Merry and Pippin - The Worst Sort of Trouble ( I accidentally posted the rough idea first… Sorry! ^^; )

By: Kayani Neko and SEES

There had been many horrors and relief's in Pippin's life, but nothing compared to the moment he found Merry on the battlefield of Minas Tirith. The moment he had seen Merry's body limp, horror filled him. But when Merry's eyes fluttered open, relief washed over him, exhausting what little energy he had left in him. Pippin dropped to his knees beside his best friend. "Merry, it's me. It's me, Pippin."

Merry's eye opened weakly, and in a hoarse voice he spoke. "I knew you'd find me." The look in Merry's eyes before he spoke again almost broke Pippin's heart. "You won't leave me… Will you?"

In that moment, Pippin knew that he never would. Never again. "No, Merry… I'm going to take care of you." Merry seemed to calm down quickly and let his head fall back. He was clearly exhausted, and this worried Pippin further. He covered Merry with his own cloak he had found earlier while trying to find him. It was not long before the healers found the both of them.

When the healers had tried to move him, Pippin nearly screamed when they brushed him aside, his small hands clenching into tiny fists. After being separated from Merry for so long, did they really think that he was going to leave him again for even a moment? This worry was something new, something that was quite honestly choking him, making him ill as he followed the makeshift stretcher. "Be careful!" The words were wrung from his throat, past the lump and it hurt him to see that body, so animated any other time, limp and nearly lifeless. They weren't being gentle enough, and he nearly ripped their arms away- he would carry Merry himself, he would do a better job and-

He never should have left him. He should have been able to help himself.

But he could never not look.

Guilt washed over him as a new feeling interjected. Uselessness. He'd often had bouts of it, but… It had never been like this. He only ever made things difficult for Merry… Why? Merry had always taken care of him, as well as get him into more trouble. But it was always okay so long as they were together. It may have taken this separation to help him figure it out, but Merry meant more to him than anything. More then ale, songs or fireworks. Because without Merry, Pippin wouldn't enjoy them at all.

The Hobbit followed the healers, stumbling after them. They hadn't been conscious of the cloak, and it slipped off as they walked away. Merry stooped down and picked it up, unable to speak past the lump in his throat. If only he was bigger, if only he was smarter, if only he was stronger… Guilt was festering in his belly, and he stared at his feet, at the stretcher, at his feet again in a fit of indecision. Quickly (or as quickly as a little person can catch up with a big person), he ran up and jogged alongside the stretcher, whirling the cloak over his friend.

Merry was starting to shiver.

Slowly, one arm came up to his chest, then the next, holding his shoulders, pulling the cloak tightly around himself. One of the healers, who was checking Merry's vitals pushed Pippin aside and pulled down the cloak, feeling his skin.

Once again, he wanted to scream at them. But they were healers. They knew better and he had to trust them, because they had healed a great many people before they came to a Halfling- which brought up another worry. What if they didn't know how to treat him? Hobbits were just like the Big Folk on the inside but smaller, weren't they?

It was a bit of a walk to the Hall of Healing, and Pippin was panting by the end of it. The healers walked quickly, and he couldn't really blame them for it. However, instead of tending Merry, they merely placed him on a large bed with another occupant- a young boy, who looked like he was not a day over ten- and left again, taking the stretcher with them. Pippin looked after them, and then back to his friend, who hadn't moved from the uncomfortable position they had dumped him in.

"Help! Please, someone! My friend is hurt!" The words rang loud and clear in the quiet hall, and a Man in white rushed over, Aragorn not far behind him. "Be quiet!" The new Man was angry, hissing at him and more concerned about the boy next to Merry, Aragorn shooing him to the other side of the bed. The Ranger first moved Merry's limbs into a more comfortable position before checking him over, noting the grimace of pain that crossed the Hobbit's face when he touched his right arm. Pippin watched with slight horror, barely breathing.

The Man on the other side shook his head and clucked his tongue, his large hand moving to slide the boy's eyes shut. He proceeded to remove the dead from the bed, and Pippin didn't even have to ask for Aragorn to begin to explain his friend's condition.

"Don't worry too much. He should be fine, as long as he doesn't become ill. He seems to have taken quite a beating, but he's got you to look after him." And Pippin did realize that yes, he would do his best to look after his best friend, the one most important person that had done his best to take care of him. However, the day had been long, and he was tired, and it was not long before he had fallen asleep, his head laying beside Merry's hand, his own wrapped around it.

Long grass danced lazily in the wind, singing a sweet tune. Merry snuck around the back of the Took's house, a determined and devious look glinted in his eye. The window was easy enough to reach, but he had to stay quiet enough to not notify nearby elders. Just after he had gotten great footing, a small, fuzzy head popped over the windowsill. "Oh, hello!" The boy was about his age and had a silly grin on his face.

Merry swallowed nervously. "I don't suppose… You're a Took?" He was standing awkwardly, still stuck in the position of almost lifting himself up, one leg bent and the other straight.

"Well yes! I'm Pippin! Why are you standing there like that?" He kept his silly look on his face, obviously unaware of Merry's true intentions.

Merry was glad the son of the Took family was a well known fool. Even for a child, he had little excuse. Rumor had it, the boy had accidentally set his burrow on fire trying to make a mud pie! That's when footsteps could be heard from inside the house. In a panic, Merry grabbed the other boy and pulled him out of the window. Without much protest the boy followed him into a hole that hid them well behind the brush. As a face popped out of the window and grumbled something about "Stupid Proudfoots." Merry turned back to the boy which he had pinned and silenced with his hand. His face looked surprised and excited in the same moment. "S-sorry." Merry released him. "You… You won't tell on me, will you?"

Pippin looked confused. "What do I have to tell? I don't even know your name!" Pippin laughed cheerily.

Merry smiled. "I'm Merry, Meriadoc Brandybuck!" He held out his hand for the shorter boy. Pippin took it happily, smiling up to the blonde kid. "Oh, and… I was kind of trying to steal some of the Longbottom leaf…" He scratched the back of his head somewhat guiltily.

"Oh, alright! I know an easier way in, want to try tomorrow? The old bag's going to be patrolling the rest of the night." Merry looked Pippin in the eye and new immediately he had found an accomplice.

"Pip…" He pat the Took on the shoulder. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship." They both laughed, a wicked gleam in their eyes.

Merry felt his chest tighten, and he gasped, trying to breath and not having an easy time doing so. He felt a soft, cold hand on his cheek and calm washed over him, sending him into dreams once more.

Terrible shrieks filled the night air and jolted Merry awake. He was in the Ranger's room. His first instinct was to look for Pippin, and found him he did. Sweat beaded both their foreheads as a restless night was made more terrifying. Without so much as a thought, Merry grabbed for Pippin's hand beneath the covers, and both of them seemed to calm at this action. So long as the other was there, neither could be truly scared. As Aragorn explained to Frodo the horrifying Ringwraiths, Pippin's eyes came to half-mast and after a moment, Merry looked over to see his friend asleep, the pressure not lighter on his hand.

His body was hot, yet freezing. It felt like his entire body was under attack, and there was no escape. He cried out in pain, and felt cool lips on his forehead. He breathed, and was calmed by the stroking of his hair. It wasn't long until he was no longer conscious.

This memory was a tad hazy, although one of the most recent. Perhaps it was because in this time of great confusion and haste, they had a small moment of peace. Sitting atop Saruman's storehouse, the two smoked the Longbottom Leaf, watching the Ents move with a slow grace. Water sloshing about below made a soothing rush, and the breeze ruffled their hair softly as though they were carried by Treebeard once again. The small motion of leaning over and placing his lips on his friend's cheek was not in the least awkward to Merry, although it was a bit out of place. There was nothing to reassure Pip about, no real reason to kiss him on the cheek other than being at peace, and even that wasn't a reason.

However, the look on the Took's face pulled a bemused smile from Merry, and if he wasn't feeling like he had just done something out of the ordinary he probably would have burst out laughing. Pippin turned to him, eyes wide with curiosity and a bit of confusion, the cheek that hadn't been kissed bulging with the large bite of salted pork. He chewed twice, swallowed, and then asked in a rather disoriented tone, "What was that for, Merry?" in that little Took accent of his, place the accent on 'that' without sounding accusing. Wha-twas that for, Mer-reh?

The questioned shrugged and leaned back on one hand, staring out over the great expanse of Fangor with a contented smile on his face.

"No reason, Pip." Just wanted to.

Hazy vision, slipping between reality and memory, Merry floated in a painfully cold sea. The only warmth Merry felt was something her held in his hand. He pulled the warmth to his chest, wanting so desperately to warm himself.

The journey was so long and so hard, that after Gandalf's fall, Merry and Pippin were so tired from the sadness and the running, it did not take them long to fall asleep under Galadriel's tree. But just before Merry fell into dreams, he felt a tiny hand wrap around his own.

Merry opened his eyes to find Pippin in his arms, and Pippin had snuggled himself close to his chest. Merry, though with anyone else it would be very different; felt content in this moment. He watched as the sun rose and shone in Pippin's hair, and he looked like a gift from the elves, beautifully crafted and delicate. As Pippin began to stir, Merry loosened his own grip, which he had not noticed tighten.

Perhaps even without Gandalf, Merry could find hope.