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By: Dana
Chapter XIV: The Field of Cormallen
It had begged him, when they'd come to the end – begged him to save it, to not let It die. And Pippin would have saved it, if that had been possible. But then, he would have saved Gollum too, and that had all ended in ruin, hadn't it? He clutched at Frodo, then at Merry, and knew that they would die here. But at least he would not die alone. 'Not here,' Merry said, rousing him from the tumult of his thoughts. 'Let us go down the path a bit, but let's not stay here. We'll not run from our ruin, but...' He left it at that. Pippin nodded, and stood, and Frodo did as well, Pippin clutching at Frodo's hand, as though he would stop the flow of blood himself. He thought he might be bleeding himself – he must have injured himself when he jumped after Gollum, though he couldn't be certain. It was all so terrible, thinking of it, and Pippin held onto him as they went on. They went from the tunnel, went out to the darkness beyond. The Mountain was quaking, and though Pippin thought that he should stagger, he felt strangely calm. He had come to what was meant – he could not run from it, not now. But he never would have run from it, would he? No, this was where he was meant to be, at least it was, now. Above them, a mass of steam and smoke belched out from the top of the Mountain, and the side of it was split, and fire came out, a slow and thunderous cascade, down the eastern side of the mountain. They went until they could no more, until their strength gave out, for good, at long last. They had gone down as far as they could, almost to the foot of the Mountain, holding onto one another – but at last, clinging, they fell to the ground. There was nothing else. The Mountain was breaking. The world was coming to ruin. Pippin had seen this as their ending, and as he felt the Mountain breaking, Pippin remained calm. It would happen, soon, and the fire would consume them, and even now they were blanketed beneath the ash. But he clutched at Frodo, and at Merry, and would not have wanted to be any other place, right at that time. He bent his cheek against Merry's, and he stroked Frodo's hand, and he smiled even though there was nothing about that which should have made him smile; no, he could barely breathe, and the heat was unbearable, and he would die now. But he knew he'd not die alone. 'You shouldn't be here,' said Frodo, though perhaps that was Pippin's imagination, or a dream; perhaps they were dead already, all three of them. 'Either of you, you shouldn't be here. I never should have allowed you along.' Pippin reached for him, took hold of Frodo's injured hand, then rested it against his chest; and he felt Merry's hand as well, and then Pippin smiled at Frodo. But Frodo's eyes were desperate and wide. 'Forgive me,' he said, and then his voice cracked. If not for the heat, perhaps he might have wept. Pippin pressed his brow against Frodo's temple. 'Frodo, dearest Frodo, I think you know that I would not have it any other way. What say you, Merry?' And he looked at Merry, and surely Merry would have wept as well, if he had been able. 'No, I'd rather not be any other place. You're quite stuck with us, Frodo.' Frodo shook as if to laugh, at the absurdity of that – but then he relaxed himself into their embrace. Then Pippin felt darkness fall, smothering him, and pain through him – though that might have been the heat, might have been the ash. He could breathe no more, and there was nothing else, nothing else but darkness, and Pippin found himself at peace: if this was how he had guessed that it would end, he could no longer tell. He cast that thought away, or perhaps it did so with a will of its own: and he thought, sinking into darkness, and into the end, that he heard it laugh a little, as it went away. Then he was thought alone, and even that fluttered away into nothing. Then Pippin awoke, and found that he was lying on a soft bed of some sort, and there was a sweet scent in the air. He opened his eyes wide, and heard his name called, and though he could see, there was nothing in that moment that he wished to see: and so he sank once more into sleep. He awoke again, and breathed in the fresh, sweet scent of the air, and recognised that he was in Ithilien, and he felt a burning in his eyes; and then the fall of his tears, though he did not openly weep. If this was death, then it was unexpected. But he was no longer worn. Pippin could not force himself back to sleep, and so he looked. But that was well enough. He sat up suddenly, and realised that it had been no dream. He was alive, and he was well or at least well enough, and it seemed that he was whole. He looked down at himself, at his arms – long bandages covered both of them, though his hands were uncovered, and he could not recall how he had injured himself in such a fashion. He looked up, and his eyes went wide – he opened his mouth to speak, and his voice cracked as he did: 'Gandalf?' he said, looking at him, a marvel in white, gleaming like snow or something else so very pristine. No, perhaps Pippin was in fact dead, and Gandalf was as well, and Gandalf was there to meet him. Pippin almost wept, or at least, he almost thought he might sob in relief, or some other faded joy. 'Good morning, Peregrin Took. How do you feel?' Pippin smiled and then he found that he wept. Shaking, he buried his face in his hands. 'Where are they?' he gasped, shuddering – he felt Gandalf's arm go about him, and then Gandalf gentled him. 'They are well, dear lad, though they have been awake longer than you have – Merry, for four days now, and Frodo for only two – but they are well, and they are with Legolas and Gimli, sitting out in the sunlight. Would you like to join them or would you rather them join you here?' His voice was kind, and gentle, and deep as age. 'What do you say?' It all came falling down, and Pippin opened his mouth to answer Gandalf, yes, he wanted to go to them, though he wanted to know what had brought Gandalf here – hadn't be been dead? But then, hadn't they all been dead? Pippin was almost certain he remembered that, and clearly, the feeling of having died. Instead, he shook and he sobbed and he buried his face against Gandalf's arm, trembling as he wept, but finding some small measure of peace in it, in giving voice to his grief, and his confusion, and his relief. Gandalf murmured soft things, and rubbed his back. 'I am sorry, Peregrin, I am,' he thought he heard Gandalf say. 'While the great end came to pass as it has, I am not certain it all happened as it was meant.' But perhaps that was Pippin's imagination, playing games on him, and Pippin wept until his eyes were dry, til they burned at the thought of shedding another tear, until his throat was sore: and still, he found he felt rather well. Then he sat back, looked at Gandalf. 'I'm thirsty now,' he said. 'And I want to see my cousins.' He was tired, but he did not think that he could sleep; he felt as though he had slept enough, anyhow, and he felt strange and almost empty, but he would not believe that Frodo and Merry were well until he saw them himself. 'Rest, Pippin – you have earned that, at least. I will bring them here. But rest.' Pippin protested – he wasn't tired, after all – but at Gandalf's words, he sank into sleep once more, though it did not last as long as it had, the times before. He woke and he heard a beloved voice, and he gasped and cried and then he reached for Frodo, and took hold of his hand. It was bandaged, he saw that at first, and then he looked into the lean lines of Frodo's face, worn but beautiful. 'You're alive,' he said, and he almost wept from the joy of it. 'O, Merry, there you are as well – how is this even possible? I thought we all had died.' So Merry told Pippin what had happened, about the Eagles, and how they had come to the Mountain, and just in time; they had carried them away. 'What day is it, then?' Pippin asked. 'And where are we, anyhow?' 'Gandalf would say, the eighteenth of the New Year – but you'd be more familiar with this, it being the twelfth of April, in the Shire reckoning. As for where we are, we are in Ithilien, though perhaps you knew that already.' Merry smiled, shadow gone from his eyes. 'You'll meet the King soon, though you've met him already. Well, you'll see that soon enough.' Pippin, shaking, grabbed hold of Merry, and hugged him, and then he laughed aloud, kissed him and then Frodo, and then he began to cry, and as he wept, he kissed them again, each in turn, grasping at them both, as though he did not wish for this moment to ever end. But moments were made for ending, and so he could only hold on so long. They were all crying on each other, and a thought came at last to Pippin. He remembered something, from his long days of sleeping, a song that had gone on without end. 'Where's Sam?' 'You'll see him soon enough,' said Gandalf. 'He is with the King, but soon he will return – he is a great hero, you should know, though he is neither the least nor the greatest of them. But he is in good company, I think.' It all seemed so impossible, and so Pippin went on. 'I thought the world had ended. But here I am, to find instead that it's not. Instead, it's all changed and seems impossibly bright. But I can't say I'm not happy with it.' Pippin looked at Frodo and Merry in amazement, though he looked in wonder at Gandalf as well. They should all be dead, or at least he had thought they all were dead. But here they were. He hugged Frodo, and Frodo laughed and Pippin thought, it was the most beautiful thing that he had ever heard. He rested his head against Frodo's shoulder, and he shook as he wept, but now he wept for joy – and he hadn't ever been so glad. But after that, while they sat together, he said, 'I'm thirsty still,' and Gandalf laughed and it was like song. 'Let me fetch that for you, then,' he said, 'and perhaps a bite to eat. Your cousins have had a bit for first and second breakfast, already, and I've no doubt you'll not want to catch up.' He wanted to know everything, and so he questioned Merry and Frodo now that Gandalf was gone – but they could not tell him anything, not really, save for the miracle of their waking, what remained of their Company having gathered in Ithilien, at the Field of Cormallen. They had been waiting, waiting for Pippin to awake. And finally, he had. Frodo seemed distant, like the frayed and faded edges of a half-forgotten dream, but he smiled, and there was light in his eyes. And Merry watched Pippin, perhaps more intently that Pippin had watched Merry (or only as intently as Pippin studied Frodo), and his eyes said more than words might have, as Merry sat, his hand on Pippin's arm, or, at a different moment, he combed his fingers through Pippin's hair. And his eyes said, 'Are you well, Pippin? Truly well?' But Merry himself did not speak, and his smile was a tired sort, beautiful but so very weary: and in the light of Ithilien, Pippin did not think Merry could be more beautiful, ever (Merry had never been one to call himself such). 'Gandalf said, a great Shadow has departed,' said Merry. 'That is, when first I woke. You woke the same day as I, you know, but then you went right back to sleep. Gandalf said you needed the healing. Aragorn told us not to worry, though, I worried anyhow.' Merry grinned. Pippin touched his face, pressed his forehead against Merry's, and he laughed softly, then kissed Merry's mouth. He leaned back, and he stroked Merry's cheek. Merry would have worried, but not only for him, for Frodo, too. And Pippin thought, he still needed to see Sam, and he almost thought some great truth was being kept from him. He supposed he might have questioned them with more enthusiasm, at some other time – but at this specific time, he did not much feel it in him. Gandalf came back, and Pippin had water, and there was a bit to eat – bread, and broth, and Gandalf said that soon they would be going. They were off to meet the King. 'The King? You keep mentioning him but you haven't told me who he is. Who is he, then?' 'The King of Gondor and Lord of the Western Lands,' said Gandalf 'and he has taken back all his ancient realm. He will ride soon to his crowning, but he waits for you.' So Pippin had his drink, and a bit of food, and then after that they washed and were clad in the Orc-things they had worn into the heart of Mordor, and then they ate again, and Frodo and Merry joined him properly, that time. After that, Merry holding Pippin's hand, and Frodo at the other side of Merry, they followed after Gandalf. There were still so many questions that Pippin wanted to ask, though this hardly seemed the proper time. Beyond the little tent, in its grove of beech trees, Spring was full in bloom; Pippin heard the sound of falling water, not far off, and all was green and lovely, and the air was fresh and bright. There was a little stream, and Pippin looked about in wonder, and let Merry guide him. They came at last to the ending of the wood, and stepped out into bright sun. There were knights in bright mail and tall guards in silver and black, waiting on them, beyond the wood – Pippin gaped, and looked about, though Frodo and Merry seemed equally surprised. They were only hobbits after all, three small hobbits, but these Men greeted them with great honour; and then they bowed. Pippin felt a creeping heat upon his cheeks. Then, one of the Men blew a long trumpet, and it rung overhead, and startled birds into flight. The hobbits went on, with Gandalf leading them, and Pippin looked about in continued wonder. It seemed the world had not, in fact, come to ruin, and all seemed very bright. They went on, to a wide spread of green, beneath the sun, and a river, glowing silver. There was a long, wooded isle, and many ships lay by its shores; but Pippin looked to the field before them, and gaped at what he saw. He shut his mouth, presently. He did not want to look like a fish out of water, and in front of such an assembly, after all. Gandalf led them on, and as the hobbits approached, swords were unsheathed, and spears were shaken, all very bright and glittering in the sun; and horns and trumpets sang, and Men cried in many voices, and in many tongues:
'Long live the Halflings! Praise them with great praise! Pippin felt tears in his eyes. Looking sideways at Merry, he saw that he was not the only one who was now blushing, and knowing Frodo, he burned crimson as well. So they went on, and all of them shining with wonder, and they went forward and saw that amidst the clamorous host there was were set three high-seats built of green turves. Behind the seat upon the right floated, white on green, a great horse running free; upon the left was a banner, silver upon blue, a ship swan-prowed faring on the sea; but behind the highest throne in the midst of all a great standard was spread in the breeze, and there a white tree flowered upon a sable field beneath a shining crown and seven glittering stars. On the throne sat a mail-clad man, a great sword was laid across his knees, but he wore no helm. As they drew near he rose. And then they knew him, changed as he was, so high and glad of face, kingly, lord of Men, dark-haired with eyes of grey. Frodo gasped and then ran to meet him, and Merry and Pippin ran after him, once the moment had caught up with them. 'Aragorn!' Pippin exclaimed, 'Aragorn, it's you!' Aragorn smiled, his eyes glinting brightly, and Pippin wondered if ever he had looked on so noble a face. Aragorn had come to greet them, and then in some greater wonder, (which added to Pippin's surprise and to his confusion, as well), Aragorn went down on one knee. 'Strider, you shouldn't kneel – ' he snapped, but then he blushed harder, at the look Aragorn gave him, and the way he smiled. He took Pippin's hand, and one of Frodo's, as well, and then he inclined his head at Merry. Then Aragorn stood and led them to the throne, Frodo on his right and Pippin on his left, and Pippin still holding Merry's hand. Then Aragorn bid him sit, and Pippin found himself more thoroughly confused; then, Aragorn turned to the Men and Captains who stood by and spoke, so that his voice ran out all the host, crying: 'Praise them with great praise!' It seemed like madness, but it was a happy madness – once more, tears were gathered in Pippin's eyes, though they did not fall. Then, as though he had not seen enough wonders for once, a minstrel came forth, and knelt, and begged leave to sing. And he said: 'Lo! lords and knights and men of valour unashamed, kings and princes, and fair people of Gondor, and Riders of Rohan, and ye sons of Elrond, and Dúnedain of the North, and Elf and Dwarf, and greathearts of the Shire, and all free folk of the West, now listen to my lay. For I will sing to you of Frodo of the Nine Fingers and the Ring of Doom.' At that, Pippin almost laughed, but instead he smiled and he gave Merry's hand a fierce squeeze; and if his cheeks were wet with tears, they were happy ones, impossibly happy tears; for he had readied himself for death, and this was all very mad, and wonderful, and very, very strange. He was not the only one who wept, for there were those in the gathered host so moved they wept as well; and Merry's tears were falling fast, and Frodo's cheeks were wet as well, and still red. The voice of the minstrel rose up, and Pippin felt his heart rise in wonder; and then, he wondered where Sam had got to. He should have been here, after all, if he had already been with the King. Then that thought passed, and the minstrel's voice went on, the mingled beauty of silver and gold; he sang in many tongues, a number of them that Pippin could not understand, and it was so very beautiful, though not the most beautiful thing that he had ever heard; still, he almost choked upon his tears. And at the last, as the Sun fell from the noon and the shadows of the trees lengthened, he ended. 'Praise them with great praise!' he said and knelt. And then Aragorn stood up, and all the host arose, and they passed to pavilions made ready, to eat and drink and make merry while the day lasted. Pippin, Merry and Frodo were led apart and then brought to a tent, where they were given proper clothing, though Pippin noticed that the Orc-rags were taken, and put aside, having been folded with great honour. That, he could not understand, and he did not want to; at least, not yet. Then, Gandalf came to them once more, and he bore with him the items that had been stolen from Pippin and Frodo, at the edge of Mordor; their elven-cloaks, and their swords as well. For Merry, he brought coats of gilded mail for Pippin and Merry, and Merry's elven-cloak all healed of the soils and hurts that it had suffered; and then he laid before them three swords. 'I do not wish for any sword,' said Frodo. 'Tonight at least you should wear one,' said Gandalf. Then Frodo took the small sword that had belonged to Merry, and had been laid at his side in Cirith Ungol. He stood as if in thought, and then he shook his head. 'I gave Sting to Merry, Gandalf – he should bear it, now.' 'But it was yours first, Frodo,' Merry protested. 'And I think, no, I'm certain that he would rather you wear it, now.' He must have meant Bilbo, thought Pippin, though he did not mention him by name. Frodo furrowed his brow; but then he gave way. Then Gandalf, as if he were their esquire, out of some strange tale, knelt and girt the sword-belts about them, and then rising he set circles of silver upon their heads. Pippin touched his, in quiet wonder, and caught the edge of Gandalf's smile. He smiled in return. 'Now, we shall go,' said Gandalf, and they followed him once more. They went to a great gathering, a great feast; and they were to sit at the King's table with Gandalf, and King Éomer of Rohan, and the Prince Imrahil and all the chief captains; and there also were Gimli and Legolas. And then Pippin's eyes brightened. There was Sam as well! He thought it sly of Gandalf, to bring them all back together like this, and them not having any time to talk at length; but Sam had spoke with Frodo and Merry already, and though he embraced Frodo and there were tears in his eyes, when he saw Pippin; at Pippin's approach, Sam gathered Pippin into his arms and Pippin felt crushed against Sam's chest. Then, in amazement, he said, 'You're taller!', as if in accusation, and all Sam could do was grin at him. 'We ought to sit now, sir – we'll talk at length, once we've eaten.' Pippin realised then that they were being waited on, and blushing once more, he took his seat and Sam his as well, and Pippin smiled all the while. After all that, when the glad day had ended, Pippin took Sam by the hand and looked sharply at him. 'It isn't fair, you've gone and told Frodo and Merry everything, but I'm the one who's been left out in the cold. What have you been up to, Samwise Gamgee?' Sam smiled, and gave a small shrug. 'Well now, Master Pippin, I only did as I ought to; leastwise, as best as I could, given the path that I was upon.' 'Yes, well. But you're taller now. You weren't this tall before, I'm almost certain – you're too old for a growth spurt, at any length. What haven't you told me, Sam?' Sam told him of the Ents, and Frodo and Merry listened as well, and they sat beside the River and the Sun sank into darkness, and then the Moon slowly rose into the sky; Sam told Pippin of Gondor, and Frodo and Merry listened as well, though Pippin guessed that they had heard this all, already. Sam told them of the great siege, and of the Lord Denethor as well – 'I'm hoping you'll be meeting him, and soon – he is a great Man, and our Boromir's father, and Lord Faramir's as well.' – but there were things that Sam hadn't told them, but Pippin understood. Gandalf was there as well, and Legolas and Gimli, and finally they knew what had happened to their Company, that evil day at Parth Galen; and Pippin's heart ached, and he thought of Boromir. He felt tears in his eyes, but then he wiped them away. 'I thought of Boromir,' he said, when Merry looked at him in question. 'Here we all are, and the day does seem to be a happy once, but Boromir's gone and he'll not return.' Then he smiled, and he looked at Sam. 'I would be glad to meet the Lord Denethor, Sam, and soon – as soon as we are able.' They spoke of other things, and late into the night; but then Gandalf bid them all return to their beds; Frodo and Merry were only days from their bed, and this was the first that Pippin had risen from his. They made their farewells, but it was a happy parting, and Sam led Frodo, Merry and Pippin, back to their beds; and he stayed with them, as Frodo said that it had been too long since they had all been together. And Sam, tears glittering in his eyes, was happy to stay. 'I missed you, Mr. Frodo,' he said, 'but then, I told you that before. I'm glad your cousins here took as good a care of you as they had. Elsewise, they'd have Samwise Gamgee to reckon with.' At that, there was laughter, and they all embraced; and they had come to a happy ending, the happiest they could be. Pippin had asked so many things, and almost all of his questions had been given answers; but not all of them, and not yet. Well, there'd be time enough for all of that.
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