Their Own Paths to Take

The company rode on, coming in three days time to Helm’s Deep. For two days they restocked their provisions and rested both horses and riders. It was a quiet time, a time of reflection and remembering the battle that had been fought there. Legolas made good on his promise to visit the Glittering Caves with Gimli. Their beauty touched him in a way he had not foreseen, much as meeting the Lady of the Golden Wood had touched the Dwarf.

It was a time of reflection of a different kind for the smallest Gondorian Knight. In the soft light of a fading moon, beneath a star strewn sky, on the company’s last night in the great fortress of the Rohirrim, Pippin stood leaning against the parapet of the Hornburg, looking out through one of the embrasures with Sunshine sitting by his right foot. His gaze took in the Deeping stream and the Deeping Coomb beyond it; or it would have if he was paying attention to what he appeared to be looking at. In truth his thoughts were elsewhere.

For reasons of his own, King Elessar, dressed in clothes reminiscent of his old Ranger’s garb, was walking upon the battlements. Though also lost in his own thoughts, his sharp eyes registered the shadowy form of the youngest hobbit where he leaned against the wall with his dog beside him.

“I know you’re there, Strider,” Pippin said softly as his King approached.

Strider grinned. “It is difficult to sneak up on a hobbit, especially one who is being so unusually quiet.” He stopped beside Sunshine, turning to lean upon and look over the merion to the right of Pippin’s embrasure.

“Quite nice of them to have these low spots in the walls. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to look out.”

It was easy to hear the jest in Pippin’s voice. He knew full well the embrasures were there to give defenders a better shot at an attacking enemy, not to give hobbits (or Dwarves) a better view. The two friends stood beside each other in silence for several minutes.

“Why are you out walking about?” Pippin asked his friend while keeping his eyes on the distant, starry horizon.

The King stood silent a few moments more.

“Remembering what has past, considering what is to come. So many things have happened, and many things have yet to happen. Change ofttimes is not easy.”

Again there was silence. Sunshine pressed herself against her master’s leg moments before a short blank spell came over him. It was a light one and he was not even tired after it’s passing.

“I would ask you the same question, Pippin. Why are you walking the ramparts of the Hornburg in the middle of the night?”

“Much the same as you, Strider, although my thoughts of the past are not of this place. As you say, there have been great changes and there are changes coming.”

Strider heard the sigh as Pippin breathed out, and the catch in his voice as he continued.

“I fear losing you,” he said in the forthright manner of his people. “I’m going back to the Shire and nothing will be the same because I am not the same.”

“You can’t take me with you, my friend.” The man’s grin colored his tone.

“I know. Your people just got their King back, I’m sure they will not wish to lend him to the Shire just yet. But . . .” the lad’s voice was serious again. “You have announced that tomorrow is your last day with us. What will happen if my elixir needs adjusting? What if something goes amiss with me?”

“Lord Elrond continues on with you to Rivendell.”

“Well, yes . . .” Pippin hesitated. “I know that.”

“However?” his friend encouraged. He could feel Pippin’s discomfort.

The hobbit said nothing for a moment, then in a rush explained.

“The ‘however’ is that he makes me nervous. Well, not exactly nervous. Uncomfort . . . well, no, not really uncomfortable either. I don’t know what it is he does to me. I know he taught you nearly everything you know. I know it was he that thought of the King’s Clover for me and kept me from dying when I was such a fool. I know all of that, but I also know he didn’t want me to come on the Quest, and that he’s this very powerful person who has lived nearly forever and I feel awkward around him.”

Strider could see Pippin turn his head to look at him.

“The truth of it all is that I feel closer to you,” Pippin said, then turned back to the view over the embrasure’s short wall. “I am thinking of not going home.”

Had Pippin not turned away, even in the low light, he might have seen the widening of Aragorn’s eyes in surprise at this pronouncement made by his young knight. This was indeed a serious matter as he was well aware of how dear The Shire is to the hearts of all hobbits.

“You are thinking of not returning to The Shire, but not yet decided?” Strider asked cautiously, not wishing to lose the moment through ill spoken words.

“No. I’ve not decided yet. There is much . . . it isn’t . . .” Pippin sighed and his head drooped. His gaze was now upon the bottom edge of the embrasure he stood before. The forefinger of his right hand began nervously picking at the stone of the wall. “It isn’t an easy decision and with my thoughts getting muddled more now than they used to, I’m having trouble deciding what I should do.”

The lad, for a lad he still was in many ways, continued to pick at the wall. His friend let him take his time, although, Strider was feeling anxious about what he would soon hear.

“I am thinking of returning to Minas Tirith with you.”

There was another pause, then Pippin turned quickly, raising his face to look Strider in the eye as best he could in the low light of the starlit night.

“I’m understood there. I’m respected there. There are many others who have been hurt or . . . are less than whole, and the people of the city don’t turn away from them nor shun them . . . shun us because of it. They know what happened to us. They know we fought against the Great Enemy and they respect and honor our sacrifices. I will get no such respect in The Shire. Hobbits care little of the affairs of the Outside world, of the world of Men. They won’t have known anything about the Dark Lord, nor the Ring, nor the battles, nor of the things the four of us done or lived through. They will see only Mad Frodo Baggins and his foolishly loyal gardener, along with his daft Brandybuck and Took cousins. They will scoff at and ridicule us, even if it is only behind our backs.”

Pippin stopped to draw a deep breath. He looked down at Sunshine and he began to twitch his fingers in her fur as he had picked at the stone wall moments before.

“And the healers there, in The Shire, they won’t have any idea at all of what to do if I become worse.” He let out a dismissive huff. “They won’t even know what to do with me at all, worse or not. My Ma is a healer, I know a great deal about the skills and knowledge of Hobbit healers, and in regards to the falling sickness, well, both their knowledge and skills are nil.”

The lad paused again. Strider could feel the struggle going on inside his friend. It came off of the youngster in waves as easy for the King to sense as others might feel a flame giving off heat. It was more than a mere struggle of the mind, and as Strider’s thoughts gave name to it, so did Pippin.

“I’m afraid, Strider.” Pippin said as a shudder passed through him. “Some Knight of Gondor I am. Impressive Ernil i Pheriannath.” He once more raised his face to the king. “I’m scared, Strider. I’m afraid of their ridicule, their own ignorance induced fears of those who have the falling sickness and I’m afraid of the lack of knowledge of the healers. There! I’ve said it. I want to take the path that is easiest. I want to go back with you.”

Pippin had drawn himself up to his full height as he made his proclamation, now, he slumped back into the defeated posture that had gripped him before. He sighed as he looked down at his fingers curling and uncurling themselves in Sunshine’s fur.

“But, I want to see my parents and my sisters. I want to embrace them and feel them in my arms and let them know how much I’ve missed them. I want to hold my nieces and nephews. I want to see Merry’s parents, my favorite aunt and uncle. I want to see the rolling Green Hill Country and go back to the croplands and pastures of Whitwell. I want to go home. And there is no way I can do both. I have to choose and either choice will hurt me. What should I do, Strider?”

Silence followed. The Healer King waited until he sensed Pippin’s emotions had calmed somewhat.

“You do not know what awaits you in The Shire.”

Pippin’s head quickly pulled up as he opened his mouth to speak, but Strider continued.

“You are surmising, doing so with the knowledge of your own experiences, but surmising nonetheless.” Aragorn turned and looked in the direction of The Shire. His voice took on a distant tone. “We do not know that all is well in The Shire, Sir Peregrin. The Black Riders, the Nazgul, were there before the four of you left its borders. Sauron knew of The Shire, as did Saruman.”

Pippin gasped, and Aragorn turned back to the hobbit, his voice now gentle. “Nay, Pippin. Be calm in your heart. I know nothing for a certainty. But as you well know there have been reports from the north of Orcs and of battles fought. Of the West, I know naught.”

Pippin reached out and laid his left hand upon Strider’s right arm.

“I’ve had dreams . . .” Pippin began but paused to swallow the lump in his throat. “I’ve had dreams of bad things happening back home.”

“Perhaps you have been given a new sight, Pippin. The brain and the mind are mysterious things that even Elrond does not fully understand. There have been times in the past when some with the falling sickness were said to be prophets and seers.” He smiled and Pippin could see it in the starlight. “And there are those rumors of the Tooks having a touch of the fey folk in them.”

The small hand on Strider’s right arm tightened its grip as Pippin drew in a deep breath.

“That settles it. I will go on with the others. I’ll go home.” He paused in thought. “Perhaps, we are needed after all if things have gone dark in The Shire. Even though I can no longer fight as a soldier, if things have gone wrong there should be something I can do to help. Then later, I can send healers to Rivendell, or Lord Elrond can send some of those he has trained to The Shire before they leave Middle-earth. So I need not worry over the care I may get for my condition. I can then decide how to deal with whatever else awaits me as the years pass.”

Strider clapped him on the shoulder. “Reasoned out like a true Ernil i Pheriannath and Took and Thain of The Shire!” he exclaimed. “That indeed would be a fine solution to your concerns for your health.”

“And the health of those others in The Shire who have the falling sickness,” Pippin replied with his usual cheeriness. “I think it would be good for both of us to seek our beds, my lord, as we both have what I think will be a rather emotional day tomorrow.” He stopped, giving his friend’s arm another squeeze. “Thank you Strider. For everything. You have cared for me, for all of us, since we met you in Bree. No matter what happens when I reach home, whether good or ill, I will miss you terribly. Please, don’t ever forget that.”

Strider dropped to one knee and the two dear friends embraced each other for a long time.

“I will never forget that, Pippin. Neither as your friend nor as your King. Be assured of that.”

Then the Man rose and he, the Hobbit, and the Dog walked back toward the keep of the Hornburg.

The next day they all rode away from Helm’s Deep, coming quickly to Isengard, what Treebeard now called the “Treegarth of Orthanc.” There they were given the not too reassuring news that Saruman was no longer in the tower. It was also where they parted company with Legolas and Gimli as they would take a different path, one that led, as Gimli had agreed to, through Fangorn Forest.

“Here at last comes the ending of the Fellowship of the Ring,” said Aragorn. “Yet I hope that ere long you will return to my land with the help that you promised.” *

“We will come if our own lords allow it,” said Gimli. *

Legolas embraced Aragorn. “We will return, my brother and King. How soon, I do not know, but we will return to your fair city and the friends we have there.” He bowed to Queen Arwen, kissing her hand as he did so. “Though there is pain in your choice, my lady, may there be great joy as well.”

Gimli clasped hands with Aragorn and they held each other’s eyes for several moments. Much more was said in that long look than words could say. The Dwarf then turned to the Queen, who looked down at him with a kindly, though bemused, smile.

He motioned for her to lean closer to him. Softly he said, “You are beautiful indeed, your Majesty.” Then Gimli mumbled. “Though for me, your grandmother shall always be my brighter star.” He sighed. “So is my fate, it seems, to treasure most what will soon be gone.” Then a twinkle came into his eyes. “Take care of this Man you have wed, I fear he’ll need watching over.”

Arwen laughed lightly then kissed Gimli upon his brow. He blushed to the roots of his hair and turned quickly away to look at where Legolas was saying his farewell to the hobbits.

The tall Elf had gone down on one knee before the four hobbits.

“That had best be to spare us getting sore necks from looking up at you, and not any nonsense of bowing to us, Legolas.” Frodo said with a teasing tone in his voice.

“I wouldn’t think of bowing to you,” replied the Elf. “I am a prince and only bow to the King.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

“When have you bowed to me?” Aragorn asked, and the Fellowship all laughed.

When the laughed faded, Legolas addressed the hobbits. “I had no experience with your people before meeting you four and Bilbo in Rivendell. That was my loss, my dear friends. You have taught me much; to enjoy the simple things life in Middle-earth has to offer. To enjoy and treasure them. Now that there will be less need for my skills as a warrior, I intend to act upon that lesson and enjoy all the days that I spend in this land. Farewell to you all. My blessing and those of my people go with you.”

Then to the surprise of all who stood there, the normally taciturn Legolas warmly embraced and kissed each of the hobbits as tears flowed from his eyes. When he was done, he stood and walked a ways away from the group, wishing to recover his usually calm emotions.

“Hrumph,” Gimli huffed through his beard. He wasn’t sure he wished to embrace and kiss the hobbits, but he did hate feeling he had been upstaged by the Elf.

“Well, you all know that those of us of Durin’s folk value you hobbits, and . . . eh . . .” His gruff demeanor took over. “I’d best not hear of you not taking proper care of yourselves or your people. I would hate to have to drag the Elf with me to The Shire to straighten the lot of you out.”

Gimli turned to Frodo. “You’re as good as your Uncle Bilbo and better and I thank you, lad. There won’t be a Dwarf alive in all of Middle-earth that won’t know the name of the one who saved us all.” He lightly hugged the Ringbearer.

“Samwise,” he said looking Frodo’s gardener up on down. “Feed him well, lad. And tend well all those cuttings and such as have been sent home with you. Oh, and marry that lass you’ve your eyes on.” As he hugged Sam, he added in his ear, “You’re a wonder you are at watchin’ over this lot. You keep on with it or I’ll come and box your ears.”

“You’ve no need to worry on that count, Mr. Gimli,” Sam smiled as he whispered in reply. “I’ll be keepin’ both eyes on all of them. May have to give up gardenin’ as I think it will be a full time job.”

The two nodded to each other and Gimli moved on to Merry.

“You’ll remember what I’ve taught you about stonework, Merry lad?”

“I will, Gimli. Buckland will have much better stonework than anywhere in The Shire will.” Merry winked at the Dwarf who grinned back. “I know the Stonebow bridge needs repairs, and it would be good to have another bridge further South. And we’ll improve our roads as well, and I reckon we will have a good deal fewer tunnels collapsing.”

“That’s the right of it, laddie,” Gimli said aloud, then, as he embraced him he added, “And you’ll watch the wee lad, won’t you? See he’s cared for and cares for himself?”

“With all my heart, Gimli. You know I will. Until he finds himself a wife, and then I’ll watch both of them.”

“Thank ya, laddie.” Gimli said as he patted Merry’s back before turning to Pippin.

The Dwarf’s expression was stern, except for his twinkling eyes. “Well, young hobbit! Is there any point in leavin’ you with words of wisdom? Not much seems to have sunk in up till now.”

“No,” Pippin laughed. “No point to it at all. I shall stay a rascal all my days.”

“Well, just don’t let anything else fall on you. I might not be around to get you out from under it.”

“I won’t, Gimli. I promise.”

The Dwarf’s tightest hug had been reserved for Pippin and when it was finished he pulled the youngster over to one side.

“You’ll take your tonic as you’re supposed to?”

“Yes, Gimli.”

“And the stones? You’ve the stones about your wee neck?”

“Aye.”

“And you’ll cleanse them as you should so they can do their work on ya?”

“Aye, mother hen,” Pippin said, laughing and crying all together. He flung his arms around the startled Dwarf. “Thank you, Gimli. Thank you for finding me and shoving that troll off of me.” His voice broke a little. “Thank you for saving me. I’ll take care of myself and Merry too. I promise you.”

“Aye, laddie. I know you will. And you’re welcome, young hobbit. You’re very welcome.”

They both had tears in their eyes as they moved back to the group.

By then Legolas had moved back to the group as well and Gandalf addressed the Elf and the Dwarf together.

“This is one of the greatest sights my eyes could behold,” he said in a tender voice. “Elf and Dwarf friends at last. May it spread to both of your peoples. You will accomplish greater things together than ever you would have apart. The blessings of all of Middle-earth go with you both.”

Legolas and Gimli looked at all of their friends one more time, then turned away, heading toward the dense expanse of Fangorn’s Forest.

Merry and Pippin were invited to have one more drink of entdraught. Pippin looked to Aragorn and Elrond, concerned for the effect the draught might have with his medicine. Treebeard waited, confused over Pippin’s reaction and the short conference held by the two healers. Permission was given and Pippin went with Merry and the old Ent off to one side where an Ent sized stone jar sat with two small bowls and one large one beside it. But Treebeard did not reach to fill the bowls.

“Hoom, Pippin,” Treebeard slowly said. “Is there some difficulty, some ill effect my drink has had on you? I would say it looks to have done both you and Merry well, not ill.”

“What? No, if anything you’re right, it has done both of us a great deal of good. Why do you ask?”

“You, hoom, sought approval from the King and Elrond Half-Elven.”

Pippin looked to Merry. He wasn’t sure the old Ent would have any knowledge of the falling sickness. Somehow, he didn’t think it was something an Ent could have.

“Just tell him, Pip,” Merry said encouragingly.

Pippin turned back to Treebeard, taking a deep breath and straightening his shoulders as he did so.

“I was trapped beneath a troll and was injured. I’ve a . . . a condition now that troubles my brain. I feared that perhaps the draught would not be good to mix with the elixir I take for it, as we know I have to be very careful with ale and spirits. Stri . . . er, the King and Lord Elrond are my healers, so I thought I’d best see what they thought I should do.”

Treebeard hummed softly to himself as he looked solemnly at the small hobbit. Yes, now that it was mentioned, he could sense a small change in his young friend. But the two healers had given the little one their approval, and so they would share a draught before their parting. He carefully filled their small bowls and his large one.

The hobbits drank heartily.

“Take care, take care!” Treebeard said. “For you have already grown since I saw you last.”*

The two cousins laughed and all three of them drained their bowls.

“Well, good-bye!” Treebeard said when they had finished. “And don’t forget that if you hear any news of the Entwives in your land, you will send word to me.” *

“We will,” the cousins replied.

The old Ent waved a farewell to the company and strode off into the wood that now surrounded the tower of Orthanc.

For a long while, as they rode on their way, the hobbits chatted merrily about the Ents. Pippin had been given leave to ride with his kinsmen instead of with the King’s knights so he could share his part of the tales. Frodo and Sam seemed to have even more questions about them, now that they had seen them for themselves, than they had before. Eventually, they quieted. Merry and Pippin whispered together about their concerns for the Ents and their promise to send word should they hear or see anything of the Entwives in the Shire. Sam had been quick to remember that his brother Hal claimed to have seen a walking tree up on the North Moors and this suddenly had taken on new meaning for Merry and Pippin.

The day passed swiftly and almost without their noticing, the sun had drawn nigh to her setting. Pippin had grown quiet and Merry with him. They knew this area. They had been here before. Not very far away was the place another company had halted to make camp for the night. It was in the midst of the Quest, in a time between two great and horrible battles and the next. Helm’s Deep and the destruction of Isengard lay behind . . . The battle of the Pelennor Fields lay ahead.

Not too far from here Peregrin Took had given in to temptation and looked into the Palantir of Orthanc.

A tremble passed through the young hobbit

At a gesture from those in the lead, the entourage came to a halt. The King of Gondor positioned himself at the midpoint of the long line and gave an order for them to move into a circle around him.

“My friends, the time has come for our ways to part. What is now my home is not your home and you are understandably eager to return to those places that are dearest to you. Elves of Rivendell; my family. For so I count you as I spent my childhood and youth amongst you. We know that for many of you this is our last time seeing one another’s faces as you will soon board the ships that will take you into the West. A few, I have seen, will remain for a time and we shall meet again. Know that you are all dear to my heart and I will never forget your love and kindness towards me these many long years.”

Elessar paused, gathering his emotions.

“I would now bid a more personal farewell to those with whom I journeyed on the Quest that won us our lives and our world.”

With a nod to all assembled, he dismounted and stood waiting for the hobbits and Gandalf to come to him.

The Hobbits felt this parting keenly. For all their doubts of him when first they met, through everything that had followed afterwards, Strider had never failed them. At first they all merely stood there, eyes to the ground at their feet.

“I wish we could have a Stone that we could see all our friends in,” Pippin finally said, “and that we could speak to them from far away!” *

Merry’s mouth fell open, and even Frodo and Sam, who had only heard about the business with the palantir, could scarcely believe Pippin would say such a thing.

Strider went down on one knee before the youngest hobbit. “Only one now remains that you could use,” he gently said. “for you would not wish to see what the Stone of Minas Tirith would show you.” *

They looked a long minute into each other’s eyes and for a moment, Pippin saw hands being burned by flames as they held a shining globe. His eyes finally closed as a shiver ran down his spine.

“But the Palantir of Orthanc the King will keep, to see what is passing in his realm, and what his servants are doing. For do not forget, Peregrin Took, that you are a knight of Gondor, and I do not release you from your service. You are going now on leave, but I may recall you. And remember, dear friends of the Shire,” Strider added looking now at Merry, Frodo and Sam, “that my realm lies also in the North, and I shall come there one day.” *

Pippin had drawn himself up to his full height as his King reminded him of his title and assured him that he was not being released from his service, but silent tears crept down his, and the other hobbit’s faces.

“All that is gold does not glitter, Not all those who wander are lost;” Frodo softly recited.

“The old that is strong does not wither,” Samwise the gardener added. “Deep roots are not reached by the frost.”

“From the ashes a fire shall be woken,” Sir Meriadoc of Rohan intoned, a fiery gleam in his eyes. “A light from the shadows shall spring;”

In a full, strong voice Pippin finished the verses with a touch of his own. “Renewed shall be blade that was broken, The once crownless is now our King!”

With that, the smallest knight of Gondor went down upon one knee before his King, who was still down upon on knee himself. Pippin deftly slid his sword from its scabbard and held its pommel toward his liege lord. There was a pause as Strider saw the blankness come over his knight’s eyes, then with a blink, Pippin returned to the matter at hand.

“I pledged my service to Denethor, and though I know there is no need for me to do so, I wish to pledge my service to you, King Elessar.”

The High King grasped the hilt of the small weapon as Peregrin Took restated his vow of service to Gondor and her King.

“This vow I accept,” Aragorn said, “with my hand upon the hilt of the sword that I now name ‘Trolls Bane’, in honor of the service of the weapon and its bearer. May it serve its master well as he serves well his Lord and King.” Despite the formal manner of the exchange, Strider smiled lovingly at Pippin.

“Thank you, Strider.” Pippin said through his tears.

The King stood, and laying his hands upon Peregrin’s head, he spoke aloud the blessing that he had so often spoken over him in the lad’s times of greatest need.

“Peregrin Took, may you be brave, and have the strong head to think with, and the strong heart to love with, and the strong hands to work with and the strong feet to travel with and always come home safe to your own.”

He withdrew his hands then touched Pippin below his chin to bring his gaze up to meet his own.

“I have said this blessing over you many times, my dear young hobbit. Merry has said it over you as well. I believe it will all come to pass although maybe not in ways any of us expect.” Strider looked at the other hobbits. “My blessings go with each of you and I return you to your own people ready to handle whatever may come your way. Look for my coming to the North country, my dearest friends.”

Then all the hobbits embraced their dear friend.

Aragorn then arose and looked long into the eyes of Gandalf.

“Long you have aided and guided me, my dear friend and mentor. There has been for me only one parting that has been more difficult.” The tall, strong man swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. “We will see each other, I know, before you depart this world, and yet, this is the end of the task we worked upon together for so long. I will miss you and your encouragement, wisdom, mercy and humour.”

“You are now the one who others will seek for such things, and they shall not leave your presence disappointed, my dear, dear friend. Until we meet again, peace be with you, Aragorn.”

The two friends embraced then parted.

King Elessar remained at that spot until the departing company had nearly faded from his keen sight, then he lifted up the Elfstone, letting the light of the setting sun set it ablaze in a farewell salute to those he loved so dearly.

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* All passages followed by an asterisk are quoted from the chapter “Many Partings” in “The Return of the King”.