The flute

Betaread by Pearl Took

Soft, as though borne on the wings of doves, the melody floated through the cold night air.  Over grass and tree, over sea and mountain, up to the glittering stars high above in the dark sky.  The sleeping birds in the trees stuck their heads out of their feathers in wonder and a small, red fox in the wood stopped in his nightly wanderings and pricked up his ears.

Longing and sadness sounded in the high and deep tones of the song and lay heavily, like dark veil, over the hearts of the listeners.

An old mouse came crawling out of his hole and looked with big questioning eyes at the creature that stood, not far away, in the shadow of a big oak tree playing a small, silver flute.  Cautiously the mouse came nearer.  He paused and looked around, noticing that he was not the only one listening.  Other animals, big and small, were sitting near or next to the flute player, listening to the music.

The mouse stopped in front of two woolly hair covered feet and looked up.

“Why are you so sad?” it squeaked, but its question stayed unanswered.

**********

At another place, far away, two pairs of eyes gazed over the seemingly endless ocean.

“Do you hear it Gandalf?”

Gandalf nodded. “Yes, Frodo. I hear the sadness, the longing, and the pain in his playing.”

“Was it a mistake? To leave them I mean.”

Gandalf softly put a hand on Frodo’s shoulder.

“No. You had to leave and they understand your decision. But healing needs its time.”

“I just wish I could help them heal, like the Elves are helping me to heal.” Frodo murmured silently.

***********

The old mouse and the other animals that had gathered around Pippin scurried away when a second woolly footed creature approached.

Merry, clad only in his nightshirt and bathrobe, cautiously stepped up to Pippin and put one hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

“Pip?” he asked. “What is it?”

Pippin let the flute sink, following it with his eyes until he was looking at the ground, but said nothing.

Merry noticed that Pippin was trembling because of cold.  He took off his bathrobe and put it over Pippin’s slim shoulders.

“Come on Pip, let us go inside,” he said, but Pippin didn´t move. Instead he looked up to the clear sky, sprinkled with stars.

“Merry?” he asked. “What do you think Frodo is doing right now?”

Merry gave Pippin a kiss on the forehead.

“I don’t know…. Maybe, at this exact moment, he is looking at the same stars above and thinking about you, just like you are thinking about him.”

“Do you think he is happy, there where he is?”

“Yes Pip. I think he is. I believe, he is finding healing there.”

They stood awhile in silence as each of the cousins followed their own thoughts.

“Merry?” Pippin suddenly asked again.

Merry looked expectantly at his friend.

“Am I selfish?”

“Where did you get an idea like that?”

“Because I wish so much that Frodo would still be here in the Shire, with us . . .”

Merry hugged Pippin with one arm about his shoulders. “No Pip, you are not selfish. You just miss Frodo.  We all do.”

Pippin’s eyes wandered again to the stars.  But Merry’s gaze went earthward.  He caught a touch of starlight glinting off of the silver flute in Pippin’s hand.  He could still hear its melody in his head.  It seemed to still hold him in its melancholy spell.

“Where did you get that flute, Pip?”

“Gandalf gave it to me shortly before the siege began in Minas Tirith.”

“Really?  I have never seen you with it before, nor have I heard you playing it before tonight . . . yet . . . the music you played somehow seems to be so familiar to me, as if I have heard it many times before.”

Pippin smiled at Merry. “Maybe that is because you really did hear it many times already. This is a very special flute.”

***********

Pippin looked at the silver flute in his hands as he gently caressed the cool, glittering surface.

“A special flute, Gandalf?  It is beautiful, but why is it special?”

Gandalf knelt down in front of the Hobbit and put both his hands on the lad’s shoulders.  Guilt started to float through him as he looked into the eyes of his young friend.  He saw heaviness and sadness in them. These were eyes that had seen fighting and terror. These were now the eyes of a soldier.

He remembered the past, when a happy little Hobbit lad had jumped laughing into his arms, his head full of mischief and his trouser pockets full of dainty morsels that he should not have.  In his memory the youngsters’ eyes were filled with dancing sunlight.

Gandalf sighed and Pippin looked at him questioningly.

“Gandalf?”

“It’s nothing, my lad. It is alright. I was just thinking about something.”

“This flute,” Gandalf came back to the original topic, “is something very special, because it plays what you feel in your heart.  Also, anyone whose heart is bound with yours can hear the music over any distance, no matter if there are mountains or ravines, or yes, even oceans between your hearts . . . the music of this flute will find its way.

Pippin stared at the flute in wonder.

“Does that mean that . . .”

Gandalf nodded.

“Yes. Through the music you play on this flute you will always be with Merry or Frodo or Sam, or with anyone else who is dear to you and you to them.”

**********

Tears were standing in Merry’s eyes.

“Now I remember.” He whispered, awe touching his voice.  “Yes. I have heard it in my dreams, and it was with me when I was riding into war.”

He faltered.

“You were with me.”

Pippin smiled at his cousin.

“Yes . . . . and-and . . . maybe . . .”

“Maybe Frodo can hear it too, there, where he is now?”  Merry asked.

Pippin nodded, but then blushed as he looked to the ground.

“That’s foolish of me, isn’t it?  Gandalf said that distance would not matter, but Frodo is not even in Middle Earth any longer.  How could he . . .”

Suddenly Pippin stopped and listened.  His eyes grew huge as he faintly heard a happy melody, like a memory of happy days, floating to his ears on the breath of the wind.

“Merry, can it be? Is that . . .”

Merry laughed.  “Frodo!” he cried.  “Yes Pippin, it is Frodo.”

Pippins heart gave a happy jump. He put the flute to his lips and started to play a lively little tune.  On the other side of the ocean, and beyond, Frodo laughed happily as he looked gratefully up at Gandalf.

“Thank you, my friend,” He said before putting the flute again to his lips, once more joining Pippin in their song.

Gandalf smiled and far away in Bag End, a smile was brightening the peacefully sleeping face of Sam as a softly hummed melody floated off his lips.

The End

AN: On the Yahoo group http://groups.yahoo.com/group/LOTR_Community_GFIC/ under Files/ Goldens Stories you can find an "amateur audio book" of this story, that includes the melody Pippin is playing for Frodo and other music. Borrowed from an ST episode and a scottish Cd, that I found fitting for my needs. ;)