Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 2 |
| A Cool Welcome |
| Two more Women, demure in dark dresses and veils and wearing rather less jewelry than the Lady, waited quietly in the entrance hall and followed silently as Gandalf, Pippin and Idril left the house. They went back up the stairs to the narrow lane between the massive Hall and a line of tall buildings, also of white stone, decorated with fretted carvings, little statues and high windows inset with colored glass. A guard stood at one of the doors, near the end of the row, and opened it for them. It led to quite a grand sitting room with hangings of dull gold silk and a few pieces of splendid, over-sized furniture. A wide stair, with intricately carved balustrades of dark wood, led up to a big room lit by three open arches of stone looking out onto a north facing balcony. One Woman was tucking a brocaded counterpane into place on the big red curtained bed, and another was watching a Man in black and white clothes lay a fire in the stone hearth. "This will be your room, Master Peregrin, my Lord Mithrandir will have the great chamber above." the Lady told them. The Man finished his work and left. Idril glanced at the Women and they followed, then turned the full force of that feverish golden stare upon Pippin. "My father said you saw Boromir die. Tell me, tell me everything!" He looked at Gandalf for help but the Wizard was staring out the windows and wouldn't meet his eye. There was nothing to do but answer her as well as he could without giving away Frodo or the quest. "We were ambushed by Uruk Hai out of Isengard." Pippin began hesitantly. "My cousin Merry and I were seperated from the others, we were all scattered through the woods looking for - for one of our Company who'd wandered off, when they hit us. Merry and I ran but wherever we turned there were more Orcs, we couldn't get away from them." he began to shake at the memory and sat on the chest at the foot of the bed. The Lady knelt down beside him, those eyes of hers fixed on his face. "We were surrounded, trapped, when Boromir suddenly burst out of the forest to cut the Orcs down. He told us to run and we did, but the Uruks were everywhere. Boromir killed ten, twenty of them, and Merry and I did what we could to help, but there were always more. He blew his great horn for help, the others heard and started to fight their way to us, but they had hundreds of Orcs in their way. Maybe Boromir could have held out long enough for them to reach us if one of the Uruks hadn't had a bow." The vision of those thick black arrows thumping into Boromir's body burned before his eyes, more real than the room around him or the Woman listening so intently. "The first arrow made him stagger, but he recovered and cut down more Orcs, they couldn't get near him. Then the second hit him and he fell to his knees right in front of us." Pippin heard his voice quavering and felt tears streaming down his face. "Boromir *looked* at us, trying to tell us something - to run maybe - but we couldn't. I couldn't move, not even to throw the rock in my hand or draw my sword. Boromir was dying but I couldn't move! Neither could Merry. "He got back up - I don't know how - killed another Orc or maybe two, then the third arrow struck right between the others and he went down again. I knew, we both knew, he wouldn't be able to get up again. Merry screamed and drew his sword, I did too, we tried to get to Boromir but the Uruks just swept us up and carried us off - we couldn't stop them, we were too small - they ran away with us and left him there to die." Finally the sob he'd been trying to hold back all this time burst out of him. "It's all our fault! The Uruks wanted us, Hobbits that is, they weren't interested in the others. If we'd let ourselves be caught Boromir wouldn't have died!" The Lady Idril put her arms around him and from the sound of her voice she was crying too. "That's sheer nonsense, Peregrin Took! You think they would have risked leaving a warrior like Boromir alive to pursue them after he had killed so many of their kind? Orcs are not such fools!" She took his face between her hands and fixed him with wet golden eyes that were no longer either feverish or frightening. "Boromir's death is not your fault. You could not have saved him by surrendering yourselves. Nor would he have stood by and let you do any such thing." Pippin smiled damply at the thought. "That's true." "Boromir died for you and your Merry because he thought you were worth it." Idril continued intensely. "You can repay him by proving he was right." suddenly she smiled through her tears, and looked much younger and nicer than she had before. Prettier too. "Most of all you mustn't torture yourself with needless guilt. Boromir wouldn't like that at all. He'd want you to be happy." "I know you're right." Pippin told her, sobbed again. "But I miss him so!" Idril hugged him. "I know, so do I. But he would want and expect us to go on - and we must not disappoint him!" and then she began to cry too. Talking to Lady Idril made Pippin feel much better. He was still unhappy about Boromir but he no longer felt like he'd caused his death. Or guilty over forgetting about him and enjoying the Ent House and the food at Isengard and the Victory feast. "It was not that you'd forgotten him, but that you could not risk thinking about him or your grief until you were safe." she explained. "As for the rest, soldiers and adventurers must seize what plesures they can, when they can. Boromir would understand and approve." After she left he looked hesitantly at Gandalf, who smiled gently at him. "You have had a time haven't you?" And Pippin, for all he was trying to pull himself back together, burst into tears all over again. Gandalf crossed the room to sit on the chest beside him and put a comforting arm around him. "My poor Pippin. I would not have spoken so harshly in Meduseld had you not frightened me half to death." "I know," Pippin gulped, "I could have given away Frodo and the Ring." "And done yourself irreperable harm as well." the wizard answered grimly, then smiled reassuringly as Pippin looked up at him in alarm. "Fortunately the contact was brief. And Hobbits, especially those of Took blood, are made of tougher stuff than even the Wise deem." "I won't do it again." It was a vow - and not just about Seeing Stones either. He'd been very foolish indeed, he saw that now. He hadn't understood before but he did now. He was a member of the Company of the Ring, a sworn enemy of the Dark Lord. And while he wasn't much in himself he was close to some very powerful and important people; the White Wizard, the Returned King and the Ringbearer, which meant any foolish thing he did could have terrible consequences for all Middle Earth. He had to be careful - and he would be from now on. Which reminded him. "You're not angry with me then, Gandalf? I know you told me to be silent but he already knew Boromir was dead - and I didn't say anything about either Frodo or Aragorn." "No you didn't. Poor, Pippin! I hope it's a long time before you find yourself in such a tight corner again, caught between two such terrible old Men." Gandalf laughed, but sobered quickly. "Offering Denethor your service was a noble and generous act, I should not have spoiled it by treating you like a child." then he sighed. "The Lord Steward and I have never been friends, but now I distrust the strength of his will and the temper of his mind. Grief and anger I expected, and his hatred of Aragorn is no news either, but this apathy that grips him is most unlike the Denethor I know. Whatever else he may be he was always a fighter." looked seriously down at Pippin. "I would not willingly entrust anyone I love to his care as he is now." Warmed clear through by Gandalf's words Pippin cast his mind back to the hall and to Denethor. The wizard was right, there was more and worse there than simple grief, or even the rather frightening hate and anger he'd shown towards Aragorn. Something was very, very wrong with Denethor. "Something's been done to him." Pippin said slowly, thinking out loud. "He's hurt inside somehow, and he doesn't want to do anything but huddle in a corner and nurse his pain." Gandalf gave him a startled, almost respectful, look. "That's very perceptive of you, Pippin my lad. I do believe you've put your finger on it." looked thoughtful. "But how wounded, and by whom?" That Pippin couldn't answer. "Can't you help him, Gandalf." The wizard shook is head, grimly rueful. "No chance of it. Denethor would never let me close enough to help him - assuming I could. At least Idril will recover now, thanks to you, Pippin. The fever's broken and she will heal. But then she comes of a stubborn line that does not give in easily to despair - or let go of what is theirs. I wish I could say the same of Denethor." Pippin blinked. "But he's her father, don't they have the same family?" "Foster father." Gandalf corrected, smiled crookedly. "By blood she's closer kin to Aragorn than she is to the Stewards. The Hobbit blinked again. "You mean she's royalty too? But then why isn't she queen?" "Because the Gondorim don't have ruling queens - and her family is no longer accounted royal." the wizard answered, tone sharpening. "See here, Master Pippin, I have no time now to instruct you in the history and laws of Gondor but must be about other business." he stood. "Chiefly the gathering of news, Hurin touched but the surface. Where is Faramir? surely not still on the marches now he is heir!" Gandalf turned back at the door for a quick smile. "Get some sleep, Pippin, you've had three long days and two nights with little rest. But sleeping or waking stay here and don't go straying about!" |