Fic: Requiem (Lord of the Rings; Sam, Pippin)

[butterfly]

I'm not entirely sure of the dates and ages, so I've kept things vague. After I've had a proper look at the appendices, I may rewrite this to be more specific and accurate.

Requiem

"Sam!" The voice was a welcome one, the warm Tuckborough lilt pulling Sam out of his reverie. "Fancy running into you here, Master Gamgee."

"Aye, it's such a shock to find Samwise Gamgee puttering around the Bag End garden. I can see why you're in such a state, Master Pip," Sam said dryly, looking up from his work. He crooked an eyebrow questioningly, taking in the lad's rather beraggled appearance. "And why is the future Took and Thain over here in Hobbiton so early in the morning? Last I heard, you were off to Diamond's folks to settle arrangements."

"Should I even bother asking how you know that?" Pippin grumbled, settling on the ground, his movements terribly precise. Sam's heart twisted slightly at Pippin's unusual care... and yet, it weren't so unusual, not nowadays. It was just that Sam hadn't quite adjusted to this new, wounded Pippin - which was passing strange truly, seeing that he'd only really known the old Pippin to say 'good-morning' to or conspire with, in any case. "Is there anything that the esteemed Master of Bag End doesn't know?"

Sam flinched and Pippin immediately softened, shooting him a quiet look of apology, though strangely enough, Pippin managed to avoid meeting Sam's eyes. Pippin was certainly off, now Sam knew that for true - Pippin might have been careless before the journeys, but he'd never been cruel, and no amount of pain and hardship could have changed that about him.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I don't know why I said that." And Pippin's soft words caused another tightening twist in Sam's heart. Pippin sighed lightly, plucking a golden-hearted lily and twisting the stem about his fingers restlessly. Sam refrained from telling him to leave the plant in peace, because he could see that the lad - not a lad anymore, though, despite not yet being of age - he surely had something on his mind that was greater than a garden that would heal soon enough.

"Something's happened, I'm guessing." Sam said, reaching over to still Pippin's hand. "And it's something you don't feel right talking to Merry about. With our Mr. Frodo gone, this is the closest you can get to speaking to him."

Pippin let out a shaky breath, his hand twisting to hold onto Sam's. "I'm marrying Diamond Took, in but a few months' time."

"Isn't that what you wanted?" The flower was crushed between their palms now, and Pippin still couldn't seem to meet Sam's eyes. Sam ran his gaze over Pippin consideringly - Pippin's feet were truly filthy, as though he'd been walking since the last rain; his breeches had a tear just under the knee, and Sam could see a grimy scrape, so Pippin had fallen sometime in his walk, fallen and not cared about cleaning up; more than that, his face was pale and drawn, his hair uncombed and with more than a few leaves in it. Oh, but Pippin was a right mess, just like the lad he wasn't.

"It was," Pippin agreed, but there weren't a trace of happiness nor joy in his voice. "I want, Sam."

"What is it that you want, Master Pippin?" Sam asked cautiously. Now Pippin looked at him, a hint of a smile showing. It was a right shock, finally seeing Pippin's eyes straight-on. They were bright with unshed tears and a heaping of anguish behind them. Sam squeezed Pippin's hand reassuringly, his heart hoping that he could help this one.

"I want peace." Pippin looked down at their joined hands, his eyelashes catching the light of the morning sun. And Sam could feel his heart shudder to a near stop in his chest, because these words were ones that he'd heard before. Still, Master Pippin had the right to speak, and Sam had no right to do anything but be honored that he was the one being shared with. "I'm to be Thain, as you said, and I'll be tied to my land for a good long time. And... Sam? I want that. I want more responsibility than I can bear."

Sam didn't try to say anything to Pippin, just kept on holding his hand tight.

Pippin laughed, a shrill sound that chilled Sam's very bones. "Oh, Sam, I want to be able to put my sword up on the mantle and know that I'll only take it down for ceremony's sake. I want to know that the most I'll ever fear in life is a tumble down a hill or catching a chill in the rain. I want to be a Hobbit again."

Now, Sam did dare to speak, his free hand reaching out to brush a leaf or two from Pippin's hair. "And what are you now?"

"I wish I knew." Pippin's mouth turned, and this time he was the one to tighten his grip on Sam's hand. "I'm too big. Too different. Too changed. I want to be Pippin again, but none of my clothes from before fit."

"I have the feeling that when you say 'clothes', you mean more than that," Sam ventured quietly. The touch of his hand in Pippin's hair seemed to be comforting, so Sam continued to pluck out leaves and stroke through the mess.

"Merry's in love." As soon as the words were out, Pippin looked as if he wished them back. Was this what was eating the poor lad up so?

"With that Estella Bolger?" Sam asked, just petting Pippin's hair now, the last of the leaves gone. Pippin slid his eyes shut and let go of Sam's hand. Then he just seemed to slid around, in an odd, slinky motion that twisted him about and put him right up against Sam. And all without letting Sam's hand leave his hair. Sam blinked a bit before continuing. "Master Pip, would that be why you're in such a hurry to get married?"

Pippin shook his head, but it didn't feel like true denial so much as not wanting it to be real. "Sam... how much do you love Rosie?"

Sam paused, taking the chance to move to a more comfortable position, with Pippin lying almost in his lap. Sam thought of his Rose, off with Elanor and Frodo-lad until the 'morrow, a smile appearing as he found the right words. "More than the flowers love the sun and rain, I'd reckon."

Pippin sighed softly, a hand reaching 'round to clasp Sam's knee. Sam sunk his fingers back into Pippin's hair, as it seemed to relax the lad a bit. "Do you... Sam? How much do you love Frodo?"

The world froze for a moment, crystal-sharp and just as brittle, and Sam almost forgot how to breathe. "More than life, Master Pip. More than the world entire." Sam took a breath, quick and sharp. "And I'd say that you already knew that."

"Yes," Pippin breathed. "I shouldn't have... I'm just so tired of trying to be Pippin Took."

"Well, that might be your problem," Sam said, carefully teasing out a tangle in Pippin's hair. "It might be time for you to be Peregrin Took. Because you're right, Master Pip - you aren't Pippin anymore, and you haven't been for a while. We..." Sam swallowed hard, making sure that he didn't pull on Pippin's curls. "When we left you, that was Pippin. But when we saw you again, you weren't. We didn't see when it changed, but it did. Sometime while we were gone, Pippin got burned away, I think, and you're Peregrin now. Whether or not you're ever called it."

"That's what happened to Frodo," Pippin mused, his hand rubbing Sam's knee. Sam closed his eyes against the sudden well of pain. "He got burned away, and he didn't have anything solid enough to build on, after."

"Aye," Sam agreed hoarsely. "What he had left couldn't be built on in this world." Sam licked his lips, trying to get out the taste of salt, only noticing then that he was crying. "But he always was too fine for us, don't you think, Master Pip?"

Sam opened his eyes at a painful sob, surprised that it wasn't from himself, and he pulled Pippin up into his arms, holding him tight. After a few moments of feeling Pippin's grief wash through him, Sam gave in and let himself weep while Pippin tried to speak, too wracked with tears and sobs for any words to come through clearly. When they'd both cried themselves out, Sam pulled away and stood up, holding a hand down for Pippin.

"If there's to be any more of that kind of talk, perhaps we should be going inside," he suggested, smiling ruefully down at Pippin. "We don't need to make a spectacle of ourselves in Mr. Frodo's garden."

It wasn't until Pippin gave one last great sob that Sam realized what he'd said. He bit his lip, wishing he could take the words back, yet knowing that this wouldn't ever be other than Mr. Frodo's garden to him, not if he lived longer than Mr. Bilbo and the Old Took combined. Finally, Pippin met Sam's gaze and let himself be pulled to his feet. Once up, Pippin refused to release Sam's hand, just giving him a stubborn look and starting toward the door, pulling Sam behind him.

When they reached the green door, Pippin turned to him with a near despairing look. "I'm not in love with Merry, you know. And I'm not a tween anymore."

"Did I say you were either?" Sam asked, opening the door when it seemed as if Pippin would be satisfied standing outside it all day, just like a fool Took. "And you should get cleaned up before you go anywhere past the hall, mind. I'll go get you something else to wear and you just..." Sam shot Pippin a repressing look, hiding his smile at Pippin's forced-like innocence. Aye, that was more the Pippin he remembered. "Just stay put and wipe yourself off a bit."

He dropped Pippin's hand, well, near prised it from his own, and headed toward the room that Pippin had always stayed in - it was much more respectable-looking now than it had been when Pippin had been a teen and a tween. And Sam knew that Pippin always left at least half of the clothes that he'd brought, and Pippin well knew that Sam had given up on sending them back. And perhaps that was part of why Pippin had come here.

Sam took a deep breath to steady himself, and went to find something reasonable for Master Pippin to wear.

TBC

Mostly on account of needing to go to work and such.

*looks at schedule*

*mourns*

And the next time I have that's substantial is after work tomorrow. Which is a shame because whether or not this is a story to keep, it's enjoyable to write, to try to find Sam.

Comments

[butterfly.livejournal.com]

Thank you! That's great to hear.