Fic: To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Mar 30, 2008 17:08


(1/19)

Authors: Piplover, Lindelea, Auntie Meesh, Slightly Tookish, Cathleen, Dreamflower, Rosietook, Ariel, Pearl Took, Budgielover, and Gryffinjack
Summary: A plot against the newly crowned King leads to possibly deadly consequences for his smallest Guardsman; and disturbing questions arise for the new Steward to answer, as the entire Fellowship rallies around. Written as a group story by the PippinHealers mailing list.
Genre: Hurt-comfort
Rating: PG-13 for angst and some violence
Warning: An OC character death and mention of drug abuse

(On November 30, 2005 the PippinHealers Yahoo!group began this Round Robin story. It was finally finished on March 20, 2008.

Piplover, Lindelea, Auntie Meesh, Slightly Tookish, Cathleen, Dreamflower, Rosietook, Ariel, Pearl Took, Budgielover, and Gryffinjack were the contributing authors.)

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

Prologue: Piplover

It was the silence before the dawn that always bothered him. Those moments in time when it seemed the entire world had fallen asleep but him, and the White City held its breath in anticipation of another day.

At times he would find himself curled on the window seat, watching for the first rays of sun that would end his nightly thoughts and allow him a few moments of sleep. Others, he would spend in his bed, wrapped in blankets pulled tight against his chin, only his eyes peeking out of his cocoon.

He would listen to Merry's soft breath, and hushed voices of guards patrolling the streets. Sometimes he would find his eyes closing, and hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would be able to sleep that night.

It was these moments that were the worst, for when his mind was halfway between awake and sleep, he would hear the shadows of all that happened.

Boromir's hearty laugh would startle him awake, or the low growl of troll. Battle cries followed him from room to room, and the soft shuffle of his feet became the march of thousands.

Worst of all, however, was when all the noises would stop, and the silence became a sound of its own. Heavy and thick, it would hang about his neck until he found himself gasping, clawing at the blankets in a vain attempt to escape.

Only when he found himself sobbing quietly did the silence stop. And even then, he knew it was still there, waiting for him. Like a shadow holding its breath, waiting to pounce.
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