CHAPTER 18

The Thain, the Master and the Mayor emerged from the tent to make their decision known to the envoys of Gondor and of Rohan.

“Targon and Éothain,” said the Thain, “we three have agreed that you and your companions have our permission to enter the Shire. We wish you to accompany us to Tuckborough, where we will call a gathering of the heads of the families. We will put before them King Elessar’s edict, as well as the matter of the reparations from Saruman that Rohan has proposed.

We shall not leave until the day after tomorrow, for we wish to send messages to the families, and to warn folk of your coming. We do not wish our people to see you as another invasion of Big Folk, or to be fearful of you.

Therefore, you must all travel with us in order to avoid any misunderstandings.”

Targon and Éothain nodded solemnly. “It shall be as you say, Thain Paladin.”

Saradoc chose ten local hobbits, among them the Banks brothers, to ride through the Shire announcing the arrival of the King’s Men, and to bear the message that the heads of the families would meet in conclave at Tuckborough in ten days time.

Targon had thought to stay Bergil this time, fearing the lad would wear out his welcome, but Pippin had pleaded the boy’s case so sweetly, with much widening of his green eyes, and even Master Brandybuck saying that his wife would sorely miss the lad, that the captain of the Gondorians relented.

And so one last time the little cavalcade of hobbits and their guests made its way south.

When they approached Crickhollow, Paladin asked Saradoc and Bergil to ride on ahead.

“I’ll join you at Brandy Hall later. I want to take a little time to visit my son.”

Saradoc eyed his brother-in-law keenly. A heart-to-heart talk with his son was what Paladin meant. To the Brandybuck’s eyes, it was long overdue. He hoped they would both keep their tempers in check. He rather thought they would. Paladin had a determined set to his jaw; he meant to understand his son, no matter what, and he’d not let his anger get in the way of that. And Peregrin, while he would never be patient, had learned at least to hold his impatience in check.

By unspoken agreement, everyone else went inside, leaving Paladin and Pippin alone on the front step. Frodo gave his cousin a brief hug as he passed him; Merry, a reassuring squeeze of the shoulder; and Sam, a pat on the back. Gimli muttered “take care, laddie” as he went by, and Legolas contented himself with a sympathetic smile. Paladin felt a bit rueful to realize that all his son’s friends thought they needed to reassure Pippin before he had a conversation with his father.

Father and son took out their pipes and sat down upon the step. They smoked silently for a few minutes, each gathering his thoughts.

Pippin spoke first. “What do you want to know, Father?”

Paladin gave his son a wry sidewise glance, and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He would not dare to give his inquisitive son an opening like that.

Pippin saw his expression, and chuckled softly. “Poor choice of words, I guess. Gandalf asked me that one time, and I told him ‘The names of all the stars, and of all living things, and the whole history of Middle-earth and Over-heaven and of the Sundering Seas.’*

“Gandalf,” Paladin said flatly. His meaning was clear by his tone.

“None of it was Gandalf’s fault. If you want to blame someone, blame Sauron for making the Ring in the first place.” Pippin blew a couple of smoke rings, and thought of weeks trekking through Eriador, and Gandalf’s smoking providing fascinating entertainment.

Paladin shook his head. They were both reluctant, and were allowing themselves to be side-tracked. “Pearl told me about the day she came over here.”

“The fifteenth. Exactly one year to the day after the Battle of Pellenor, after Merry and Lady Éowyn slew the Witch-King of Angmar, the day I nearly lost Merry forever.”

“That’s why you are living here. Merry was very ill?”

“Merry would probably have died if he had been alone. I cannot take that chance.”

Paladin nodded. “And what about you?”

“I have my nightmares; my dark memories. None of them will kill me, but they can make me weary after days of them. Rethe is a bad month for all of us.” Pippin ducked his head and looked away. His father thought he was probably trying not to weep.

“Tell me about the troll.”

“I told you about that the first night I was home.” There was a hint of anger in the reply.

“Peregrin, you led us to believe that you killed it, and it fell on you by accident. I find that’s not so.”

“Are you asking if I was *trying* to kill myself? The answer to that is ’No’. Are you asking if at that moment in time I cared whether or not I lived, the answer is also ’No’.” Pippin leaned back on his elbows for a second, and then forward to rest his head upon his knees. “I will try to explain it for you, Father, but it’s complicated. Boromir--” there was a catch in his voice at the name of his lost friend, “--Boromir had taught Merry and I as well as he could; but he knew we would always be at a disadvantage against larger foes, and though he taught us various ways to overcome some of that disadvantage, he knew it would be hard for us to prevail. At Parth Galen, he did not hesitate one second to put himself between us and the enemy, nor to keep fighting as long as he could. He sacrificed himself for us, without even thinking twice about his own life. He simply did it.

For a long time, I could not understand *how* he could do that; I know he loved us, but still--” Pippin shook his head. “At the time, Merry and I were beginning to feel pretty useless, just a nuisance to the rest of the Company, and it was hard to understand how we could be worth the life of such a noble Man.”

Paladin looked at Pippin and shook his head. His son had no idea how hard that was for him to hear.

“When I swore my service to Gondor, I did it for Boromir. I hoped that if he had known about it, he could have been a little proud of me for serving his City. Then, after everything else had happened, I marched out with my comrades of the Third Company to fight the Enemy. I got to know them pretty well by the time we came to where the battle would be.

At first, while we were still in the White City, they treated me like a young lad playing at soldier, but as we went, they began to see I was no child, and that I truly meant to do my part. We talked about our homes and families, and what we would do if the Dark should be defeated. I told them to put their trust in Frodo. I was sure that somehow he could do his job, and everything would come out right.

Then, as we waited for battle, Sauron’s messenger, the Mouth of Sauron, came out. He said that they had captured the ‘spies‘, and he had some of Frodo’s and Sam’s things to prove it: the mithril coat, Sam’s sword, an Elven cloak. I thought then that all was lost.” Pippin gazed sadly up at the night sky. “I truly did.” He fell silent for a moment.

“When the battle started, I was grieving and angry. I don’t think I’ve ever been that angry in my entire life, and I hope never to be so again. I just did my best to take out as many enemies as I could, in as short a time as possible, before the world came to an end. For that was what I thought was happening.

And then I saw the troll, and I saw my friends Beregond and Artamir and Adrahil in danger, and I remembered Boromir, and I thought of Frodo in Moria, and the troll that tried to kill him. And a way came to my mind that I could use to take it out--so I did. It wasn’t that I did not know it was dangerous, it was that it did not matter as long as I could save my comrades. I have to say though, Father, I am very glad I did not die.” Pippin quirked a sad little smile in his father’s direction, and Paladin put an arm around his son’s broad shoulders, though he had to reach up to do so.

“I am very glad you did not die, also, my son.”

“Well, Father, if this answers the questions that you had for me, I hope you do not mind if I go in and get some sleep. I promised young Bergil to take him fishing tomorrow. Did you know he’s never been?”

“No. That seems strange.”

“Not so much. He lives in a stone city with no place to fish, and for years it has been much too dangerous to allow anyone to just go down to the River Anduin for fishing.”

Paladin thought for a moment and then, almost shyly, asked “Would you mind terribly if I came along? It’s been a long time since I had a chance to do any fishing myself.”

“I think I’d like that very much, Father. Get some rest yourself, and I will see you first thing in the morning.”

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  * From The Two Towers Book 3, Chapter 11