Mourning Stars
by North-took

Pippin sat with his cousin on Frodo's roof watching a shooting star. Pippin had his chin on his hand, his focus, as usual, was on far away things. To Frodo's way of thinking, it was good that it was just him and Pippin stargazing; Pippin's family would complain of grass stains on his shirt and pull both hobbits back to Hobbiton. Frodo was happy to simply sit back against an old oak growing into Hobbiton Hill and watch Pippin's thoughts dart and soar.

"Why would a star run away?" Pippin had a wild and inquiring mind; his curiosity was akin to a balloon, always growing.

Frodo hid a grin by taking a sip from his still-warm drink of cocoa. Only Pippin would think to ask if stars ran away. "Stars don't just run away," Frodo said calmly. "All things follow a path, usually it's old and familiar, but all things must pass. A star has a doom too, and it must find its own way towards it."

Pippin's frown was mighty. "A star has a doom too? Who would mourn a star? I know now why a night sky is black - its for lost stars, isn't it? But what about us? Most Hobbits don't watch or follow stars as you do, Cousin Frodo. Who would know about lost stars?"

"Bilbo would know, but it isn't only crazy Baggins' watching stars," Frodo said softly. "As for mourning - I also know of a Tookish cousin who would mourn for stars."

Pippin's look was full of curiosity.

Frodo's laugh was as warm as a spring day. "You, you my silly Took!"

"Oh," Pippin said slowly, "I thought that was what you said."