Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search
swiss replica watches replica watches uk Replica Rolex DateJust Watches

Turning Points  by cathleen

Chapter Two

“Eyes of Blue, Eyes of Fire”

 

 

Noooooo!” Pippin wailed as he dropped to his knees. His entire body shook for a moment before he crumpled over and lay still.  

Frodo was at his little cousin’s side in a flash; it was almost as if he had expected something to happen. Behind him, Paladin and Eglantine hurried to join him, Merry and others close behind them. Pippin lay still on the ground, finally opening his eyes at his mother’s touch and the comforting sound of her voice. Frodo cradled his head in his lap, gently brushing back the soft curls from Pippin’s sweaty brow and murmuring softly. Pippin stared up at him, his mouth slightly open, eyes not quite focused. Frodo smiled down at him.

“What happened?” Pippin whispered.

“I think you swooned,” Frodo said. Pippin struggled to sit up and Frodo helped him.

Paladin knelt and pulled his son into his arms. “Are you all right, lad?” He studied Pippin with a worried frown, his face pale.

“Oh, my! That scream fair stole my very breath away,” Eglantine fretted, as she too knelt beside them.

“Pip, what happened?” Merry leaned over, hands on his knees and looked directly into his cousin’s strained face. “My story wasn’t that scary,” he teased, trying to lighten the mood and dispel his own fear. Pippin peered up at him.

“Merry?” Pippin felt as if he were waking from a dream. He gazed about in confusion at the alarmed faces of his family, all of them huddled around him now.

Pearl crouched on the ground next to her father. She reached out to stroke his cheek and spoke softly to him, “Pippin? Are you all right?”

“Pearl?” Pippin looked bewildered. “What happened?” he asked again.

“I don’t know, lad. It looked as if you swooned dead away. But you’re all right now, I’m certain.” Pearl’s voice was shaky, betraying her apparent confidence.

Pippin looked up at his other sisters as if for confirmation. Pimpernel nodded, her hand squeezing Pervinca’s shoulder.

“What is it, Pip?” Merry squatted next to his uncle, who still hugged Pippin to him. He reached over and brushed his cousin’s hair back. Pippin continued to gape at him as if he wasn’t certain Merry was real.

“Merry?” He asked again and extended a hand as his father lifted him up. His fingertips brushed against Merry’s as his older cousin reached for him.

Paladin shook his head and rose carefully, holding the small lad firmly against his chest. “I’m taking him inside.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, Pad,” Eglantine hurried after her husband. “I want to look him over.”

“I’ll come with you.” Frodo stood and brushed the dirt from his trousers before he followed.

“So will I!” Merry declared and started to join them.

Saradoc snagged one of Merry’s braces as he scurried by. “Hold on there, lad!” Merry spun around, surprised. “You wait here with the rest of us,” he told his son firmly.

“But, I want to make sure he’s all right! Da--”

Saradoc shook his head. Esmeralda put an arm around her son. “I’ll go in and see what’s what. Your father’s right. You stay put.” Merry nodded his head unhappily but didn’t argue any further.

The others milled about the big bonfire, murmuring their concern and questions to one another. Milo Chubb tilted his head towards the farmhouse. “What do you think that was all about, Doc?”

“I’m not quite sure. We all know the lad has a rather vivid imagination, but I don’t think anyone was expecting a reaction like that.” Saradoc scratched his head, thinking. “Perhaps he just got a bit too caught up in the tale.”

“Aye, you’re probably right. Maybe he was only trying to play up the dramatics, frighten the other children.”

Merry listened to his father and Mr. Chubb while they continued to speculate. Something told him they were dead wrong in their assumptions. Pippin had been awfully moody lately and Merry wasn’t certain exactly what was going on. But he’d be willing to wager that what had just occurred had to do with his cousin’s increasingly shifting disposition, not with playacting. True, Pippin loved attention, and being in the middle of whatever was happening. However, he also was a polite and considerate lad and Merry doubted he would have disrupted the story solely for the purpose of calling attention to himself. Something just didn’t feelright. Estella joined him and took his arm, drawing him along with her.

“Merry, come and sit with me. Your aunt and uncle will get everything all sorted out. Try not to worry so much.” With another reluctant glance over his shoulder, Merry allowed himself to be led away.  

******

Inside the farmhouse Paladin deposited Pippin gently on a chair at the table and turned the lamp up. Frodo hurried in to join them, allowing the door to bang shut behind him in his haste. Eglantine was busy wetting a cloth with cool water. She squeezed it out and hastened to place it against her son’s face. Pippin gasped at the cold against his brow and he batted his mother’s hand away.

“Shh, now my little love. Let your mum tend to you, there’s a good lad.” Pippin calmed as Eglantine soothed, continuing to talk softly to him while she wiped his face with the cool cloth.

Paladin looked up when he heard the door open quietly behind him. His sister watched the scene thoughtfully from the doorway. He beckoned her to his side. “Are you all right, Pad?” Esmeralda placed an arm around his waist.

He nodded, and returned the hug gratefully, and then turned his attention back to his wife and son. Eglantine was now busy looking Pippin over from head to toe in order to satisfy herself that he had indeed come to no harm.

“Well now, young sir. It would seem that you are whole and well, to be sure.” She fussed over him a little more and Pippin began to protest the attention. She stood back with hands on hips and pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Now, can you tell us just what that was all about?”

Pippin squirmed in his chair and eyed his audience awkwardly. This was one time when he didn’t feel like being the centre of attention. Finally he shrugged. “I don’t know,” he told them simply. “I… I guess I just swooned like Frodo said.”

“I don’t recall that ever happening before. Are you certain you’re not feeling ill?” Eglantine placed the back of her hand against his forehead.

“No!” Pippin scowled and shrugged away, irritated. “I said I wasn’t, didn’t I?” He looked around the room, pointedly ignoring them all.

Paladin’s eyes narrowed. “Peregrin, there’s no call for you to be rude to your mother.”

Pippin didn’t answer. He folded his arms defiantly and studied a picture on the wall as if it held great fascination for him. A hush fell over the room. Pippin continued to ignore everyone, and began to thump the chair leg with the back of his heel, frowning. Paladin and Eglantine exchanged questioning looks, while Esmeralda stood to one side appearing to contemplate her nephew’s actions thoughtfully.

Frodo leaned against the sideboard and observed the scene, wondering who was going to be the first to break the silence. Once again, he had a strong feeling about what might have caused part of the problem.

During the extended quiet, the continued merriment of the partygoers reached their ears, as things seemed to return to normal outside. Pippin stared out the window for a few moments, frowning, and finally turned to his parents. “I want to go back to the party,” he stated flatly, avoiding eye contact with them.

“Well,” began Eglantine doubtfully.

Paladin shook his head firmly. “No, son. The celebration is over. The storytelling was the last part of the festivities anyway. I think perhaps you’ve had enough excitement for today.”

“What? No, there was supposed to be a great deal more storytelling!”

Paladin shook his head again. “It’s time for bed now. For everyone.” He turned to his sister. “Esmie, will you help me? I’m going out to tell the others we’re calling it a night. We’ll need to make sure our guests know where they’ll be sleeping.”

Esmeralda nodded and pressed her hand against Eglantine’s arm. “Of course Pad. Tina, don’t worry, Sara and I will get everyone seen to. You just go ahead and tend to your little lad while we--”

“I’m not a ‘little lad’ anymore, Auntie Esmie!” Pippin leaped from his chair and stamped one foot down hard on the floor to make his point. He glared at his aunt. His behaviour was met with shocked silence.

Frodo’s eyes widened at his cousin’s outburst. “Pippin, that wasn’t very nice.”

“No indeed, it wasn’t, and your actions are speaking much louder than your words at the moment, m’lad,” Eglantine admonished her son.

“Apologise to your aunt, Peregrin.” Paladin’s voice was flat and he eyed his son with a no-nonsense frown.

Frodo observed the mighty battle of emotion that was being played out on Pippin’s face. An odd mixture of belligerence and anger appeared to war against a backdrop of shame and regret as his cousin obviously struggled with his decision. Frodo hoped Pippin would apologise without any further prompting from Paladin. It wasn’t like him to react so strongly to the mild statement Esmeralda had made. Frodo again considered several possibilities for the unusual behaviour while they waited to see how the lad would respond to his father’s demand.

Pippin finally lowered his eyes and then flicked them up to his aunt’s face briefly. “I’m sorry, Auntie,” he whispered, before dropping his gaze to the floor again.

Esmeralda knelt and hugged him. “You need to get some sleep now, dear. Things will look better in the morning.” She stood and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll go tend to our guests now. Frodo? Would you care to help?”

Frodo followed her out, pausing to glance at his cousin. Pippin stood flushed and shame-faced, hands clasped behind his back in a pose of contrition, head bowed. Frodo smiled at him slightly as he closed the door.

“Is Pippin all right?” Merry called as he trotted towards his mother and Frodo.

Esmeralda nodded. “Yes, of course he is, dear. Now, we’re going to end the party and see everyone to bed. Be a good lad and help us, hmm?” Esmeralda patted her son’s shoulder as she hurried past him to find her husband.

Merry stared after her and then turned to Frodo. “What was that all about? Pippin doesn’t swoon! What exactly happened?”

“I’m not certain. It looked like he passed out. I’m going to have a talk with him later. Try not to worry so much, Merry.” Frodo also patted Merry on the shoulder and trailed after Esmeralda.

“Merry, you do worry too much about Pippin.” Estella was at his side again. “I’m sure the little rascal just wanted some attention, that’s all,” she chuckled.

Merry shook his head. “I don’t believe that ‘Stella. Something just isn’t sitting right with me about the whole thing.”

“Oh, come now! Pippin being dramatic isn’t anything new and you know it.”

Merry sighed. No one wanted to listen. That was fine, though. He would get to the bottom of this on his own.  

******

“Go on now and get ready for bed, son.” Eglantine spoke softly as she gave him a little nudge in the direction of his room. “Tomorrow’s a new day. I’ll come tuck you in after you’re in bed.”

Pippin halted at his mother’s words. His back stiffened. “I don’t need to be tucked in, Mum, I’m not a faunt. I amcapable of putting myself to bed, after all.” There was an edge in his voice that surprised Eglantine. She sighed a bit impatiently and started to reply when Paladin held up one hand to stop her.

“Pippin, turn around and look at us.”

Pippin hesitated briefly before obeying. Paladin lifted his son’s chin and studied his face intently before speaking. “We’ll discuss what occurred tonight on the morrow. Including your attitude and behaviour. Go to bed now, son. And ‘twould not do you any harm if you did a bit of thinking about your actions.” Paladin released him.

Pippin turned away without another word. Eglantine and Paladin watched him sprint down the long hall to his bedroom and push the door shut very firmly behind him. “Well now, and if that wasn’t the oddest reaction I’ve seen him have in quite a while.” Paladin sank into a chair.

“I know, Pad. I don’t know just what’s got into him lately. It seems to me he’s stewing over something, but I’m not certain just what it is.” Eglantine eyed the corridor for a moment longer before turning to the stove. She bustled about making a pot of tea while Paladin mused over the evening’s events.

He sighed finally and stood, stretching out his back. “I’m going to make sure everyone who’s staying the night knows where they’ll be sleeping.”

“All right dear. Let them know I’m making some tea.” Paladin waved a hand in acknowledgement as he trudged out.  

******  

The farmhouse had grown quiet at last. Pippin lay in his bed unable to sleep. He didn’t quite understand why some of the things the adults had said to him tonight had made him feel so angry. He also didn’t know just what had happened to him earlier, during the storytelling. It had all seemed so real to him at the time. What bothered him most was that he still felt he had actually seen that horrific pair of eyes on fire staring at him in the darkness. He shivered at the memory. But what did it mean? The dreams he’d been having lately had been very queer. He hadn’t even told Merry about them.

They weren’t all frightening. Some were even pleasant in an odd sort of way, but unlike anything he’d experienced before. What bothered him was the fact that he would sometimes recall part of the dream during the day because what he had dreamed would actually occur, at least in part. Snatches of conversation where he would know what the next sentence was, though he was not the one speaking, or scenes from places he’d visited in his dreams would occur within his day. None of it made sense to him. What would Merry think?

Pippin flipped onto his back and folded his hands underneath his head. He stared at the ceiling, his thoughts drifting back to the treasure hunt and the scent of roses. He recalled the way Marigold’s voice sounded when she spoke to him, and how shy he felt when she smiled at him. The softness of her skin when his hand brushed against hers as they both reached for the treasure they’d found at the same time. He had been courteous and offered the sweet to her, saying she had found it first. And then she had laughed in that musical voice and thanked him, her blue eyes twinkling merrily. Those eyes had appeared as bright as jewels when the firelight reflected off them as they sat in the circle with the others later. He couldn’t help smiling at his recollection. Marigold’s eyes were the same shade as the summer sky on a cloudless day. He’d never seen any that were prettier than hers. His smile became a broad grin as he lay in the dark, remembering.

Pippin knew he’d never felt this way before. It was another of the things he didn’t understand. After all, he’d never cared that much before whether Marigold, or any other lass for that matter, liked him or wanted to be near him. He’d watched Merry recently, growing more attached to Estella Bolger while leaving Pippin to his own devices ever more often when she was around. Oh, his cousin’s shameless flirting and showing off for that lass! Pippin scowled. He didn’t think she even liked him, but only tolerated him for Merry’s sake. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. Merry was too busy making eyes at her to realise what a fool he was making of himself.

But…oh, how he wished he could have flirted with Marigold the way Merry had with Estella. He sighed, recalling the way Sam had plunked himself down in between them for the storytelling, and how she hadn’t even taken notice of him after that. Hmph, why did he care, anyway? Pippin grunted and turned on his stomach, thumping the pillow into submission. Nothing was making any sense to him these days. And why had he let Aunt Esmie’s comment bother him so much? He’d very nearly got himself into trouble over that one. And now he would have to ‘discuss’ his behaviour with Mum and Da tomorrow. How was he going to explain anything to them when he didn’t understand it himself? Pippin sighed again and punched his pillow a couple more times before rolling onto his back. He stared up at the ceiling, ruminating darkly. Just when had everything got so confusing?

Finally having had enough of tossing about, he got up and crept down the hall to the room where Merry was sleeping. Careful not to wake the others sharing the room, Pippin climbed into bed with his cousin and tucked himself into a ball next to him. Merry stirred but did not awaken. Pippin, now feeling secure, fell asleep at last.  

******  

Merry woke much later to hear Pippin mumbling in his sleep. He couldn’t help smiling at finding him there. It wasn’t unusual for Pippin to wake in the night and slip into bed with him. Merry felt a strong wave of protectiveness for his younger cousin. He mulled over what Frodo had told him about Pippin’s actions when they were alone at last after the party. Merry puzzled over the scene by the bonfire, recalling the look on the small lad’s face when he had collapsed. It had seemed as if he were… watching something. Something only Pippin himself could see. Merry remembered the eerie look in his cousin’s eye in the seconds before he’d reacted so strongly to the story. Merry laid a comforting hand on him when Pippin began to get restless. In a moment the muttering stopped and soon both were sleeping peacefully.  

******  

Thunder rumbled in the distance, low and threatening. Pippin twitched in his sleep, his eyes darting back and forth beneath his eyelids. Another storm approached the farm as surely as another dream overtook the sensitive lad. He was wandering alone in the dim grey light of a predawn sky. The silence grew more oppressive as it stretched out before him like a road that grew ever longer as he travelled it. His feet felt heavier with each step, the way they did when he walked through the thick mud on the banks of the Brandywine River with Merry, after a hard rain. Each step he took sucked him deeper into the slippery muck, and he had to work harder to free his foot each time he lifted it. He listened intently, but the laughter of two carefree cousins was missing. There was only the exhausting, repetitive work of the journey, and the feeling he was making no progress.

He came upon a huge old tree and stopped, peering up into the wide canopy far, far above his head. Gnarly, twisted branches reached down to him as if in greeting. He grabbed hold of the lowest one and began to climb, settling at last upon a thick limb and huddling against the trunk. He surveyed the landscape with a critical eye. It seemed familiar, yet not. He was certain he was no longer on the riverbank near his cousin’s home, but where was he?

The smothering stillness ended abruptly as the wind picked up with a rush, scattering the dry leaves at the foot of the tree. He gripped the tree limb and tensed, waiting. Waiting for what, he wondered? The branches of the great tree trembled and the air blew cold in his face. He held on tighter, retreating into the thick leaves for shelter. Soon, the unwelcome grumble of thunder joined the storm in its intrusion into his sanctuary. He shuddered as it stung his ears, vying for attention along with the pouring rain and the rushing wind.

He became aware of a bonfire burning clean and bright far across the plain. When he looked again it was out of control, raging its way across the land. With each breath he took it drew closer to his hiding place, as if he were somehow attracting it to him, as if he were the cause of its fury. Then, the sound of a cold voice, droning on and on, merged with the increasing roar of the wind and the clash of thunder. Wide-eyed, he clambered to the ground and ran. The blaze accelerated and he tried to run faster, but with every step he fell back closer to its path. The smoke burned in his throat as he attempted to call for help; the forest burst into flames around him. A pair of burning eyes emerged from the darkness and held his in their captive stare. Trapped, terrified, Pippin raised his voice and howled…

“WHAT IN THE…!” Merry scrambled to his feet before he was fully awake. The sound of Pippin’s scream in his ear had catapulted him straight out of the bed. Across the room his cousins Merimas and Berilac also jerked awake at the cries of fright. Pippin huddled in a tight ball on the far corner of the bed, eyes wide and mouth twisted into a scream as he stared at some unseen terror. He wailed again. Merry jumped onto the bed and shook him. “Pippin! Wake up, you’re dreaming!”

Pippin shrank away at Merry’s touch. He stared at him with unseeing eyes and Merry shivered at the sight before shaking Pippin awake at last. A moment later the door to the room burst open and Frodo ran in, Paladin and Saradoc close behind him.

Pippin, fully awake now, stared about at his visitors before collapsing in a heap on the bed and immediately rolling into a tight ball. He wept; great wrenching sobs shook his small frame as if nothing in this world was capable of consoling him. Eglantine pushed her way into the room behind the others and hurried over to her son. She scooped him up and rocked him in her arms, murmuring softly to him. After a time his sobs began to lessen.

“Come, lads,” Paladin gestured. Taking one more look at the scene and feeling that his wife had things under control at last, Paladin led the others out of the room. Merry remained with his aunt. Sitting on the bed next to them, he stroked Pippin’s hair soothingly before lifting his own tear-filled eyes to Eglantine’s.

“What’s wrong with him, Aunt Tina?”

Eglantine continued to soothe her son, brushing back his hair and rocking him. She looked at her nephew, concern etched deeply on her tired face. “I don’t know, Merry. For the moment, it’s only a bad dream. As for the rest of tonight’s events…” her voice trailed off.

Merry had to agree. He didn’t understand what was happening either. But he intended to figure it out.

 

 





<< Back

Next >>

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List