THE HEART OF A BROTHER

Pippin’s Heart

Pippin sat up abruptly. Next to him Gandalf shifted uneasily but did not wake. Or so Pippin thought, as frightening dream did everything but vanish from his memory. He wiped the sweat from his forehead, even though it was cool in the daylight hours of March. Pippin drew his knees up, resting his chin atop his folded arms, eyes scanning the distant mountains while watching the beacons burn darkly in the light of day, gloomy as it was. For reasons unknown to Pippin, the beacons gave him comfort. The flaming signals were a reminder to him that there were other folks out here in the Anorien wilderness besides him and Gandalf. The tween tried desperately to recollect happier times while still living with his family back at home in the Shire, but the evil, dark vision of the seeing-stone gripped his being. He shuddered, laying his forehead where his chin had been.

Pippin yawned; his bones were weary from the long ride, yet he had slept for most of the journey while perched upon Shadowfax in front of Gandalf. Poor Merry, he thought to himself, all alone with no one to talk to. Well, at least, no other hobbits. Pippin himself had been spirited away by the White Wizard and was now traveling to a place called Minas Tirith, a city made of stone built upon a mountain.

Looking up, Pippin peered into the hazy eastern horizon. He could barely see the last peaks of the mountain range that they were following on the Great West Road. Pippin guessed that the white city sat on a mountain that was obscured from view. At least, that is where he understood the location to be as Gandalf explained it to him before they stopped for a rest.

Pippin yearned for the touch of soft grass beneath his feet; for a bright, sunny day filled with the promise of laughter amongst his friends in the woods around his home, though often it would be just him and Merry. Him and Merry. His thoughts centered on his life-long friend. He missed his cousin terribly. Never before had they been separated by so many miles between them. Dark images rose up in his mind’s eye; Merry’s doing fine on his own, Pippin thought mournfully, he doesn’t need me--he’s angry with me. I’m probably already forgotten.

“Peregrin?”

Gandalf’s voice gave Pippin a start. “I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?”

“No, lad,” Gandalf answered, rising to his feet. He looked towards the sun still climbing towards its apex. “It is time for us to once again fly with Shadowfax.”

Pippin nodded, though the word ‘fly’ amused him when applying it to a horse. Pippin looked up at the Wizard, “Gandalf? Will I see Merry again?” he asked softly.

Gandalf perceived there was something heavy weighing on the young hobbit’s heart. “I would not give you false promises, Peregrin, but,” he placed a hand on Pippin’s shoulder, “there is always hope.”

“I…we…,” Pippin lowered his face towards his drawn-up knees; his voice cracking with emotion. “He was angry with me, Gandalf. He’s been angry with me before, but not like this. We didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Gandalf sat down next to his young companion. “Of course he was angry with you, Peregrin. We were all rather displeased with your behavior two nights ago.”

Pippin quickly wiped his tears when he thought Gandalf wasn’t looking. “I’m sorry that I ever looked into that ball.”

“Of course you are; you’ve said that before, but I am afraid that does not change things, does it?” Gandalf realized that this was the first time in Pippin’s life that he had been totally cut off from other hobbits. “Are you lonely for your cousins?”

Without looking at the Wizard, Pippin answered, “He turned away, Gandalf.”

“Meriadoc?” Gandalf inquired, “He turned away?” After discovering Pippin with the Palantí r, Gandalf was so intent on reviving the young hobbit--and learning what he had told the Enemy--that the wizard never saw Merry’s actions.

Pippin’s eyes welled with tears as the entire scene played time and time again in his mind. Pippin explained, “He looked at me, and then as I caught his gaze, he turned away. He turned his back on me.”

“Peregrin, just because someone is angry with you, does not mean that they no longer love you.”

“But he’s never done that before.”

“I believe you are fretting overmuch about Meriadoc,” Gandalf told Pippin.

“Of course, Gandalf,” Pippin answered, rising to his feet, though he still felt the weight of care on his small shoulders.

The wizard lifted Pippin onto Shadowfax. “There now, Peregrin, I believe your reasoning has improved.

Pulling himself up behind the hobbit, Gandalf didn’t see the deep, sorrowful expression on Pippin’s face.