theatrical_muse prompt: 3AM
Pippin startled awake, his heart pounding, nightclothes soaked in sweat. He bolted upright and looked around frantically, unable to remember where he was or how he had gotten there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a finely crafted curtain flutter in a pleasant night breeze.
"Rivendell," Pippin whispered. He let out a heavy sigh, slowly realizing that he had only been dreaming. He felt for Merry beside him. Assured that Merry was quite alright, Pippin decided that he would take a short walk, not daring to sleep right away, lest his nightmare return. He kicked off the intricate blanket tangled around his legs and swung his feet over the side of the oversized bed.
Pippin pushed himself off the edge, landing with a soft thud. He smoothed out his nightclothes and walked into the hallway. The night breeze swirled through his ruffled hair, and Pippin shivered.
"Out of bed so late at night?"
Pippin started. He hadn't heard anyone else approach.
"My apologies, little one. I did not mean to frighten you." The graceful figure kneeled down, putting himself level with Pippin.
An elf! Pippin stared, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry, I -- I didn't mean to wake you --"
The elf smiled, realizing that the small figure must be Peregrin. Gandalf had recalled to him the youngest's lilting brogue and bright eyes. "No, little one," he said, "you did not wake me."
Pippin exhaled, relieved.
Upon looking closer at the tiny face, the elf noticed distress in the little hobbit's green eyes. "What troubles you?" He asked.
"I, er," Pippin stopped, embarrassed, "I had a nightmare."
"Oh?" The elf said.
"I -- I --" Pippin stammered, tears welling in his eyes.
"Shh, shh, little one. It's alright. It was only a dream." The elf reached out to the little figure, laying his hand on his shoulder.
The halfling was crying in earnest now, hiccoughing quietly in the otherwise silent corridor. Only questioning himself for a moment, the elf scooped Pippin to him, hugging him against his shoulder and softly stroking his hair.
"Shh, it's alright, it's alright," he whispered, not sure what else to do to comfort the youngest halfling. "Shh, there now, it's alright," the elf said, scooping Pippin into his arms completely. He began to hum a lullaby to the halfling, whose breathing slowly evened from hitching breaths to the deep rhythm of sleep.
The elf slowly stood, careful not to jostle the small form. He carried him soundlessly back to his bed and gently laid him down next to one of the other halflings.
"Sleep well, little one," the elf said, and walked silently away.