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hathycolWritten this in a break from Tuilenn's Tale, if only because I can't write humourous fluff all the time. Feedback would be appreciated, if only because I don't think I've got Pippin's voice right at all.
Also, the fact that I'm a total pervert meant that I was writing this and it occasionally sounded either Eowyn/Pippin or Merry/Pippin. Since the first is just wrong and the second just doesn't sit right (twincest is a different kettle of fish, I tell you), I'm sure this isn't a good thing.
Title: Candlelit Conversation
Author: Hathor
Summary: The night after the battle of the Pelennor Fields, Pippin and Éowyn talk in the Houses Of Healing. Ficlet, inspired by the OSA challenge.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien’s characters, nor places, nor situations, and I’m receiving no money from writing this. This little ficlet does belong to me, and please ask and credit before distributing.
Author’s Notes: Written in response to the OSA “And If They’d Had A Chat’ challenge, so thanks to NancyBrooke for suggesting it. All feedback fully appreciated, especially in my characterisation of Pippin – I’m still not entirely sure if I’ve got it right.
Pippin stared at the woman in frank curiosity. Only the light of candles illuminated her outline as she slept, her breathing deep and even and her body still. This seemingly peaceful creature had been the one to slay with the Witch-King, with Merry’s help, of course. How odd!
Éowyn stirred suddenly as if hearing Pippin’s thoughts. He moved backwards in surprise, but she was quick to grow still again. Pippin sighed in relief, and crept close again. The small Hobbit had seen Aragorn heal her, of course, and had heard the tales of her and her actions from Merry, but this had been the first time he had truly seen her for himself.
“He has spoken long of you,” he told the sleeping figure conversationally. “Merry, I mean. You seem to be very brave, or at least compared to us Hobbits!” Pippin leaned against the cool wall, and took a deep breath of the heavy night air that seemed so much cleaner, at least for tonight. “And it was good of you to bring Merry, too.”
“And how could I not?” came a sleepy voice from the pallet. This time, Pippin really did jump in shock.
“My lady! I thought that you were asleep!”
“And now I am not.” Éowyn leaned over, wincing when she moved her obviously sore bandaged arm. “I brought Merry because he had the heart and will to fight. That was enough.”
“Yes, well, that’s enough for me too.” Pippin scrambled away from the wall and bowed. “I am Peregrin Took, but my friends call me Pippin.”
A small smile flitted across Éowyn’s face like the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. Just as quickly, it was gone again. “And I am Éowyn. You are Merry’s cousin?”
“I am indeed.”
“Then he has spoken of you as well.”
Pippin preened. “Well, I am from the better side of the family.”
Éowyn laughed in a distant manner. “I am sure that all the Holbytlan have their merit. Your cousin is brave.”
“Braver than me.” Pippin smiled broadly, before leaning slightly closer to the oddly cold and distant woman. “Though, in truth, I do not think he would have been without you.”
Éowyn nodded slowly. “And without Merry, I would now be dead.” The word dropped into place with odd finality, and a shadow spread across her face. Pippin leaned slightly further forward.
“Was… was he so terrible? The… the Black Captain?” he asked in a hushed whisper. Éowyn shut her eyes and swallowed deeply.
“Yes,” she said simply. Surprising even himself, Pippin had the grace to withdraw and move away from her.
“You should sleep. That’s what Aragorn says.”
“Aragorn says.” Again, the words fell into place with a terrible finality, and Éowyn rolled over. “Then I should do so. Good night, Master Peregrin.”
“My friends call me Pippin and so should you,” insisted Pippin. He turned and moved towards the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned back towards the golden lady.
“Thank you for bringing Merry back,” he said in a low tone. Éowyn did not respond, but Pippin was satisfied she had heard him. He crept away back to Merry’s bedchamber, deciding that it was high time he learnt more about this icy maiden.
Or perhaps in the morning.
~Hathy_Col~
Also, the fact that I'm a total pervert meant that I was writing this and it occasionally sounded either Eowyn/Pippin or Merry/Pippin. Since the first is just wrong and the second just doesn't sit right (twincest is a different kettle of fish, I tell you), I'm sure this isn't a good thing.
Title: Candlelit Conversation
Author: Hathor
Summary: The night after the battle of the Pelennor Fields, Pippin and Éowyn talk in the Houses Of Healing. Ficlet, inspired by the OSA challenge.
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkien’s characters, nor places, nor situations, and I’m receiving no money from writing this. This little ficlet does belong to me, and please ask and credit before distributing.
Author’s Notes: Written in response to the OSA “And If They’d Had A Chat’ challenge, so thanks to NancyBrooke for suggesting it. All feedback fully appreciated, especially in my characterisation of Pippin – I’m still not entirely sure if I’ve got it right.
Pippin stared at the woman in frank curiosity. Only the light of candles illuminated her outline as she slept, her breathing deep and even and her body still. This seemingly peaceful creature had been the one to slay with the Witch-King, with Merry’s help, of course. How odd!
Éowyn stirred suddenly as if hearing Pippin’s thoughts. He moved backwards in surprise, but she was quick to grow still again. Pippin sighed in relief, and crept close again. The small Hobbit had seen Aragorn heal her, of course, and had heard the tales of her and her actions from Merry, but this had been the first time he had truly seen her for himself.
“He has spoken long of you,” he told the sleeping figure conversationally. “Merry, I mean. You seem to be very brave, or at least compared to us Hobbits!” Pippin leaned against the cool wall, and took a deep breath of the heavy night air that seemed so much cleaner, at least for tonight. “And it was good of you to bring Merry, too.”
“And how could I not?” came a sleepy voice from the pallet. This time, Pippin really did jump in shock.
“My lady! I thought that you were asleep!”
“And now I am not.” Éowyn leaned over, wincing when she moved her obviously sore bandaged arm. “I brought Merry because he had the heart and will to fight. That was enough.”
“Yes, well, that’s enough for me too.” Pippin scrambled away from the wall and bowed. “I am Peregrin Took, but my friends call me Pippin.”
A small smile flitted across Éowyn’s face like the sun breaking out from behind a cloud. Just as quickly, it was gone again. “And I am Éowyn. You are Merry’s cousin?”
“I am indeed.”
“Then he has spoken of you as well.”
Pippin preened. “Well, I am from the better side of the family.”
Éowyn laughed in a distant manner. “I am sure that all the Holbytlan have their merit. Your cousin is brave.”
“Braver than me.” Pippin smiled broadly, before leaning slightly closer to the oddly cold and distant woman. “Though, in truth, I do not think he would have been without you.”
Éowyn nodded slowly. “And without Merry, I would now be dead.” The word dropped into place with odd finality, and a shadow spread across her face. Pippin leaned slightly further forward.
“Was… was he so terrible? The… the Black Captain?” he asked in a hushed whisper. Éowyn shut her eyes and swallowed deeply.
“Yes,” she said simply. Surprising even himself, Pippin had the grace to withdraw and move away from her.
“You should sleep. That’s what Aragorn says.”
“Aragorn says.” Again, the words fell into place with a terrible finality, and Éowyn rolled over. “Then I should do so. Good night, Master Peregrin.”
“My friends call me Pippin and so should you,” insisted Pippin. He turned and moved towards the door. Suddenly he stopped and turned back towards the golden lady.
“Thank you for bringing Merry back,” he said in a low tone. Éowyn did not respond, but Pippin was satisfied she had heard him. He crept away back to Merry’s bedchamber, deciding that it was high time he learnt more about this icy maiden.
Or perhaps in the morning.
~Hathy_Col~
