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Dreamflower's Mathoms I  by Dreamflower

 PIPPIN'S CHARGE TO ÉOWYN

Merry’s face was pale, his grey eyes haunted. “So, you’re going with them, aren’t you?”

Pippin swallowed, and nodded. He had come to tell Merry just that, as soon as he had heard himself. “For Frodo. It’s all that’s left for us to do for him.”

Merry nodded as well. “I know. I wish you could stay, or that I could go. I don’t even have a sword anymore, Pip.” His voice was not much more than a whisper, and his eyes filled, though he blinked the tears away.

“My poor Merry.” Pippin put his hand on Merry’s brow. “It’s dreadful no matter how you look at it. I know you were up for a bit this morning, but you need to get some rest now.” He stood back, and blinked away his own tears. “I have to go see to a few things, some preparations the Third Company is making. But I will get leave to come back, and I’ll spend as much time as I can with you before--” he stopped. If he finished the sentence no amount of blinking would keep his tears from flowing. He gave Merry a pat on the hand, and a kiss on top of his head, and left.

Merry nodded, and lay back against the overlarge pillows of the bed. Strider had said he could get up this day, but he had found just wandering around the Houses of Healing depressing, and he was already tired out from his brief excursion. And now, Pippin’s news, of the decision made by the Captains of the West, to march on Mordor and distract Sauron from the Ringbearer--Frodo, dearest Frodo! And as always, the thoughts of all their beloved cousin and their friend Sam might be enduring plunged Merry into deepest sorrow.

Pippin stood by the door to Merry’s room, leaning against the wall, and trying to collect himself. He glanced up, and saw the tall form of the new King of Rohan, Éomer, exiting the next room and walk down the hallway ahead of him. That must mean that was the room of the Lady Éowyn, his sister. And *that* reminded Pippin of one more thing he needed to do before he left the Houses of Healing.

He went and tapped upon the door.

“Come in.”

Blessing his extra inches from the Ent-draught, Pippin reached up to open the door and enter.

“I do not wish--oh, I’m sorry!” said Éowyn, “I thought you were one of the healers with another draught. But you are another holbytlan. You must be Merry’s cousin, of whom I have heard so much.” She attempted a polite smile, but Pippin could tell she had been weeping, from her red nose and eyes. She was very white against her pillows, with her left arm in a sling.

He gave a bow. “Peregrin Took, at your service and your family’s, Lady Éowyn.”

She smiled a little more. “Peregrin? But that is not what Merry calls you.”

He grinned. “No, my lady, I expect if he’s not calling me a ‘nuisance’ or a ‘tom-fool Took’ he’s probably calling me ‘Pippin’ or even ‘Pip’.”

Her smile finally reached her eyes, and she gave a little laugh. “Yes, I do believe that is what I have heard him call you: Pippin. He is very fond of you.”

Pippin nodded, and his face became solemn. “And I of him. That it why I wished to speak to you. I wanted to thank you, for bringing him with you.”

“It seemed only right, for I could tell how it cut him to the quick to be left behind. He did not mean to be left, and yet by himself, he should never have arrived on time. It was not fair that they leave him.”

“They meant well.”

She nodded. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had meant well when they left Merry in the keeping of her uncle as they travelled the Path of the Dead. And her uncle had meant well when he told her and Merry to stay behind.

“But ‘meaning well’ is not always right,” she said. “And there it is; I would not be left, nor would he. It seemed only right that we travel together.”

Pippin approached her. “You will always have my everlasting gratitude. I do not know what would have happened if the two of you had not come, but I cannot think it would have ended so well as it did.”

A cloud passed over her face. “It was a victory of sorts, but I would not say it ended well.”

Pippin nodded sadly. He knew that Merry grieved for her uncle as well. “He was so kind, Pippin, and he listened, and he cared what I had to say. He reminded me of Da.”

“My lady, I owe you so much already, yet if I could I would ask one more thing of you?”

“What is that, Pippin?”

“Will--will you look after my Merry for me? I hate that I must leave him, all alone and friendless here. This great pile of stone--it’s--it’s not easy for hobbits.”

“I will. I would anyway, for he is not friendless--he’s my dear friend and sword-brother.” And though she looked very solemn and did not smile, there was kindness in her eyes.

“Thank you,” Pippin tried for dignity, but it was a lost cause. He went to her side, and gave her good arm a brief squeeze. “Oh, thank you so much! You’ve no idea what it means to me!”

She looked a bit startled at the quick embrace, but now she smiled. “I will look after him for you, I promise.”

He stepped back, and taking a deep breath, drew himself up. “Well, I thank you again, twice over. And now I must go. Farewell, my lady! Perhaps things may turn out well after all, and if they do, I will see you again.”

He turned and went out, back straight and proud, a small soldier of Gondor, and she gazed after him with glistening eyes.





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