Title:  For Though the Stones Be Lost

Summary:  Pippin and Frodo discuss the effects of the Ring and the Palantir.

Disclaimer:  They aren't mine, they're Tolkien's.

Archive:  not without permission, thank you

A/N:

This second chapter is a continuation of Pippin's experience with the palantir.

This story is complete.  I haven't quite figured out how to change the In Progress to Completed yet.  Heh.

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"Frodo?"  Pippin stood hesitantly in the doorway.  "How is he?  Is he…"

Frodo beckoned his cousin inside.  "Aragorn said that he will recover, Pip," he said.  "Do not worry, he is only in a deep sleep."

Pippin sighed and sat down next to Frodo.  "That's a relief," he said.  "I don't think I could bear it otherwise."

Frodo sat quietly by the bed.  "Neither could I," he said softly.

Pippin looked at Sam lying peacefully in the bed.  "He's been through a lot, hasn't he?  Strider said he went without water or food for far too long."

Frodo said softly again, "Yes, he did.  But he has a stout heart."  Frodo rubbed his hand over his eyes and sighed.

Pippin looked keenly at Frodo.  "And what of you cousin?" he asked.  "How are you faring?"

Frodo sat still and kept his eyes on Sam.  "I don't really know how to answer that, Pippin," he said slowly.  "I don't remember much, it seems.  I suppose I am fine."

Pippin wasn't convinced.  "You don't look it," he said.  "Oh, I mean you look fine physically, except for your hand of course, but there's something about you that seems…lost."

Frodo said nothing for a long time.  "Yes," he finally answered.  "I do feel lost.  Bereft, almost.  The Ring haunts me…even though it is destroyed."  Frodo looked over at Pippin sadly.  "I still want it," he whispered. 

Pippin said gently to Frodo, "I think I know."  He gazed across the room, thoughtful.

"No, you don't," Frodo said sharply.  Pippin looked back at him, surprised.  Immediately Frodo was remorseful and grabbed Pippin's hands.  "I'm sorry," he said, looking at him.  "It seems the Ring isn't done with me yet.  I do not mean to speak that way to you."  Frodo looked back at Sam.  "But you really don't know, Pip.  You don't know what it is like to be so dependent on such an object, one that doesn't even offer you comfort or peace.  Instead it turns you into a monster…someone who cannot recognize friend from foe.  And yet," he said sadly, "I still desire it, above all things." 

Pippin felt tears gather in his eyes and tightly gripped Frodo's hands.  "But," he said, "I do know."  He looked away.  "You know I looked in a palantir, Frodo.  I wanted to see a pretty thing, and instead, He saw me.  I had only wanted one look.  Gandalf had been so close, and I was so scared, and I thought that perhaps the palantir could show me what was happening.  But there was more to it than that.  It drew me, somehow.  Please understand," he said, suddenly looking back at Frodo, "Gandalf was right.  I knew what I was doing, and I even told myself it was wrong, and I didn't listen.  But there was also something else that was drawing me to it…beckoning me, almost.  Oh, I can't explain it."  Pippin looked down at his feet.

Frodo smiled, tears in his eyes.  "You silly Took," he said fondly.  "Do you really think it's the same?  You could escape from the palantir—indeed you did, with Gandalf's help.  I could not escape the Ring, even at the last.  It had too firm a hold on me."

"It's your turn to not understand, Frodo," Pippin said hotly, wiping his eyes.  "I didn't say I knew all that you went through, only that I understood the desire.  When Lord Denethor revealed his palantir in the House of the Stewards, I caught a glimpse of it in his hands.  It glowed a deep red, and I saw myself sitting in the dark, hunched over like a miscreant child, hoping and wishing to see some grand wonder."  Pippin gave a sort of half-laugh.  "That desire took me by complete surprise.  I thought I was over that silliness.  But apparently not…even now I want another glimpse at one."

Frodo was silent.  Perhaps the young hobbit did understand, somewhat.  "I think I see your point, Pippin," Frodo said at last.  "We have both been touched by something we wish had never come to us.  But I'm still not sure that you really understand my thoughts."

Pippin suddenly laughed, the sound of it ringing through the clear air like a bell. "When did I ever, cousin?  You always were so far above me!"  He gave Frodo a cheeky grin.

Frodo started to laugh along with his cousin.  It felt good.  It had been so long.

As Pippin looked at Frodo a realization dawned upon him.  Merry had been hurt badly by the Nazgul, Pippin had been touched by a malevolent will, and Sam had been scarred by the fire and smoke of Mount Doom.  But Frodo…Frodo had all these things happen to him.  Pippin felt tears gather in his eyes again.  To have gone through so much…

"You know Frodo," he said, clearing his throat and blinking his eyes, "I don't think we've sung a hobbit drinking song in many an age.  What do you say we sing one now, for Sam?"

"Do you think he would hear it?" Frodo asked, a little bemused.

"Well," Pippin faltered, "Perhaps."  He looked at Sam.  "We should at least try, at any rate."

Frodo gazed fondly at his cousin.  "Then I believe that is an excellent idea, Pippin.  You begin."

Everyone who walked by the room that night felt their spirits lifted as the sweet sound of hobbit singing and laughter echoed in the air.