Pippin felt tired. An overwhelming tiredness that filled his very being. He
was old, and knew it. And as he lay in bed, each breath becoming harder, he
closed his eyes, knowing he would not open them again. He felt the world
grow further away and darkness surrounded him. Time lost all meaning, until
he found himself standing in a dark place.
A light grew around him, blindingly bright. Yet he could see. He had seen this light before, in the place where the voices dwelt. The light was as bright as it had been those times before, yet he could still see clearly. It seemed to be both near at hand and far away, coming from everywhere around him. Looking into the light, he saw images, countless images, layered on top of each other until they formed a dazzling mass of brightness.
Reaching into the light, staring at the images it contained, moving about on business Pippin couldn't quite understand, were figures in dark robes. He couldn't make out exactly what it was they were doing, but they all seemed to be concentrating on the light. All bar one.
The figure walked towards Pippin. He was in dark robes as the others were, but his hood was thrown back. He was a tall man, grey-haired and noble- looking. His face was stern and proud, and yet kind. He looked a lot like Aragorn. Or rather, as Aragorn sometimes looked. He looked like Aragorn looked as he stood beneath the white tree in Minas Tirrith, or as he had looked on the Fields of Cormillian after the battle of the black gates.
As Pippin looked at him, he began to wonder if perhaps it was the other way round. Perhaps Aragorn looked like this man.
"Are you ready, little prince?" he asked.
And suddenly, Pippin knew, though where the knowledge came from he couldn't have guessed. "Elendil." The old king nodded.
"Am I dead?" Pippin asked.
"In a way," Elendil replied. "Your body has died of old age, but your spirit has yet to depart across the great sea to whatever rest Eru has decreed for the mortal races. This is a place between life and death."
"Why am I here?"
"Because you have fulfilled your potential. All of us who reside here have fulfilled our potential, and been granted the choice to remain, to help others on their paths. We place guidance into the hearts and minds of those who still live and walk on Middle Earth. We are the instinct and intuition of all living things."
"Why me? I'm not a great king or lord. I'm just a hobbit."
"That is why your deeds are so great. You went into battle with no training and little hope, simply because you knew it was right. You went on a quest, terrified throughout. But you did not give in to fear, for the sake of your friends. There are many soldiers and lords who earn fame in battle and glorious deeds, but they are not offered a place here, because they seek to increase their fame. You sought only to help your friends and protect your people. THAT is why you are given this choice."
"What exactly do you do?"
"We see the potential contained in every being. We whisper advice into the heart of those beings, telling them how they should act. The choice is always up to them though, we are merely guides."
"But you spoke to me in my mind. I heard a voice, I didn't just get a feeling of what I should do."
"There is something special about you, Pippin. You saw us in the Shire, all those years ago. Since the world began, no one has seen us unless we choose to be seen. Even when we tried to hide from you, you saw us. There are rules, Pippin, about how much we are allowed to interfere with those we are guiding. We broke those rules with you, because you are different. But, as with all, the choice is yours. Do you remain here as one of us, or do you cross the great sea and find your rest?"
Pippin thought about it. He thought of his friends in the Shire and in Gondor. He remembered how he had felt in Rivendell, at the beginning of the quest, and on the quest itself. All through, he had listened to the words of Elendil, even though he didn't know who he was. He had gained comfort from them. Perhaps there were other's out there who would be comforted by the guidance he could give them.
"I will stay," he decided. Elendil smiled. Pippin turned and looked at the light that surrounded them. He could see now that the countless images it contained were the images seen by countless people. Sorting through them, without knowing how he did it, he saw an image of his own dead face. The image was blurred with tears, and he knew through who's eyes he looked.
"Do not cry for me," he whispered, hoping his words would reach his friend.
***
Elendil watched Pippin, uncertain if he should stop him. The problem with being a guide, was that there was no one to give him guidance. Pippin was breaking the rules, but the rules had been broken before and no evil had come of it. He decided it was better to leave him be.
Pippin had learned in a few moments what it took most of them decades to learn. Just as he had been different in his life, he was different in his death. Elendil had known from the first time he'd laid eyes on the young hobbit that he was different, special. Now he was more certain. Pippin had some destiny ahead of him, some potential that even he couldn't see.
***
FINISHED!!! I hope you've like it. There may be a sequel, but the inspiration hasn't struck yet, so don't hold your breaths.
A light grew around him, blindingly bright. Yet he could see. He had seen this light before, in the place where the voices dwelt. The light was as bright as it had been those times before, yet he could still see clearly. It seemed to be both near at hand and far away, coming from everywhere around him. Looking into the light, he saw images, countless images, layered on top of each other until they formed a dazzling mass of brightness.
Reaching into the light, staring at the images it contained, moving about on business Pippin couldn't quite understand, were figures in dark robes. He couldn't make out exactly what it was they were doing, but they all seemed to be concentrating on the light. All bar one.
The figure walked towards Pippin. He was in dark robes as the others were, but his hood was thrown back. He was a tall man, grey-haired and noble- looking. His face was stern and proud, and yet kind. He looked a lot like Aragorn. Or rather, as Aragorn sometimes looked. He looked like Aragorn looked as he stood beneath the white tree in Minas Tirrith, or as he had looked on the Fields of Cormillian after the battle of the black gates.
As Pippin looked at him, he began to wonder if perhaps it was the other way round. Perhaps Aragorn looked like this man.
"Are you ready, little prince?" he asked.
And suddenly, Pippin knew, though where the knowledge came from he couldn't have guessed. "Elendil." The old king nodded.
"Am I dead?" Pippin asked.
"In a way," Elendil replied. "Your body has died of old age, but your spirit has yet to depart across the great sea to whatever rest Eru has decreed for the mortal races. This is a place between life and death."
"Why am I here?"
"Because you have fulfilled your potential. All of us who reside here have fulfilled our potential, and been granted the choice to remain, to help others on their paths. We place guidance into the hearts and minds of those who still live and walk on Middle Earth. We are the instinct and intuition of all living things."
"Why me? I'm not a great king or lord. I'm just a hobbit."
"That is why your deeds are so great. You went into battle with no training and little hope, simply because you knew it was right. You went on a quest, terrified throughout. But you did not give in to fear, for the sake of your friends. There are many soldiers and lords who earn fame in battle and glorious deeds, but they are not offered a place here, because they seek to increase their fame. You sought only to help your friends and protect your people. THAT is why you are given this choice."
"What exactly do you do?"
"We see the potential contained in every being. We whisper advice into the heart of those beings, telling them how they should act. The choice is always up to them though, we are merely guides."
"But you spoke to me in my mind. I heard a voice, I didn't just get a feeling of what I should do."
"There is something special about you, Pippin. You saw us in the Shire, all those years ago. Since the world began, no one has seen us unless we choose to be seen. Even when we tried to hide from you, you saw us. There are rules, Pippin, about how much we are allowed to interfere with those we are guiding. We broke those rules with you, because you are different. But, as with all, the choice is yours. Do you remain here as one of us, or do you cross the great sea and find your rest?"
Pippin thought about it. He thought of his friends in the Shire and in Gondor. He remembered how he had felt in Rivendell, at the beginning of the quest, and on the quest itself. All through, he had listened to the words of Elendil, even though he didn't know who he was. He had gained comfort from them. Perhaps there were other's out there who would be comforted by the guidance he could give them.
"I will stay," he decided. Elendil smiled. Pippin turned and looked at the light that surrounded them. He could see now that the countless images it contained were the images seen by countless people. Sorting through them, without knowing how he did it, he saw an image of his own dead face. The image was blurred with tears, and he knew through who's eyes he looked.
"Do not cry for me," he whispered, hoping his words would reach his friend.
***
Elendil watched Pippin, uncertain if he should stop him. The problem with being a guide, was that there was no one to give him guidance. Pippin was breaking the rules, but the rules had been broken before and no evil had come of it. He decided it was better to leave him be.
Pippin had learned in a few moments what it took most of them decades to learn. Just as he had been different in his life, he was different in his death. Elendil had known from the first time he'd laid eyes on the young hobbit that he was different, special. Now he was more certain. Pippin had some destiny ahead of him, some potential that even he couldn't see.
***
FINISHED!!! I hope you've like it. There may be a sequel, but the inspiration hasn't struck yet, so don't hold your breaths.