Just Visiting by Elly Baggins

Summary: Pippin is healing at Cormallen, and a visit from his eldest cousin is more than welcome.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot

 Pippin was bored. Very bored. And it wasn't really surprising considering he'd spent the last couple of weeks in bed, recovering from fatal injuries. Merry wasn't here to entertain him; he had gone walking with Gimli and Legolas.

He sighed. He was expecting Aragorn soon to examine his injuries. He couldn't yet walk without aid, and the slow healing of the leg worried the King. But that didn't change the fact that he had nothing to do other than twiddle his thumbs. Once again he sighed.

And he was thirsty, he realized. The pitcher of water was on a table near the entrance to the tent, and the young hobbit was sure that if he just used his will power, he could make it. Cautiously he swung his legs over the side of the bed and put all his weight on the good leg. He winced in pain as the injured one touched the ground, but was determined to get to that water.

So far he was using the bed for support, but now he had come to the end and the table was still two or three metres away. Holding his breath and bracing himself for the pain that was to come.

It happened quickly. He had taken another step, without the support of the bed, and then pain had overwhelmed him. The next thing he knew, he was in Frodo's arms, being guided back to the bed.

"Frodo, where on Arda did you come from?" Pippin asked once his senses had returned and he was tucked safely in the warm covers.

"I wanted to see how you were doing, then suddenly you almost collapsed! What were you doing, out of bed without anyone here to help you, Pip? You could have been so badly hurt!" Frodo's tone wasn't quite angry, and Pippin caught a hint of what his cousin used to be, back in The Shire when he would use the same tone. Of course then it was only to warn him not to sneak cakes from the pantry. Pippin smiled as he remembered that Frodo would always end up assisting him with such a crime anyway, if Merry wasn't there to help.

"I just wanted a drink, Frodo. I'm sorry." Pippin meant it. He didn't want to give Frodo any more grief. He had too much to get over right now. Frodo immediately went to the table and poured him a glass. When Pippin had drank his fill he poured some for himself and drank deeply.

"I forgive you," he smiled. "How are you today?"

Pippin scowled. "Bored!" Then he brightened. "Better now you're here, though. Aragorn should be here soon. But, cousin, how are you?"

"I've been better, I must admit. And I would be worse without Sam," he laughed. "But let's not talk about dark things, dearest."

So they didn't. Instead they laughed at old memories, and their spirits brightened as they drew strength from one another's happiness. Soon Pippin was yawning, and Frodo couldn't deny that he was also getting tired.

Pippin shuffled over in the bed, and Frodo climbed under the covers, careful not to jar any of his little cousin's injuries. It wasn't long before Pippin was asleep leaning against Frodo. He smiled. "You've been so very brave, Pip, and I couldn't be more proud of you," he whispered into the pointed ear before falling asleep himself.

*****

Aragorn was on his way to examine Pippin. He had finally found the time to do so, although he was later than he should have been. The former ranger lifted up the tent flap, and stopped in his tracks when he saw the two hobbits sleeping so peacefully.

He smiled, and since he didn't have the heart to wake either one, he walked out, deciding the examination could probably wait for a few more hours. Aragorn was more than happy that Pippin seemed comfortable, and that Frodo's lips had been graced with a smile as he slept.