
But he wasn't camping out...he was just afraid to go home. Merry knew this, but let Pippin keep his pride and went along with the charade.
Now, Pippin was doing it again. The first night in Lothlorien the two Hobbits had lay snuggled up together, as had become their routine. But sometime in the middle of night, Merry had awakened and realized Pippin was gone.
The next night, Merry had paid close attention to his cousin. He noticed that Pippin would pretend to fall asleep. Then, thinking he had fooled Merry, the young Hobbit would sneak off in the middle of the night.
Merry wanted to help Pippin...but he did not know how. He wanted to comfort Pippin...but his own grief was too overwhelming. So he let Pippin continue his charade and pretend that everything was okay.
But he knew.
The look on Pippin's face, as he lay staring up at the ceiling, troubled Merry. He knew that look. He'd seen it on Pippin before. When Pippin had gone and gotten into trouble with his father. Merry never asked him about the black-and-blue marks or the welts on his back. He'd just take Pippin into his arms and hold him while the younger Hobbit cried. And sometimes, the worst times, Pippin wouldn't even cry. Those times had broke poor Merry's heart worse than all the rest. And now, here it was happening all over again.
Perhaps someone had reprimanded Pippin. What happened with Gandalf hadn't really been Pippin's fault, but Merry wasn't so sure that everybody saw it that way. Aragorn has been unusually quite since the mines. He had begun quiet little talks with Frodo and Sam...leaving the rest of them out. In the beginning, when it had just been the four Hobbits and Aragorn, they had been included on the decision making. And, it seemed to Merry, that Aragorn had not said two words to Pippin since they had left the mines.
Then there was Boromir. He had grown quiet and distant. Boromir was the one that Merry and Pippin had grown the closest too. He was their hero...their role model...their friend. But now, he didn't want to give them lessons. He didn't ask them anymore to tell stories of the Shire. In fact, he barely spoke to them. And he seemed dark and sullen. Merry thought that at least Boromir would have stood beside his cousin.
Merry sighed. He knew that what happened in the mines was not Pippin's fault. Merry had tried to tell Pippin this, but Pippin had turned away from him and refused to listen. So Merry had let it go.
/Oh, my poor little Took. I should not have let you come on such a quest as this. It has been too much for your fragile self. Despite what they all think, you are not half as reckless as all that. If only they could know the tender gentle Hobbit that I know and love. But, perhaps no one has reprimanded you after all. For I haven't let you out of my sight since we left the Mines. You didn't seem well to me even then. No, I don't suppose anyone could have without my knowing about it. It is most likely guilt brought on by your own heart. And it is so needless./
"He doesn't even eat."
Merry hadn't noticed Legolas sitting there by him; he had been so wrapped in his own thoughts. "He eats. I see him eat."
"Nay, he has fooled you then."
"Impossible. I know him too well."
"Legolas is right. He does not eat. I've been watching him." Boromir had been hidden in the shadow of the corner...in fact, watching Pippin.
"You've been watching him?" Merry asked, trying to conceal the twinge of jealousy he felt stir inside. /This is not the time for such things, Meriadoc. Think of poor Pip./
Boromir smiled at the note of jealously in Merry's voice. "Relax, little one. I have just decided to keep an extra eye on you all, and Peregrin Took seems to need more than one extra eye."
"You know it's bad when a Hobbit won't eat," Gimli growled from the doorway. "But I don't suppose you should say much, Boromir. You don't eat either."
Boromir dropped his head. It was true, he did not. He was too restless here, with the Lady so close and knowing his true heartt.
/I don't believe I shall have the will for eating while I am here. What if the Lady were to tell Aragorn what she perceived of my heart...that I do not believe in the purpose of this quest. If only I could help little Pippin in his distress. Then at least, I would be of some good to the Fellowship./
Boromir looked around at his companions, who were deep in their own thoughts. They sat in silence, all watching Pippin. He still lay on the bed, apparently having taken no notice of their conversation.
Aragorn had asked Frodo to accompany him on a walk. It was rather close to dinnertime and Frodo had agreed to the walk, only after a promise that they would not be late for dinner.
Now they sat in a glade in the woods of Lothlorien, the mallorn trees rising up all around them and the warm sun streaming in through the overhanging branches.
Sam sat back behind them a bit, but still close enough that he could lean forward and grasp Frodo's hand.
/Sometimes Mr. Frodo needs that...to be reassured that he is not alone./
But Sam remained quiet, having sensed that his master needed some time to discuss matters with Aragorn, alone. However, it didn't stop him from listening in.
"You may admit that you are afraid, Aragorn. I would think you daft if you said that you were not."
"You should not be burdened," the Ranger told him.
"But I already am. I would like to know that we are all in the same boat together, so to speak," Frodo replied.
"You do not know this already?"
Sam noticed his master shift uncomfortably and drop his head. "I wonder...at times," Frodo said, quietly. "After all, in the end, it will just be me, you know."
/And me, Mr. Frodo./ Sam thought.
The Ranger looked thoughtful. "Perhaps not. And anyway, we shall all stick together to the end, at least."
"Even after death?" Frodo asked him, his blue eyes sparkling with newly formed tears.
"I should like to think so."
Frodo reached his hand out behind himself...and grabbed at Sam. He relaxed a bit when he felt Sam take his hand. "I am worried about Pippin," he sighed.
"As am I," Aragorn nodded. "But I do not know what to say to him."
"That it was not his fault."
"Do you think that anyone has told him otherwise?"
"No, I don't suppose they could have. They would have to get through Merry first." Frodo smiled as the image of Merry jumping on Boromir's back or nailing Legolas right where it hurts the most, crossed his mind.
"Why do you smile, Frodo?" Aragorn asked, looking puzzled.
"Just picturing it, is all."
They sat in silence for a moment. Frodo tried to decide if he should tell the Ranger what the Lady had said to him in his head.
His face must have looked troubled, for suddenly Frodo felt a rough but soft hand upon his cheek. "What are you thinking that makes your face look so grave?"
Frodo instinctively leaned into the touch. "The Lady," he whispered so quiet that Sam could scarcely hear, "she told me that the Fellowship is breaking."
Aragorn moved his hand away from Frodo's face and Frodo immediately missed the touch. Aragorn replaced it with an arm around Frodo's shoulders. He pulled the Hobbit into his embrace and Frodo leaned his head against the Man's chest. He noted the musky scent and the warmth one would not expect from a Ranger.
"Yes, but she also said that hope remains while the Fellowship stays true," Aragorn reminded him.
Frodo shook a little, despite the warmth. Aragorn pulled him closer. "Yes, while they remain true. But, I do not know if they will...if they can," Frodo added quietly.
"I will," Aragorn told him.
"I wish to believe you, Aragorn...but I am afraid that I cannot."
Aragorn seemed to be watching them all during dinner. He was unusually quiet, which did not go unnoticed by Legolas.
Legolas had tried to stay away from the Fellowship since he had arrived in Lothlorien. They reminded him of the quest, of the doom...of Gandalf. He had joined them for meals only. That is how he had noticed Pippin. The young Hobbit was troubling his heart. So that afternoon he had sat in their bedchamber and watched him. That had troubled Legolas more.
And then he realized, despite the shadow he saw about Pippin, that he felt better than he had in many days. He felt lighter than he had since they had entered the Mines. It had done his heart no good, being in those mines...the darkness...the enclosed space. And the feeling inside that told him trouble was close at hand. He would not have chosen to enter the mines. If Frodo had not made the decision...he would not have gone. But the Ringbearer had made the final call and Legolas had followed.
Now, he wished he had spoken up...said something. He wished he had told of the foreboding he felt inside. /Perhaps, I could have saved Gandalf. And, now that he is gone, I feel a heavy weight on my heart. I believe this quest is futile and that without Gandalf...there really is no hope, after all./
And yet, sitting there in that room...the weight seemed to lift. He vaguely remembered a time when he felt like this. It had been before the shadow had fallen on Mirkwood. So long ago, it seemed to him. Legolas remembered when his mother had called him 'free spirit'. There had been a time when he had felt like a free spirit.
/But what is causing this feeling now?/ he wondered.
And then he knew. It was them. Just being in the room with his companions, all of them contemplating how to help Pippin. They were all worried. They all wanted to look after him. They all wanted to look after each other.
/Going into the mines had been an ill choice. But there may be something to gain from it, yet./
If this was to bring them closer, make them realize how much they needed each other...perhaps Gandalf's death would not be completely in vain. Perhaps.
But at the moment, Legolas was more interested in watching Aragorn.
/He is up to something. I can tell. He has that mischievous look in his eyes./
Legolas remembered that look from many years ago, when he first had the pleasure of meeting the Ranger. The day that they had crossed paths just outside of Mirkwood, Aragorn had seemed innocent enough. But Legolas should have recognized the look in the Man's eyes as trouble.
"Nothing stands in my way when I want something," Aragorn had told the Elf.
As it turned out, the Ranger had wanted Legolas.
/He was up to something then...and he's up to something now. But what?/
Legolas watched for any signs that might help shed some light onto the complexity that made up the Ranger.
/Although,/ the Elf smiled to himself, /there are other reasons to watch Aragorn. I suppose I could do both at once./
After dinner, Aragorn informed the Fellowship that he wished for them all to take council together. He did not say what it was concerning...and that left everyone wondering.
Boromir had excused himself to wash up a bit first. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest. He knew that they were not leaving yet, so why would Aragorn feel the need of council.
/Surely, we are entitled to a few days rest?/ he thought.
Sensing that Aragorn felt this an urgent matter, Boromir feared that the Lady had told all she had seen in his heart. /But surely she would not. If given the chance to prove myself, I shall. She does not seem so hasty to me. But then what could this all be about?/
He finished washing and went to join the others...fearful of what was to come next.
Once they were all together, Aragorn began leading them into the thick of trees.
Gimli followed at the rear...his mind whirling with possibilities of what the Ranger could be planning. He feared that they were to be going again.
/Why I have just discovered the beauty of the elves. No, that is not true. I discovered it in Rivendell...when I first laid eyes upon the Prince of Mirkwood. But still, we have only just arrived and Master Took is not well. He can't go on just yet...and surely Aragorn would not suggest that we leave him behind. It would break the poor lad./
Gimli felt his heart ache, as he looked around at this new land he had come to love in just a few short days.
/And, I fear, that going on again so soon, shall break me as well./
Aragorn had led them to the same clearing where he had sat earlier with Frodo and Sam. He felt that this needed to be done outside, under trees, under the sky.
/If we are to open ourselves up to each other...we should do so in the open for the Valar to see./
There was something about the air in Lothlorien. It seemed to lighten one's heart. It was a healing place.
/And Pippin could use some healing...also a bit of fresh air. It seems all he does is lay around on his bed, though I don't think he is ever sleeping./
Frodo liked this clearing. It had, to Frodo, seemed more peaceful than anywhere else in the whole of the city. Perhaps that was because he had been cradled in Aragorn's embrace at the time, but still peaceful, nonetheless.
He wondered if any of this would help Pippin. /I wonder if it really is guilt that eats at his heart,/ he thought.
/And is the Fellowship truly ready for what is to come here this evening? If someone is to hesitate in their answer, what shall that mean for the rest of us?/
Aragorn instructed them to sit in a circle so that they would all be facing one another. Frodo sat between Sam and Aragorn. Legolas sat on the other side of the Ranger, with Gimli next to him. Merry and Pippin sat close together. Merry had taken Pippin's hand and was absently stroking his thumb across the back of it. Pippin did not respond to the touch, but he did not pull away either.
Boromir was the last to sit, although his legs felt weak. /As if they are not my own. For if I had control of them, I would run far away from here. I do not wish to hear Aragorn's purpose in this council. I fear I know already what it is./
Boromir seated himself on the other side of Pippin, the urge to protect the Halfling growing ever stronger. /And, / he thought, /if they are about to oust me, I think the one who I would least like to be facing is Pippin./
Boromir did not know why, but he could not bear to look at Pippin in all his shame.
So there they sat, watching Aragorn, waiting for him to speak. They were all fearful of what was to come next...except Pippin, who thought nothing could be worse than what had already come to pass.
/Unless they try to leave me and they take my Merry away from me. I think I should die. But then I deserve to die./
At last, Aragorn spoke. "It is time for healing. And I think it is most urgent that we start with Master Took."
Pippin hadn't been paying attention until he heard his name. /So, they come to get rid of me,/ he thought. He squeezed Merry's hand tighter and Merry pulled him close, so that Pippin was practically sitting in his lap.
"Look at me, Pip," Aragorn said. But Pippin could not. "Peregrin Took, look at me!" Aragorn's tone was demanding but gentle. Pippin looked up. "It is not your fault...what happened...and nobody blames you."
"I do." Pippin knew not where he found his voice.
"You mustn't." Boromir placed a large hand on a small shoulder.
"It was my fault," he barely whispered.
"No, it wasn't," Gimli stated. "No one can say that it wouldn't have turned out just the same...or perhaps worse, and then none of us would be sitting right here, right now."
Pippin's head whipped up and he glared at Gimli. "Worse? How could it be worse?" he screeched. "I came to help Frodo with his burden and I have, in turn, been more of a burden than that blasted ring!"
"Don't speak of things you know nothing about." Frodo's tone was cold.
Pippin looked at his cousin. /He hates me./ Pippin could not bear the thought of Frodo hating him. Without warning, he burst into tears.
Merry hauled Pippin the rest of the way into his lap as the young Took buried his head in Merry's shoulder.
Frodo was up in an instant and across the circle. He knelt in front of his cousins. "Oh, dear Pippin, I did not mean to be so harsh. It's just that...well, you bring light to us all. You lift our spirits. And you should not compare yourself to...well, to that. You are the symbol of all that is good and pure and you are our hope." With that, Frodo grabbed Pippin's face and turned it towards him.
Pippin looked into Frodo's blue depths and saw that his cousin spoke the truth. "Then, you do not hate me?"
Frodo laughed. "You silly Took. I could never hate you." And Frodo leaned in close and planted a light kiss on Pippin's lips. Then he pulled back, smiled at Pippin and went back to his place by Sam.
Pippin felt a warmth inside himself. /Why on earth did he do that? And why am I so warm? I haven't been warm like this since...well, since we were in the Shire. Since my birthday, when I gave Merry his present. He liked it so much that he kissed me and my whole body felt warm inside. It seems I've been so cold lately, but perhaps that time has passed./
Pippin stayed in Merry's lap, but turned now so he was facing the rest of the Fellowship. "I am sorry...if I caused any of you much worry over me."
Merry kissed the top of Pippin's head. "All's forgiven now, Pip."
And Pippin looked at the rest of them...and knew it to be true.
To Be Continued...