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piploverHello, everyone.
As I am going to the field tomorrow for a week, I thought I would post this today.
Before any of you read this, however, I want to explain one thing. This story is slash. It is only rated PG, but it is slash nonetheless. This story is an AU to my OWN universe. The relationship that I portray Merry and Pippin having in this story should not be transfered to my other ones.
It was an expiriment on my part, and began as just a snippet for my own amusement and blossomed into something I think is rather good.
If you do not like slash, or the references to slash, please do not read this. If you do like slash, please do not think that all my other stories are slashy as well.
This was written for myself, and only with some friend's prompting am I posting this. I know that several of you out there have no problem, but for those of you who do, I am sorry if this offends you. As I said, it is an AU, and does not really fit into my timeline.
If you prefer not to read this, feel free, and I will understand complelely. The only thing I ask is that there be no flames or bad comments, which I highly doubt any of you would give me anyway, as you are all so wonderful.
But I am nevous about this. And I will quit babbling and just post the damn thing.
Hugs to all.
Tears and Answers
Pippin lay silent on the bed that was much too large for him, his breath even and calm, showing no sign of the struggles he had been having but a week ago. Beside him, head burrowed into his cousin’s shoulder, Merry sighed in sleep, moving closer unconsciously, the arm he had draped over Pippin’s chest tightening slightly.
Frodo looked in from the doorway and smiled, pulling the door closed behind him as he left the two to their slumber, knowing that soon enough they would be both called to duty once more.
As he turned to leave, however, a crack of light from the hallway illuminated the sleeping forms, and a soft whimper floated out to his ears. He turned back, frowning.
When he opened the door fully, the sliver of light from the candle burning from the sconce in the hallway showed what he had missed earlier.
Pippin was not sleeping peacefully; his face scrunched, he was shivering slightly, but it was from Merry that the troubled sound had come.
Quietly, so as not to disturb them further, he made his way into the dark room, going to Merry’s side and gently touching his upturned cheek.
“Hush, dearest,” he whispered, and placed a small kiss on Merry’s cheek.
“Frodo.”
He looked up, startled, to see Pippin staring at him, eyes large in the dimness, face pale in the shadowy light.
Without the words having to be spoken, Frodo moved around to the other side of the large bed, crawling in beside his young cousin, and placed his arm next to Merry’s.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Frodo asked softly, gently, caressing Pippin’s face.
“It hurt, Frodo,” Pippin whispered, and the tears were evident in his voice. “I didn’t think it would hurt, but it did, and we couldn’t continue.”
If any other had uttered such words, Frodo would have turned scarlet and stammered out a reply that would have been meaningless and stupid. As it was, he had watched the love between these two grow from when Pippin was but a lad, until both of his cousins had realized their love went deeper than most would have thought proper.
Perhaps others did not understand that love, but Frodo did, and he felt a pain lance through his heart at Pippin’s strained confession.
“Are you all right now?” he asked instead, trying to find the right words to respond.
“Yes,” Pippin whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “But, Frodo, Merry –“
The tweenager could not continue, and tears fell from his closed eyes, sliding down pale cheeks that had always been rosy, dampening Frodo’s hand.
“Merry loves you no matter what, dearest,” Frodo said, with such conviction and certainty that Pippin could not deny it. “And even should you never be able to – be - with him again, he will continue to love you.”
“But, Frodo,” Pippin nearly sobbed, still in that terribly soft voice, as though the words were being forced with a breath he did not have to spare. “We couldn’t even – I couldn’t – he…”
“Hush, Pippin,” Frodo commanded, his tone a bit firmer than he had meant, his sorrow making him sharp. With a gentler voice, he continued. “I want you to listen to me for a moment, all right?”
A slight nod was his only answer, more tears welling from eyes that were still squeezed shut in desolation.
“You suffered horrible wounds during that last battle, Pippin. Your whole body was affected by those wounds, and has had a great strain placed upon it. Aragorn says you have recovered much faster than he would have ever thought possible, but even so, you have heard him say himself that you are bound to encounter difficulties that were not expected. This is no doubt one of them. If you want, we can go to Strider and –“
“No!” The cry was hoarse, strangled, and the intensity of it startled Frodo. “I can’t, Frodo! What would he say?”
There was a silence, filled only with the sound of Pippin’s exhausted breathing. Then, startling his two cousins so much they both jumped, Merry whispered, sleepily, “Pippin, if you must discuss our more intimate moments with Frodo, I really wish you would wake me.”
A strained laugh was Pippin’s only answer, the tears mixing with the laughter to make a wet, choking sound.
In the faint light, Frodo saw Merry raise himself up on his elbow, keeping his arm still across his cousin, and their eyes met for a moment. Then Merry looked down at Pippin, and gently stroked the tears away.
“Hush, sweetheart,” Merry whispered, and placed a gentle kiss to Pippin’s brow. “What are these tears for? Because we weren’t able to be together tonight? I told you not to worry over it!”
Pippin just shook his head, his cheeks flushing in sudden embarrassment as he bowed his head, unable to avoid either of their gazes.
“I tried to tell him that this was a result of being crushed by a troll, but as most often happens, Merry-lad, our stubborn cousin refuses to listen to reason, and won’t even consider talking to Strider,” Frodo sighed, taking Pippin’s cold hand in his own bereaved one and holding it tightly.
“He – he wouldn’t - He would be disgusted!” Pippin sobbed piteously.
“Hush, Pippin,” Merry snapped in slight irritation. “You are being silly.”
Pippin finally sat up, staring stubbornly from Frodo to Merry.
“How can he –” He hiccupped, a loud, odd burble that had all three of them laughing before they could contain themselves.
“Really, Pippin,” Frodo giggled, tugging on one of Pippin’s ears. “Do you really think that he travelled all that way with us, and not once noticed the looks you two lovebirds kept giving each other? Or other things, in the dark of the night?”
Both Merry and Pippin blushed at this last, and Frodo found himself giggling at their sudden discomfiture.
“Now, dear cousin, no more tears, all right? Tomorrow, after your duty ends, you, Merry, and I shall speak to Aragorn and see if he has anything that might help.” Suddenly Frodo’s eyes hardened a little, and the tone of his voice changed, becoming more determined and set. “And if he should have anything negative to say about the love that you two share, then he and I shall have certain strong words.”
“And from me, too,” a new voice said from the doorway, startling them all so much that Frodo nearly fell from the bed, clutching Pippin with both hands as Merry reached out to steady him.
“Sam,” all three of them groaned, even as Merry patted the bed next to his side.
“Sorry,” Sam murmured, though his tone was not sorry at all. “I heard whispering and figured one of you lot was having a troubling night. Looks like I thought correctly. What’s this about, then?” Sam demanded, and his steely gaze gave no room for lies.
Blushing, Merry explained the problem in as few words as possible, Pippin’s head bowed. Though the two of them had never kept their relationship hidden from Sam, neither had they spoken of it or acted freely on it around their friend. Both were rather startled by his reaction.
“Well, I never!” Sam hissed, eyes glinting. “If Mr. Strider even says so much as a word against it, well, I’ll just have to set him right, won’t I?” He smiled at the two astounded faces staring at him, returning Frodo’s smile. “Really, Mister Merry, Mister Pippin. I’ve known you both since you were wee lads, and I know how much you care for each other, as much as I care for my Rosie. We’ll get this settled, and don’t you have a worry, Pip-lad.”
Pippin, still blushing, smiled up at Sam, and before the other could react, had flung his arms around him in a tight hug.
“Now, now,” Sam sighed, patting Pippin’s back gently.
Before he could say any more, two more sets of arms were locked around him and the tweenager, and for a moment nothing existed outside of that embrace. Then, almost reluctantly, the four of them parted, looking at each other with an understanding that went beyond their years and their experiences.
“I think we should all try and sleep, now,” Frodo said softly. “Tomorrow is soon approaching, and you two have duties.” He touched Pippin’s cheek once more, smiling encouragingly. “And, Pippin, don’t fret. I’m sure that it was probably just a bit too soon for you, that’s all. Tomorrow will be much brighter after you get some rest, and you aren’t so upset.”
There was no disagreement from his young cousin, and soon all four were rearranged snugly, Merry on the left, with Pippin pressed firmly against him, and Frodo on Pippin’s right with Sam next to him.
In but a few moments, all four of them were sound asleep, none of them having noticed the set of eyes that watched from the doorway, or the soft tread of elven footsteps that receded down the corridor.
And they were oblivious to the fact that should anything negative be said against the two cousins, the Queen would have very harsh words for whoever was foolish enough to utter them. And so, she had no doubt, would her husband.
***
Frodo woke sometime before first breakfast, opening his eyes sleepily to see a familiar sight that brought a smile to his lips. Merry, snuggled closely to Pippin, had one hand over his cousin’s shoulder, while the other was firmly tucked into his mouth in a gesture he had retained from childhood.
Pippin, curled into his normal ball closely against Merry’s chest, slept on, all traces of his distress erased by slumber. Reaching out, Frodo gently poked his youngest cousin, regretting the necessity of doing so.
“Mphwhaaa,” Pippin grumbled, borrowing his head deeper into Merry’s shoulder.
“Time to get up, Pip-lad,” Frodo whispered, and his smile grew as Pippin squirmed a moment, than sat up. Immediately Merry was awake, rubbing his eyes with the hand that had a moment before occupied his mouth.
“Is it morning all ready?” he mumbled, blinking sleepily as Sam let out a tremendous snore that had them all giggling.
“Yes, and time for you two to get ready for duty and eat some breakfast,” Frodo said firmly. He placed a hand on Pippin’s, his eyes enquiring.
The tweenager smiled at him, and Frodo felt his muscles relax. He watched with drooping eyelids as Merry kissed Pippin tenderly on the lips before leaving the warmth of the covers, moving to wash his face and hands while Pippin, with a resigned sigh, followed more slowly.
Relieved that things seemed to be returning to normal, Frodo allowed his eyes to close, relishing in the fact that the only duty he had was to sleep, relax, and enjoy his day. As Sam let out another rumbling snore, he snickered into his hand, wondering how long it would take Pippin to start regretting his confession of the night before.
They would have to make certain that he would not back out, for as embarrassing as the situation was, it could also be a sign of something more serious, and Frodo was not about to have his cousins face more pain because of simple embarrassment.
After all, what was dealing with his cousins’ love lives compared with climbing Mount Doom?
“Ack, Merry, stop that!” Pippin squealed, startling a grunt out of Sam.
Frodo opened his eyes once more, to see Merry determinedly brushing Pippin’s hair, his tongue sticking out as he struggled to run the brush through the thick curls.
“Just stand still,” he grimaced, trying to follow as Pippin attempted to squirm away from him in an odd parody of a dance, the brush still firmly entangled.
Then again, Frodo thought, hiding his chuckles in his pillow. Perhaps Mount Doom was easier.
***
For the first time Pippin could remember, he dreaded the ending of his duty shift. He could not help but squirm slightly as the bells tolled the hour, and he realized that he had but a quarter hour to go before he was released...and the inevitable conversation with Aragorn.
The young knight regretted his words of the previous evening, feeling himself blush at the thought of having to talk to the King about such an issue. Likely it had just been too soon, as Frodo had said, that was all, and he had overreacted. They could at least wait to talk to Aragorn about it if things still weren’t right when they tried again. Surely there was some way to get out of it? Maybe if he claimed a headache?
Definitely not, he thought quickly, discarding the idea. Then Frodo and Merry would be certain to bring him in!
Maybe he could offer to stand his relief’s watch? That might work. He had seen it done before. Of course, it would be slightly difficult to pull the Guard aside and ask him, as Frodo, Merry and Sam were already waiting patiently for him beside Aragorn, talking easily to the King as he finished his own duties for the day.
Every now and then Aragorn would nod, smiling at something one of the hobbits had said, all the while working on the paperwork that seemed to have become a constant in his life.
Much too quickly, the bell chimed again, and almost at once the hobbits descended on him, leaving Aragorn’s side so quickly he looked up from his current document, frowning.
Pippin swallowed, hard, and turned to his relief before his cousins and Sam could reach him.
“Let me take your shift, Anar,” he hissed in a desperate plea.
The man, a burly soldier who had seen many battles in his day, frowned down at the Ernil i Pheriannath in confusion.
“Please!” Pippin begged, his eyes going large and his tone little more than a whimper.
Too late, the man opened his mouth to reply as Frodo reached Pippin’s side. Instantly the Guard bowed respectfully to the tweenager’s cousin, and Frodo returned it almost absently, blushing as he always did.
“Come along, Pippin, we have a certain matter to attend to,” Frodo urged, taking Pippin’s arm as Merry came up on his other side, doing the same.
Casting one last pleading glance over his shoulder, Pippin found himself almost forcefully being marched to where Aragorn watched, a confused frown creasing his brow.
“Really, Frodo, Merry, we don’t have to do this. I’m certain last night was just - just – too soon! That’s it, really, you were right Frodo, it was too soon and I’m sure that everything will be sorted given some time. I’m certain there is no reason to bring this up, I mean he is so busy and all and - Hello, Aragorn, ” Pippin murmured, almost too softly, suddenly squirming in an attempt to free himself.
Merry and Frodo held on with experience born from many years of practice, their grips like iron, and Sam stood quietly behind the three of them, effectively blocking any escape.
“Gentlemen,” Aragorn greeted, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. “Is there a problem?”
“No!” Pippin squeaked, at the same time as Merry, Frodo and Sam answered, “Yes!”
He looked about him with rising panic, seeking any kind of distraction that would allow him to flee.
“Strider, Pippin has a personal problem that he needs to discuss with you, and we thought - OW!” Frodo bellowed, releasing his cousin’s arm to grab his wounded foot.
Pippin, desperate as he had not felt since the last battle, had used the only tactic he could think of. Though he had used it before on his cousins, and it always worked, he had been reluctant until Frodo had started to speak.
With all his might, he stomped down on his cousins’ feet, wrenching himself free at the same time. Without a moment’s thought he scrambled away from Merry’s indignant cry, and barely managed to escape Sam’s reaching grasp.
“Peregrin Took, get back here!” Frodo shouted, still hopping about on one foot.
Pippin ran, oblivious to the fact that the King, watching in wide-eyed amazement, made a signal with his right hand, and immediately his fellow Guards closed in on him.
Working on battle instinct alone, he scuttled between knees and around reaching hands, squeaking as one lucky man managed to grab his tunic. He twisted, letting out a pathetic little cry, and managed to free himself, but not without his knee sending a warning jab through his leg that almost buckled him. Only his mortification at what would happen if he were caught allowed him to continue, and within moments he had managed to flee out the door, bare feet making little sound as he careened down the corridor at full speed, heedless of all he passed.
“Peregrin TOOK!”
The shout followed him out, and he risked a glance over his shoulder. Not only were Frodo, Merry, and Sam right behind him, but Aragorn himself.
Gasping something decidedly not suitable for polite company, he turned around once more, just in time to see a short staircase descending before him, and the figures that were climbing up it.
“Noooo!” he screamed, slamming full force into Legolas, who in turn crashed into Gimli. All three fell the few steps down the staircase with a clattering of armor and curses, landing in a tangle on the hard tile floor.
Luckily for all of them, Gimli was on the bottom, and aside from several loud epithets, seemed to be unharmed. Staying only long enough to make certain both were uninjured, Pippin jumped to his feet, his knee sending another warning jolt through him that had him staggering, and was fleeing once more, the sound of rushing footsteps nearly upon him.
“Gimli, Legolas, are you all right?” he heard Aragorn ask in a tone of mixed worry and amusement. At the others assent, he yelled, “Don’t let him get away!”
Pippin gave a tiny squeak as he darted around a random corner, feeling the air start to burn in his lungs, seeking a refuge of any kind. Behind him, steadily gaining, he could hear his friends in pursuit.
Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn ran for almost three days straight trying to catch up to me and Merry, he thought dizzily as he jumped down several more stairs. What in the Shire makes me think I can outrun them now?
He thought once more about the topic his cousins wanted to force him to discuss, and felt another burst of energy speed his legs. He had barely rounded another corner when a strong arm came out of nowhere, blocking his path. He hit it full with his chest and the force sent him staggering backwards with a startled screech.
“Grab him, Oren!” Beregond’s familiar voice shouted, sounding amused, and a second later strong arms clamped about his waist, lifting him off of his feet.
Pippin struggled, kicking back with all he was worth, and was rewarded by a solid thump.
“Sorry,” he gasped as the strong grip was released and he fell to the floor, his feet moving before he was steady.
The delay, however, had cost him, and a moment later he found himself cornered, surrounded by a sea of faces that were more determined than he had seen in a long time.
“Peregrin Took,” Frodo panted, glaring at his younger cousin with such stern reprimand in his gaze that Pippin felt his face pale. “What - what did you think you were doing?”
“Running away?” Pippin gasped out, clutching his side. He tried to smile, and would have taken a step backward if he had not been pressed against a wall. As it was he felt his knees quiver, and knew that in a few moments, he would not have the strength to so much as walk anywhere.
“You could have seriously hurt Legolas or Gimli, or yourself,” Frodo continued. “That was an incredibly stupid thing you just did!”
“Now, Frodo, calm dowOW!” He had taken a step forward, hands raised in a placating gesture, only to find his knee had finally had enough and had given out on him. He stumbled, wincing in pain as Legolas caught him before he could hit the floor, and the next thing he knew he was lifted by those strong arms, held securely in a grasp he knew there was no escaping from.
“Now, perhaps we can return to my chambers, and the four of you can tell me what has caused my Knight to flee from my presence, necessitating that half the Guards of the Citadel give chase, hmm?” Aragorn asked into the silence that fell.
Sam, Merry and Frodo nodded, casting dark looks Pippin’s way. The tweenager felt his face flush, and buried it in Legolas’ shoulder.
I’m doomed, he thought gloomily as they headed back.
***
Legolas carried him all the way to Aragorn’s private study, where he was deposited on the soft chaise that made one instantly think of taking a nap. However, one look at his cousins’ determined faces, and Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas’ curious expressions, and all thoughts of comfort or sleep were driven from his mind.
“All right,” Aragorn began, pulling one of the large, squashy chairs over to the chaise, so he was staring down at his knight with a raised eyebrow. “Who would like to begin?”
Before any could speak, however, the door to the study was opened once more, admitting the Queen. Her gown, of palest green and gold, trailed behind her like the feathers of an exotic bird, and as she moved to close the door her sleeves flowed about her.
“Forgive me,” she said softly, her eyes lingering for a moment on Pippin before they turned to her husband. “I heard about the commotion and thought I could have Gimli and Legolas explain it to me. Perhaps Frodo and Sam could help them”
In that instant, Pippin knew that she knew, and not only did not seem to mind, but was giving him a chance to explain to Aragorn without everyone listening in. He felt himself blushing, and his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, trembled.
“I think that would be a good idea,” Aragorn agreed, turning his own gaze to Frodo. Something seemed to pass between them, though Pippin, head bowed, missed the exchange as Frodo smiled thankfully and stood, pulling Sam with him. Legolas and Gimli exchanged their own confused look, but did not question the decision.
“We’ll just be in the next room,” Arwen said softly, leading the small group through a door in the opposite wall, closing it firmly after Gimli entered.
“Now,” Aragorn said once more, turning his gaze back to the two hobbits before him. “It is just the three of us, and I would hear this tale of why my Knight is suddenly afraid of me.”
Pippin felt as though his face were on fire, he was blushing so hard. He could not look up to meet his friend’s eyes, not even when Merry placed one hand over both of his clasped ones.
“Strider,” Merry began after the silence had lengthened to an unbearable level. “There is something you need to know about Pippin and I. Something you may not like.”
“And what would that be, Merry?” Aragorn asked softly, his tone carefully neutral.
There was another long silence, where only Pippin’s slight sniffling could be heard, followed by a loud gulp from Merry before he plunged in.
“Pippin and I - well - we’re -“ He stopped, suddenly unable to continue. For one moment, he regretted the fact that they had managed to catch Pippin so fast.
“We’re in love!” Pippin blurted out loudly, still not looking up. Both Merry and Aragorn stared at him in startlement as he continued, eyes squinched shut. “We have been for the past five years!”
Merry swallowed again, turning slightly defiant eyes to Aragorn.
“We - well, we tried to - ummmm,” he stuttered, trying to find a delicate way of saying what he needed to say. Finally he just took a deep breath and did as his cousin had, blurting out the truth. “We tried to be together last night, for the first time since everything, and we couldn’t, because it hurt Pippin too much, and he couldn’t even…well you know. He couldn’t. Strider, will you please help us?”
There was a profound silence for a moment, then Merry’s eyes widened as Aragorn stood slowly, moving the few feet to kneel before the couch. His gaze was steady, serious, and showed no trace of discomfort or disgust. Rather, as he stared intently into Merry’s face, the older hobbit saw only concern and fondness.
The King placed a hand over Merry and Pippin’s, bringing the tweenager’s head up with a startled jerk. Tears could be seen unshed in those green eyes.
“My dear friends,” Aragorn said softly, squeezing the hands beneath his. “My dear, dear, friends. I have known about the way you feel for each other since before Weathertop. And never, ever, has it affected how I think of either of you.”
Pippin blinked, startled beyond words. Merry just gaped open mouthed. Unable to help himself, Aragorn smiled at their expressions.
“I have lived in this world too long, and seen too much hate, to not appreciate true love when I see it,” he continued, still in that soft, tender tone. “I only wish that you had not felt the need to hide this from me.”
“You – you’re – you aren’t - you knew?” Pippin whispered incredulously.
“Little Bird,” Aragorn chuckled, shaking his head, “Was I not in love myself? It eased my heart as we journeyed to see the looks and gestures of love you shared, and to remember that my own true love waited for me. And I believe that you two forget far too frequently how sensitive my hearing is. And how well sounds carry in the night.”
Both of them blushed at this last, though the tension was slowly draining out of them.
“Now,” Aragorn continued, squeezing their hands once more before resuming his seat. “Tell me what has happened, exactly, or rather what has not happened, and I shall do whatever I can to help you.” He laughed at their relieved, slightly embarrassed looks. “Pippin is not the only one of my Guards to experience such trouble after being wounded so terribly. Though he is, perhaps, the only one to flee from me before asking for help.”
Once more Pippin felt himself turn scarlet, and wondered how long it would be before he would be able to live this day down.
“And you are quite lucky, Peregrin Took, that your aim was off, or else I believe Oren may have been experiencing similar trouble. And I am certain that he does not wish his daughter to be an only child,” Aragorn added dryly.
Pippin winced at the gentle reprimand, knowing that, one way or another, he would have to make amends with his friend. And give an explanation. After all, he was scheduled to have guard with him in a few days.
“Now, let us see what we can do for your troubles. And, Pippin,” Aragorn added, smiling down at his friend’s anxious expression, his tone softening. “Never be afraid to talk to me again. About anything. I am your friend above all else, and nothing shall change that. Ever.”
Pippin nodded, smiling for the first time that evening, and braced himself to discuss a topic he never in a thousand years would have thought himself discussing with the King.
Behind the closed door, five bodies were pressed firmly against it, ears snug against the wood. Then, after hearing this last, the group of friends smiled to each other, and left their post to make themselves comfortable.
They had a feeling it would not be long before they were called back in.
***
A squeal of laughter brought Frodo’s head up from the book he was reading, and he found himself smiling as Pippin’s giggles drew nearer to the pond where he was sitting and enjoying the sunshine.
Beside him, Sam looked up from where he had been inspecting one of the many plants still unknown to him, just in time to see Pippin and Merry come running down the garden pathway, laughing and teasing each other with a lightheartedness that had been absent too long.
The two friends exchanged knowing glances, smiling.
“I guess Mr. Strider was right,” Sam murmured, turning back to his scrutiny. “That herb does do wonders.”
“Indeed it does, Sam,” Frodo whispered, turning back to his book as the sound of his cousins’ laughter echoed back to him from where they had disappeared to, behind the hedges. “Indeed it does.”
As I am going to the field tomorrow for a week, I thought I would post this today.
Before any of you read this, however, I want to explain one thing. This story is slash. It is only rated PG, but it is slash nonetheless. This story is an AU to my OWN universe. The relationship that I portray Merry and Pippin having in this story should not be transfered to my other ones.
It was an expiriment on my part, and began as just a snippet for my own amusement and blossomed into something I think is rather good.
If you do not like slash, or the references to slash, please do not read this. If you do like slash, please do not think that all my other stories are slashy as well.
This was written for myself, and only with some friend's prompting am I posting this. I know that several of you out there have no problem, but for those of you who do, I am sorry if this offends you. As I said, it is an AU, and does not really fit into my timeline.
If you prefer not to read this, feel free, and I will understand complelely. The only thing I ask is that there be no flames or bad comments, which I highly doubt any of you would give me anyway, as you are all so wonderful.
But I am nevous about this. And I will quit babbling and just post the damn thing.
Hugs to all.
Tears and Answers
Pippin lay silent on the bed that was much too large for him, his breath even and calm, showing no sign of the struggles he had been having but a week ago. Beside him, head burrowed into his cousin’s shoulder, Merry sighed in sleep, moving closer unconsciously, the arm he had draped over Pippin’s chest tightening slightly.
Frodo looked in from the doorway and smiled, pulling the door closed behind him as he left the two to their slumber, knowing that soon enough they would be both called to duty once more.
As he turned to leave, however, a crack of light from the hallway illuminated the sleeping forms, and a soft whimper floated out to his ears. He turned back, frowning.
When he opened the door fully, the sliver of light from the candle burning from the sconce in the hallway showed what he had missed earlier.
Pippin was not sleeping peacefully; his face scrunched, he was shivering slightly, but it was from Merry that the troubled sound had come.
Quietly, so as not to disturb them further, he made his way into the dark room, going to Merry’s side and gently touching his upturned cheek.
“Hush, dearest,” he whispered, and placed a small kiss on Merry’s cheek.
“Frodo.”
He looked up, startled, to see Pippin staring at him, eyes large in the dimness, face pale in the shadowy light.
Without the words having to be spoken, Frodo moved around to the other side of the large bed, crawling in beside his young cousin, and placed his arm next to Merry’s.
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Frodo asked softly, gently, caressing Pippin’s face.
“It hurt, Frodo,” Pippin whispered, and the tears were evident in his voice. “I didn’t think it would hurt, but it did, and we couldn’t continue.”
If any other had uttered such words, Frodo would have turned scarlet and stammered out a reply that would have been meaningless and stupid. As it was, he had watched the love between these two grow from when Pippin was but a lad, until both of his cousins had realized their love went deeper than most would have thought proper.
Perhaps others did not understand that love, but Frodo did, and he felt a pain lance through his heart at Pippin’s strained confession.
“Are you all right now?” he asked instead, trying to find the right words to respond.
“Yes,” Pippin whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “But, Frodo, Merry –“
The tweenager could not continue, and tears fell from his closed eyes, sliding down pale cheeks that had always been rosy, dampening Frodo’s hand.
“Merry loves you no matter what, dearest,” Frodo said, with such conviction and certainty that Pippin could not deny it. “And even should you never be able to – be - with him again, he will continue to love you.”
“But, Frodo,” Pippin nearly sobbed, still in that terribly soft voice, as though the words were being forced with a breath he did not have to spare. “We couldn’t even – I couldn’t – he…”
“Hush, Pippin,” Frodo commanded, his tone a bit firmer than he had meant, his sorrow making him sharp. With a gentler voice, he continued. “I want you to listen to me for a moment, all right?”
A slight nod was his only answer, more tears welling from eyes that were still squeezed shut in desolation.
“You suffered horrible wounds during that last battle, Pippin. Your whole body was affected by those wounds, and has had a great strain placed upon it. Aragorn says you have recovered much faster than he would have ever thought possible, but even so, you have heard him say himself that you are bound to encounter difficulties that were not expected. This is no doubt one of them. If you want, we can go to Strider and –“
“No!” The cry was hoarse, strangled, and the intensity of it startled Frodo. “I can’t, Frodo! What would he say?”
There was a silence, filled only with the sound of Pippin’s exhausted breathing. Then, startling his two cousins so much they both jumped, Merry whispered, sleepily, “Pippin, if you must discuss our more intimate moments with Frodo, I really wish you would wake me.”
A strained laugh was Pippin’s only answer, the tears mixing with the laughter to make a wet, choking sound.
In the faint light, Frodo saw Merry raise himself up on his elbow, keeping his arm still across his cousin, and their eyes met for a moment. Then Merry looked down at Pippin, and gently stroked the tears away.
“Hush, sweetheart,” Merry whispered, and placed a gentle kiss to Pippin’s brow. “What are these tears for? Because we weren’t able to be together tonight? I told you not to worry over it!”
Pippin just shook his head, his cheeks flushing in sudden embarrassment as he bowed his head, unable to avoid either of their gazes.
“I tried to tell him that this was a result of being crushed by a troll, but as most often happens, Merry-lad, our stubborn cousin refuses to listen to reason, and won’t even consider talking to Strider,” Frodo sighed, taking Pippin’s cold hand in his own bereaved one and holding it tightly.
“He – he wouldn’t - He would be disgusted!” Pippin sobbed piteously.
“Hush, Pippin,” Merry snapped in slight irritation. “You are being silly.”
Pippin finally sat up, staring stubbornly from Frodo to Merry.
“How can he –” He hiccupped, a loud, odd burble that had all three of them laughing before they could contain themselves.
“Really, Pippin,” Frodo giggled, tugging on one of Pippin’s ears. “Do you really think that he travelled all that way with us, and not once noticed the looks you two lovebirds kept giving each other? Or other things, in the dark of the night?”
Both Merry and Pippin blushed at this last, and Frodo found himself giggling at their sudden discomfiture.
“Now, dear cousin, no more tears, all right? Tomorrow, after your duty ends, you, Merry, and I shall speak to Aragorn and see if he has anything that might help.” Suddenly Frodo’s eyes hardened a little, and the tone of his voice changed, becoming more determined and set. “And if he should have anything negative to say about the love that you two share, then he and I shall have certain strong words.”
“And from me, too,” a new voice said from the doorway, startling them all so much that Frodo nearly fell from the bed, clutching Pippin with both hands as Merry reached out to steady him.
“Sam,” all three of them groaned, even as Merry patted the bed next to his side.
“Sorry,” Sam murmured, though his tone was not sorry at all. “I heard whispering and figured one of you lot was having a troubling night. Looks like I thought correctly. What’s this about, then?” Sam demanded, and his steely gaze gave no room for lies.
Blushing, Merry explained the problem in as few words as possible, Pippin’s head bowed. Though the two of them had never kept their relationship hidden from Sam, neither had they spoken of it or acted freely on it around their friend. Both were rather startled by his reaction.
“Well, I never!” Sam hissed, eyes glinting. “If Mr. Strider even says so much as a word against it, well, I’ll just have to set him right, won’t I?” He smiled at the two astounded faces staring at him, returning Frodo’s smile. “Really, Mister Merry, Mister Pippin. I’ve known you both since you were wee lads, and I know how much you care for each other, as much as I care for my Rosie. We’ll get this settled, and don’t you have a worry, Pip-lad.”
Pippin, still blushing, smiled up at Sam, and before the other could react, had flung his arms around him in a tight hug.
“Now, now,” Sam sighed, patting Pippin’s back gently.
Before he could say any more, two more sets of arms were locked around him and the tweenager, and for a moment nothing existed outside of that embrace. Then, almost reluctantly, the four of them parted, looking at each other with an understanding that went beyond their years and their experiences.
“I think we should all try and sleep, now,” Frodo said softly. “Tomorrow is soon approaching, and you two have duties.” He touched Pippin’s cheek once more, smiling encouragingly. “And, Pippin, don’t fret. I’m sure that it was probably just a bit too soon for you, that’s all. Tomorrow will be much brighter after you get some rest, and you aren’t so upset.”
There was no disagreement from his young cousin, and soon all four were rearranged snugly, Merry on the left, with Pippin pressed firmly against him, and Frodo on Pippin’s right with Sam next to him.
In but a few moments, all four of them were sound asleep, none of them having noticed the set of eyes that watched from the doorway, or the soft tread of elven footsteps that receded down the corridor.
And they were oblivious to the fact that should anything negative be said against the two cousins, the Queen would have very harsh words for whoever was foolish enough to utter them. And so, she had no doubt, would her husband.
***
Frodo woke sometime before first breakfast, opening his eyes sleepily to see a familiar sight that brought a smile to his lips. Merry, snuggled closely to Pippin, had one hand over his cousin’s shoulder, while the other was firmly tucked into his mouth in a gesture he had retained from childhood.
Pippin, curled into his normal ball closely against Merry’s chest, slept on, all traces of his distress erased by slumber. Reaching out, Frodo gently poked his youngest cousin, regretting the necessity of doing so.
“Mphwhaaa,” Pippin grumbled, borrowing his head deeper into Merry’s shoulder.
“Time to get up, Pip-lad,” Frodo whispered, and his smile grew as Pippin squirmed a moment, than sat up. Immediately Merry was awake, rubbing his eyes with the hand that had a moment before occupied his mouth.
“Is it morning all ready?” he mumbled, blinking sleepily as Sam let out a tremendous snore that had them all giggling.
“Yes, and time for you two to get ready for duty and eat some breakfast,” Frodo said firmly. He placed a hand on Pippin’s, his eyes enquiring.
The tweenager smiled at him, and Frodo felt his muscles relax. He watched with drooping eyelids as Merry kissed Pippin tenderly on the lips before leaving the warmth of the covers, moving to wash his face and hands while Pippin, with a resigned sigh, followed more slowly.
Relieved that things seemed to be returning to normal, Frodo allowed his eyes to close, relishing in the fact that the only duty he had was to sleep, relax, and enjoy his day. As Sam let out another rumbling snore, he snickered into his hand, wondering how long it would take Pippin to start regretting his confession of the night before.
They would have to make certain that he would not back out, for as embarrassing as the situation was, it could also be a sign of something more serious, and Frodo was not about to have his cousins face more pain because of simple embarrassment.
After all, what was dealing with his cousins’ love lives compared with climbing Mount Doom?
“Ack, Merry, stop that!” Pippin squealed, startling a grunt out of Sam.
Frodo opened his eyes once more, to see Merry determinedly brushing Pippin’s hair, his tongue sticking out as he struggled to run the brush through the thick curls.
“Just stand still,” he grimaced, trying to follow as Pippin attempted to squirm away from him in an odd parody of a dance, the brush still firmly entangled.
Then again, Frodo thought, hiding his chuckles in his pillow. Perhaps Mount Doom was easier.
***
For the first time Pippin could remember, he dreaded the ending of his duty shift. He could not help but squirm slightly as the bells tolled the hour, and he realized that he had but a quarter hour to go before he was released...and the inevitable conversation with Aragorn.
The young knight regretted his words of the previous evening, feeling himself blush at the thought of having to talk to the King about such an issue. Likely it had just been too soon, as Frodo had said, that was all, and he had overreacted. They could at least wait to talk to Aragorn about it if things still weren’t right when they tried again. Surely there was some way to get out of it? Maybe if he claimed a headache?
Definitely not, he thought quickly, discarding the idea. Then Frodo and Merry would be certain to bring him in!
Maybe he could offer to stand his relief’s watch? That might work. He had seen it done before. Of course, it would be slightly difficult to pull the Guard aside and ask him, as Frodo, Merry and Sam were already waiting patiently for him beside Aragorn, talking easily to the King as he finished his own duties for the day.
Every now and then Aragorn would nod, smiling at something one of the hobbits had said, all the while working on the paperwork that seemed to have become a constant in his life.
Much too quickly, the bell chimed again, and almost at once the hobbits descended on him, leaving Aragorn’s side so quickly he looked up from his current document, frowning.
Pippin swallowed, hard, and turned to his relief before his cousins and Sam could reach him.
“Let me take your shift, Anar,” he hissed in a desperate plea.
The man, a burly soldier who had seen many battles in his day, frowned down at the Ernil i Pheriannath in confusion.
“Please!” Pippin begged, his eyes going large and his tone little more than a whimper.
Too late, the man opened his mouth to reply as Frodo reached Pippin’s side. Instantly the Guard bowed respectfully to the tweenager’s cousin, and Frodo returned it almost absently, blushing as he always did.
“Come along, Pippin, we have a certain matter to attend to,” Frodo urged, taking Pippin’s arm as Merry came up on his other side, doing the same.
Casting one last pleading glance over his shoulder, Pippin found himself almost forcefully being marched to where Aragorn watched, a confused frown creasing his brow.
“Really, Frodo, Merry, we don’t have to do this. I’m certain last night was just - just – too soon! That’s it, really, you were right Frodo, it was too soon and I’m sure that everything will be sorted given some time. I’m certain there is no reason to bring this up, I mean he is so busy and all and - Hello, Aragorn, ” Pippin murmured, almost too softly, suddenly squirming in an attempt to free himself.
Merry and Frodo held on with experience born from many years of practice, their grips like iron, and Sam stood quietly behind the three of them, effectively blocking any escape.
“Gentlemen,” Aragorn greeted, raising an eyebrow in inquiry. “Is there a problem?”
“No!” Pippin squeaked, at the same time as Merry, Frodo and Sam answered, “Yes!”
He looked about him with rising panic, seeking any kind of distraction that would allow him to flee.
“Strider, Pippin has a personal problem that he needs to discuss with you, and we thought - OW!” Frodo bellowed, releasing his cousin’s arm to grab his wounded foot.
Pippin, desperate as he had not felt since the last battle, had used the only tactic he could think of. Though he had used it before on his cousins, and it always worked, he had been reluctant until Frodo had started to speak.
With all his might, he stomped down on his cousins’ feet, wrenching himself free at the same time. Without a moment’s thought he scrambled away from Merry’s indignant cry, and barely managed to escape Sam’s reaching grasp.
“Peregrin Took, get back here!” Frodo shouted, still hopping about on one foot.
Pippin ran, oblivious to the fact that the King, watching in wide-eyed amazement, made a signal with his right hand, and immediately his fellow Guards closed in on him.
Working on battle instinct alone, he scuttled between knees and around reaching hands, squeaking as one lucky man managed to grab his tunic. He twisted, letting out a pathetic little cry, and managed to free himself, but not without his knee sending a warning jab through his leg that almost buckled him. Only his mortification at what would happen if he were caught allowed him to continue, and within moments he had managed to flee out the door, bare feet making little sound as he careened down the corridor at full speed, heedless of all he passed.
“Peregrin TOOK!”
The shout followed him out, and he risked a glance over his shoulder. Not only were Frodo, Merry, and Sam right behind him, but Aragorn himself.
Gasping something decidedly not suitable for polite company, he turned around once more, just in time to see a short staircase descending before him, and the figures that were climbing up it.
“Noooo!” he screamed, slamming full force into Legolas, who in turn crashed into Gimli. All three fell the few steps down the staircase with a clattering of armor and curses, landing in a tangle on the hard tile floor.
Luckily for all of them, Gimli was on the bottom, and aside from several loud epithets, seemed to be unharmed. Staying only long enough to make certain both were uninjured, Pippin jumped to his feet, his knee sending another warning jolt through him that had him staggering, and was fleeing once more, the sound of rushing footsteps nearly upon him.
“Gimli, Legolas, are you all right?” he heard Aragorn ask in a tone of mixed worry and amusement. At the others assent, he yelled, “Don’t let him get away!”
Pippin gave a tiny squeak as he darted around a random corner, feeling the air start to burn in his lungs, seeking a refuge of any kind. Behind him, steadily gaining, he could hear his friends in pursuit.
Gimli, Legolas and Aragorn ran for almost three days straight trying to catch up to me and Merry, he thought dizzily as he jumped down several more stairs. What in the Shire makes me think I can outrun them now?
He thought once more about the topic his cousins wanted to force him to discuss, and felt another burst of energy speed his legs. He had barely rounded another corner when a strong arm came out of nowhere, blocking his path. He hit it full with his chest and the force sent him staggering backwards with a startled screech.
“Grab him, Oren!” Beregond’s familiar voice shouted, sounding amused, and a second later strong arms clamped about his waist, lifting him off of his feet.
Pippin struggled, kicking back with all he was worth, and was rewarded by a solid thump.
“Sorry,” he gasped as the strong grip was released and he fell to the floor, his feet moving before he was steady.
The delay, however, had cost him, and a moment later he found himself cornered, surrounded by a sea of faces that were more determined than he had seen in a long time.
“Peregrin Took,” Frodo panted, glaring at his younger cousin with such stern reprimand in his gaze that Pippin felt his face pale. “What - what did you think you were doing?”
“Running away?” Pippin gasped out, clutching his side. He tried to smile, and would have taken a step backward if he had not been pressed against a wall. As it was he felt his knees quiver, and knew that in a few moments, he would not have the strength to so much as walk anywhere.
“You could have seriously hurt Legolas or Gimli, or yourself,” Frodo continued. “That was an incredibly stupid thing you just did!”
“Now, Frodo, calm dowOW!” He had taken a step forward, hands raised in a placating gesture, only to find his knee had finally had enough and had given out on him. He stumbled, wincing in pain as Legolas caught him before he could hit the floor, and the next thing he knew he was lifted by those strong arms, held securely in a grasp he knew there was no escaping from.
“Now, perhaps we can return to my chambers, and the four of you can tell me what has caused my Knight to flee from my presence, necessitating that half the Guards of the Citadel give chase, hmm?” Aragorn asked into the silence that fell.
Sam, Merry and Frodo nodded, casting dark looks Pippin’s way. The tweenager felt his face flush, and buried it in Legolas’ shoulder.
I’m doomed, he thought gloomily as they headed back.
***
Legolas carried him all the way to Aragorn’s private study, where he was deposited on the soft chaise that made one instantly think of taking a nap. However, one look at his cousins’ determined faces, and Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas’ curious expressions, and all thoughts of comfort or sleep were driven from his mind.
“All right,” Aragorn began, pulling one of the large, squashy chairs over to the chaise, so he was staring down at his knight with a raised eyebrow. “Who would like to begin?”
Before any could speak, however, the door to the study was opened once more, admitting the Queen. Her gown, of palest green and gold, trailed behind her like the feathers of an exotic bird, and as she moved to close the door her sleeves flowed about her.
“Forgive me,” she said softly, her eyes lingering for a moment on Pippin before they turned to her husband. “I heard about the commotion and thought I could have Gimli and Legolas explain it to me. Perhaps Frodo and Sam could help them”
In that instant, Pippin knew that she knew, and not only did not seem to mind, but was giving him a chance to explain to Aragorn without everyone listening in. He felt himself blushing, and his hands, clasped tightly in his lap, trembled.
“I think that would be a good idea,” Aragorn agreed, turning his own gaze to Frodo. Something seemed to pass between them, though Pippin, head bowed, missed the exchange as Frodo smiled thankfully and stood, pulling Sam with him. Legolas and Gimli exchanged their own confused look, but did not question the decision.
“We’ll just be in the next room,” Arwen said softly, leading the small group through a door in the opposite wall, closing it firmly after Gimli entered.
“Now,” Aragorn said once more, turning his gaze back to the two hobbits before him. “It is just the three of us, and I would hear this tale of why my Knight is suddenly afraid of me.”
Pippin felt as though his face were on fire, he was blushing so hard. He could not look up to meet his friend’s eyes, not even when Merry placed one hand over both of his clasped ones.
“Strider,” Merry began after the silence had lengthened to an unbearable level. “There is something you need to know about Pippin and I. Something you may not like.”
“And what would that be, Merry?” Aragorn asked softly, his tone carefully neutral.
There was another long silence, where only Pippin’s slight sniffling could be heard, followed by a loud gulp from Merry before he plunged in.
“Pippin and I - well - we’re -“ He stopped, suddenly unable to continue. For one moment, he regretted the fact that they had managed to catch Pippin so fast.
“We’re in love!” Pippin blurted out loudly, still not looking up. Both Merry and Aragorn stared at him in startlement as he continued, eyes squinched shut. “We have been for the past five years!”
Merry swallowed again, turning slightly defiant eyes to Aragorn.
“We - well, we tried to - ummmm,” he stuttered, trying to find a delicate way of saying what he needed to say. Finally he just took a deep breath and did as his cousin had, blurting out the truth. “We tried to be together last night, for the first time since everything, and we couldn’t, because it hurt Pippin too much, and he couldn’t even…well you know. He couldn’t. Strider, will you please help us?”
There was a profound silence for a moment, then Merry’s eyes widened as Aragorn stood slowly, moving the few feet to kneel before the couch. His gaze was steady, serious, and showed no trace of discomfort or disgust. Rather, as he stared intently into Merry’s face, the older hobbit saw only concern and fondness.
The King placed a hand over Merry and Pippin’s, bringing the tweenager’s head up with a startled jerk. Tears could be seen unshed in those green eyes.
“My dear friends,” Aragorn said softly, squeezing the hands beneath his. “My dear, dear, friends. I have known about the way you feel for each other since before Weathertop. And never, ever, has it affected how I think of either of you.”
Pippin blinked, startled beyond words. Merry just gaped open mouthed. Unable to help himself, Aragorn smiled at their expressions.
“I have lived in this world too long, and seen too much hate, to not appreciate true love when I see it,” he continued, still in that soft, tender tone. “I only wish that you had not felt the need to hide this from me.”
“You – you’re – you aren’t - you knew?” Pippin whispered incredulously.
“Little Bird,” Aragorn chuckled, shaking his head, “Was I not in love myself? It eased my heart as we journeyed to see the looks and gestures of love you shared, and to remember that my own true love waited for me. And I believe that you two forget far too frequently how sensitive my hearing is. And how well sounds carry in the night.”
Both of them blushed at this last, though the tension was slowly draining out of them.
“Now,” Aragorn continued, squeezing their hands once more before resuming his seat. “Tell me what has happened, exactly, or rather what has not happened, and I shall do whatever I can to help you.” He laughed at their relieved, slightly embarrassed looks. “Pippin is not the only one of my Guards to experience such trouble after being wounded so terribly. Though he is, perhaps, the only one to flee from me before asking for help.”
Once more Pippin felt himself turn scarlet, and wondered how long it would be before he would be able to live this day down.
“And you are quite lucky, Peregrin Took, that your aim was off, or else I believe Oren may have been experiencing similar trouble. And I am certain that he does not wish his daughter to be an only child,” Aragorn added dryly.
Pippin winced at the gentle reprimand, knowing that, one way or another, he would have to make amends with his friend. And give an explanation. After all, he was scheduled to have guard with him in a few days.
“Now, let us see what we can do for your troubles. And, Pippin,” Aragorn added, smiling down at his friend’s anxious expression, his tone softening. “Never be afraid to talk to me again. About anything. I am your friend above all else, and nothing shall change that. Ever.”
Pippin nodded, smiling for the first time that evening, and braced himself to discuss a topic he never in a thousand years would have thought himself discussing with the King.
Behind the closed door, five bodies were pressed firmly against it, ears snug against the wood. Then, after hearing this last, the group of friends smiled to each other, and left their post to make themselves comfortable.
They had a feeling it would not be long before they were called back in.
***
A squeal of laughter brought Frodo’s head up from the book he was reading, and he found himself smiling as Pippin’s giggles drew nearer to the pond where he was sitting and enjoying the sunshine.
Beside him, Sam looked up from where he had been inspecting one of the many plants still unknown to him, just in time to see Pippin and Merry come running down the garden pathway, laughing and teasing each other with a lightheartedness that had been absent too long.
The two friends exchanged knowing glances, smiling.
“I guess Mr. Strider was right,” Sam murmured, turning back to his scrutiny. “That herb does do wonders.”
“Indeed it does, Sam,” Frodo whispered, turning back to his book as the sound of his cousins’ laughter echoed back to him from where they had disappeared to, behind the hedges. “Indeed it does.”
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Date: 2004-07-12 09:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-12 10:04 am (UTC)And the Dom tape is his stuff for VH1s I Love the 90s.
P, who spent the weekend dreaming of YOUR fic!