A/N: Thank you to Pipwise for betaing this chapter.

It was approaching mid-morning when Frodo woke from his deep slumber. In a panic, he rushed to Pippin’s room, his sleep-befuddled mind swimming with thoughts of the worst kind. Only when he saw Pippin sleeping peacefully with Sam at his side did his heart slow to a normal pattern.

“Mr. Frodo!” Sam cried, jumping out of his seat. He clapped his hands over his mouth and glanced apologetically at the hobbit in the bed, who was now stirring. “Sorry, Mr. Pippin.”

“’Morning, Sam…Good Morning, Frodo!” Pippin coughed deeply, but not as violently as he had the night before, and smiled at his cousin. “Sleep well?”

Frodo sat beside Pippin and inspected the young hobbit. Pippin’s fever was gone, his eyes were no longer glassy, and a bit of his normal coloring had returned to his face. His voice still sounded raspy, and his breathing was heavier than normal, but by all accounts, Pippin had greatly improved during the night.

“I’m so sorry, Pippin,” Frodo said. “I don’t know what came over me – I didn’t mean to sleep for more than an hour or so.” He turned to look up at Sam. “When did you get here, Sam?”

“Well, when I arrived this morning, Mr. Gandalf was all set to leave, and he told me I should stay with Mr. Pippin here. He said you were worn out and needed your rest, and – and that I was just the right hobbit to take care of things.” Sam ducked his head and his ears flushed pink in embarrassment as he took a step toward the door. “If you’re not needing me now, sir, I’ll just make some breakfast for you and Mr. Pippin.”

“Thank you, Sam,” Frodo said with a smile, before turning back to his cousin. “What would we do without him, Pippin?”

Pippin thought for a moment before shrugging. “Starve, I suppose.”

Sam blushed furiously and fled to the kitchen.

Frodo pulled Pippin into a tight hug. “This is the best you’ve looked in days, Pippin. How do you feel?”

“Much better,” Pippin replied. “I’m still coughing, and my nose is stuffed and sniffly, but my chest doesn’t hurt so much and I’m hungry.” He wriggled away from Frodo’s tight embrace. “Do I still have to take my tonic?”

“Oh, yes. Thank you for reminding me,” Frodo said, reaching for the bottle. Pippin groaned but accepted the medicine.

“Did you see my stars?” Pippin asked eagerly when he was finished.

“Your what?”

“My stars. Gandalf gave them to me. Not to keep, though, just to borrow. They were very pretty. And warm! Did you know that stars are warm, Frodo?”

Baffled, Frodo stared at his cousin. The fever must have made him hallucinate last night. “What are you talking about, Pippin?”

Pippin sighed. “Stars, Frodo. Gandalf gave me two of them before I went to sleep and I looked at them and held them, just like I always wanted to. Then I had to let them go back home, so we opened the window and they flew back up to the sky.”

“Oh,” Frodo replied, raising his eyebrows. “That’s…very interesting, Pippin,” he said, reaching for a handkerchief to wipe his cousin’s nose.

“Isn’t it?” Pippin smiled happily, batting away the handkerchief. “It’s a shame they had to leave so soon, or you could have seen them, too.” He paused, and sniffed loudly. “I think my nose is starting to work again. Is that bacon?”

Frodo breathed in deeply. “Yes, and eggs, too. Do you feel well enough to come inside and eat, or shall I bring you a tray?”

“No, I want to get up. I’m so tired of this bed.” Pippin allowed Frodo to help him to his feet and only protested a little bit when his cousin insisted that he wear a robe and wrap up in a blanket.

Pippin looked more like himself once he was settled at the table with a plate of food before him. He coughed and sniffled between bites, but concentrated on his breakfast and paid no attention to the others.

Sam hovered by Frodo’s chair. “I’m glad Mr. Pippin is up and about, sir. Is there anything you’re wanting?”

“No, Sam. Thank you for breakfast. Have you eaten yet?”

“I’m all right, Mr. Frodo.”

“I suppose that’s a no. Come on, Sam, have breakfast with us.”

Sam hesitated, and inched closer to the door. “Well, sir, I have lots of work to do this morning. All that rain we had these past few days has set me back.”

Frodo smiled. “Sam.”

Sam fidgeted for another moment before nodding finally and filling a plate for himself with considerably less reluctance. “I saw the strangest thing last night, Mr. Frodo,” he offered shyly as he reached for the bacon.

“What was it?” asked Frodo.

“Well, sir, after I came home, I sat for a while with my Gaffer and then I went to bed. It was later than usual and, as I was changing, I saw these odd little lights hovering round in the sky. So I went closer to my window, and sure enough, it looked like they were coming from the Hill. These lights flew right up high, ‘til I couldn’t see them no more. It was a mighty strange sight,” Sam concluded, shaking his head thoughtfully. His face brightened, “Do you think it was some sort of Elf-magic, Mr. Frodo?”

For a moment, Frodo sat stunned, before his eyes darted over to where his cousin was happily occupying himself with his breakfast.

“No, Sam,” Frodo said with a smile. “I believe they were two stars that Gandalf told Pippin about.”

“Stars, sir?” Sam pondered this for a moment before nodding in agreement. “Well, I suppose a wizard would know.”

(The Star-verse continues in my Cormallen story "The Stars Will Light Your Way," which is posted here at Stories of Arda)