Pippin

                                            

He is at least coherent when Gen wakes up. Before, when he wasn't sure if Gen would live or not, he had contemplated going to Scout's liquor cabinet and drinking himself to unconsciousness. Then he hadn't moved, and he sat there, mildly coherent, when Gen wakes up and says dazedly “What's that ticking sound?”

“Clocks,” says Snow.

“Who are you?”
Snow considers this question seriously. He is many things; a warrior, a brother, really tall, morose, and sort of tired. But he answers what he thinks he should.

“Snow.”

Gen squints. “I don't know you.”

“I know.” He figures that if Gen wants to live in the past, he might as well go along with it.

“Where's Pippin?”
“I don't know.”
“Is she safe?”
“I don't know who Pippin is.”

“...Where am I?”

“In a tower.”

“Where's Pippin?”

“I don't know.”

“Is she safe?”
“...I told you, I don't know who Pippin is.”

“She has, uh, medium-length brown hair, she's sort of willowy, she has hazel-nut eyes...”

“I don't know her.”

Gen sits up, stifling a gasp of pain. “I have to go find her.”
“She's fine.”
“You said you didn't know her.”
“She's fine, I said. You're the one that's injured.”

“I don't care, I have to go find Pippin!”
“Who is Pippin?”
Gen blinks up at him owlishly. “Your hair is on fire.”

Author's Note

Yes, dear readers, WHO IS PIPPIN?!