A/N: This story takes place in 1415 S.R., the year Paladin Took becomes The Took and Thain of the Shire. Saradoc Brandybuck has been The Master of Buckland for seven years. Pippin is 25 years old and Merry is approaching his 33^rd birthday.

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The hedges and flowers rushed by in a blur as Merry and Pippin ran. They could barely hear Mrs. Bracegirdle's howls of protest as her hobbit-hole shrank into the distance behind them. It really wasn't their fault that Mrs. Bracegirdle made the best apple pies in the Shire. How could anyone expect them to resist? They knew where to get the best of everything the Shire offered. There were vegetables and mushrooms from Farmer Maggot's abundant fields, jams and jellies from Mrs. Proudfoot, rolls, muffins and cakes from Mrs. Goodbody, fresh apples from Farmer Cotton's orchard, and, of course, pies from Mrs. Bracegirdle.

"Can we stop running yet, Merry?" Pippin panted, glancing behind them and seeing no one in pursuit.

"The bridge, Pippin, we agreed," Merry gasped in some air, "we agreed, we hide under the bridge. Don't go changing the plans now, Pip."

The little bridge over the creek came into view and the two fugitive hobbits headed straight for it. They crouched down ducking under the single archway that made up the short bridge. They were both a bit winded as they sat down to survey their booty.

"A most glorious pie, Pippin, glorious!"

"And the smell Merry, could anything else smell that good?"

They both leaned over the pie breathing in huge exaggerated sniffs of pie fragrance.

"Do you have the forks, Merry?"

"I thought you’d have them."

"No, I told you I didn't."

"No, you said you did, Pippin."

"No, you said, 'You've not got the forks do you?' And I said, 'Yes.' "

"Which meant, yes you had the forks."

"No, it meant, yes, you're right I've not got the forks." Pippin was starting to look confused. "I thought that meant you had them, Merry."

They looked at each other, looked at the pie, then they just dug into it with their hands. A very few moments later two contented, sticky hobbit lads laid back on the bank of the creek under the little bridge.

"That was just too good," Merry sighed while he started licking the remainders of pie filling along with crust crumbs off his fingers.

" 'Twas that, my dear cousin," replied Pippin as he performed the same task on his own hands. "The best pie we've had since, well, since we borrowed one from her last week!" He looked over at Merry and smiled. "We're a great team, you and I, we always will be." Pippin had looked back at his hands or he would have seen Merry flinch at that last comment. "Don't you agree, Merry? We're a great team, right?"

"Yes," Merry said quietly. He had an odd look on his face, like something pained him. He sat back up, so that Pippin couldn't see his face. "Always will be." He kept his tone level so that Pippin wouldn't hear the sadness in his voice. His younger cousin prattled on, not noticing that Merry had become quiet and withdrawn.

Merry stood up but only half way so as not to bang his head on the underside of the bridge. "Let's go, Pippin."

"So soon?" Pippin stood, just as cautiously, then started to follow Merry out from under the bridge.

"Yes. I said we need to go," Merry answered gruffly.

"Alright, alright! I meant no harm, Merry. No need to snap my head off." Pippin sounded hurt.

Merry looked at his younger cousin, feeling badly for his sharp remark. "I'm sorry Pip. I'm . . ." Merry paused as though he couldn't think of what he wanted to say. "I'm . . . well . . . I'm getting a headache. I need to take a nap or something."

"If you say so." Pippin sounded disappointed that they were heading back so soon.

"Yes, I said so!" Merry snapped again. He took a quick breath, let it out slowly, then more gently he added, "I think it best that we go."

"Alright," said Pippin while eyeing his cousin suspiciously. What was bothering Merry, he wondered? "I'll get Mrs. Bracegirdle's pie plate back to her window sill later then. In a few weeks we have to get some apples from Farmer Cotton's orchard."

Merry brightened up. "Oh yes! Good thinking Pip. We'll keep an eye on them!"

Gradually their conversation returned to normal, although when they got back to Great Smials, Merry did go off alone to his room. Pippin stared after him as he went away along the tunnel. Was it his imagination or was Merry getting rather grumpy? Pippin shrugged it off before going in the opposite direction toward the kitchen. He didn't want to miss afternoon tea.

Pippin woke slowly to the sound of his name being whispered in his ear.

"Pippin, c'mon!" The words were getting clearer "Pip!"

This time his name was accompanied by a shove to his shoulder. Pippin opened his eyes, waiting for the face in front of his to come into focus. It was Merry's face, so close he could feel Merry's breath.

"It's about time! C'mon, we've plans for today, remember?"

Thought's circled in Pippin's head. Apples. Farmer Cotton's apples. They had been keeping an eye on those apples for almost two weeks.

"Apples?" He said the word slowly, sounding odd with his sleep heavy voice.

Merry grinned broadly as he patted his cousin none too gently on the head. "Right, those jewels among apples. Cotton's Sweet Crisps! The delight of the Shire." His eyes closed in a moment of reverence, then opened again, bright and eager. "I walked by his orchard yesterday on my way back from Bag End and they should be perfect today. Remember I told you? Apples today, Pip!"

Pippin closed his eyes then opened them again slowly. It seemed to be taking more effort than it should to wake up, especially with the prospect of those glorious apples before him. He didn’t feel ill really, his head just seemed to want to stay in the fogginess of sleep and, though he blinked several times, his eyes didn't want to clear.

"I don't know, Merry." Pippin’s words were still slow and drowsy. "I . . . I'm awfully tired."

"No, you don't!" There was a sharp edge in Merry's voice. "I've been counting on this. You know I'm too heavy to get the best ones, they're always out at the ends of the branches. You're the one light enough to get them. You are not backing out on me now, Pippin Took!"

Pippin's eyes opened wide. He knew that tone. Merry was still being grumpy. He had been getting worse actually, and that pitch to his voice meant that there would be an argument if Pippin dared to disagree. They had weathered many arguments over the years as best friends often do, but lately . . . well lately Pippin much preferred to avoid them. Merry's temper seemed to be getting quicker and hotter. Pippin was quite concerned but didn't know how to find out what was wrong. Whenever he tried to ask about it, Merry either changed the subject by joking, making Pippin laugh or more often now, he would say something sharp then just go quiet.

"You're right. I'm getting up. I'm coming." Pippin threw off his covers and went to the wardrobe. He coughed a bit as he pulled out a shirt, trousers, braces, and his scarf from off the hook on the inside of the wardrobe door, then started getting dressed. The cousins stopped off at the kitchen grabbing a dozen rolls each, before heading off for Farmer Cotton's apple orchard, each with a large carry-bag over one shoulder.

It wasn't very far from Great Smials to the orchard. The sky was aglow with the shadowless light of predawn. Even the birds had been up no longer than the two hobbits. They walked along at an easy pace, arms swinging slightly. Pippin thought he knew why he was feeling tired. He had helped with the harvest for two days while Merry had visited Frodo at Bag End. Pippin's father, Paladin II, had just that year become The Took and Thain of the Shire. Although they had moved into Great Smials, Pippin’s family still farmed their land in Whitwell. Even in the Shire's wealthiest families usually everyone helped with planting and harvest. "You appreciate more what you work for," claimed the old adage that was held in high respect by all the hobbits of the Shire. Pippin and Merry walked everywhere, as did most hobbits, as well as the running and climbing they did on their escapades, so they were in good shape. But doing harvest work was out of the ordinary. Long hours with few breaks, with those coming not when you wanted them but when someone else decided it was time. It was no wonder that his chest ached when he took a deep breath, he'd done a lot of lifting in those two days. Pippin stretched his left side out to ease a kink that was developing there.

They hadn't talked much as they walked to the orchard. The thought came to Pippin that they had been talking less to each other for about as long a time as Merry had been getting grumpier. Merry's answers to questions were short. He no longer bothered to chatter on about the every day, little things they used to spend hours talking about. Pippin wished he could find out what was wrong for something obviously was. Merry seemed upset with him and Pippin had no idea what he had done.

"Looks to be a nice day." Pippin ventured to say.

"Huh? Oh, yes I suppose so."

"Not too cold yet."

"No, nice still"

Then a long quiet again. Birds chirped. The dirt of the path crunched under their feet. They walked along in silence. They were close friends so silence usually did not trouble them, though more often they were as chatty as starlings. This silence was different. Pippin felt squirmy, like he just had to get Merry to talk. He tried to find a pleasant subject to talk about.

"How are things going for your party? Have you heard from your Mum?" He asked. Merry didn't answer. "It's only a week away now. You’re leaving for The Hall tomorrow, aren’t you?"

"Yes," Merry said tersely.

Pippin didn't notice the growing tenseness in Merry's shoulders. He didn't see Merry's jaw muscles flexing as he clenched his teeth. Pippin kept talking, he didn't know what else to do. "Bet there'll be tons of food! I know we're bringing some of my Mum's cakes with us. Not everyday that you come of age Merry," Pippin said cheerily as he envisioned tables that strained to hold the load of a true hobbit feast.

"Fat lot you would know about it!" Merry's words were hard and totally unexpected. Pippin jerked to a stop. Merry turned toward Pippin, his face suddenly flushed, his eyes open wide, the irises dark. "You know nothing about it!" Merry should have been shouting the words so much force was in them, but they were oddly, coldly quiet. "You don't know anything about anything. I do all your thinking for you. Always have, most likely always will. That's why we're a 'great team'. But it won't last forever. You know nothing about it! You do stupid foolish things that always go wrong. What will you do if I'm not there to help? I don't think you've ever had an original idea in your whole life. Well have you, Peregrin Took?"

Pippin hadn't moved. For several long moments he stood there staring, his mouth slightly open. He blinked. Then he stood a bit straighter. Pippin had never felt so hurt and angry at the same instant. Merry had called him such things as foolish before but this was different. There was a difference in Merry's voice and the look in his eyes. He sounded as though he really meant it all this time. Pippin was horribly shaken. He had done nothing he could recall to deserve this treatment. He'd done his best to humor Merry, putting up with all his grumpiness. He had given in on nearly every disagreement. Into his mind came the image of himself tackling Merry then sitting on him while punching his face. No, he couldn't do that! Hobbits rarely come to blows with each other, never when good friends. Pippin turned and walked away hoping to make the image fade. He needed to get away but Merry followed him. He grabbed Pippin's arm, spinning him around.

"And it's not just you!" Merry continued in that horrible quiet voice. "It's the whole lot of you Tooks! Thain of the Shire! It's like Master of the Hall it shouldn't make a person change. Doesn't seem to change you Tooks! You all just stay the same. You're strange. You wander off, you act oddly. The whole lot of you foolish Tooks! You . . ."

The sentence stopped with the sound of breath rushing out of Merry's lungs as he went down on his knees in the dirt of the path. Pippin stood over him. His right hand was still balled up in a fist, his green eyes afire. He said nothing. He stood over Merry a few seconds more as Merry wrapped his arms around his stomach while gasping in air. Then Pippin turned and walked heavily away.

II

Pippin's hand was still in a fist, so tight his knuckles were white and his fingers were starting to hurt. Tears were running down his cheeks. He hadn't looked back. He hadn't slowed his stride. He was almost back to Great Smials when he finally stopped, swaying slightly where he stood. Then he did look back, though he knew he had come too far to see Merry.

He let out the breath he had been holding as he looked down at his still fisted hand. He had punched Merry. As dear to him as anyone in his life, excepting his Mum and Da, and he had punched him. He stared at his fist suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. He turned aside from the path to fall to his knees in the deep grass gaging and retching. He was dizzy as well as feeling so weary again. Too many thoughts were flying through his mind making him even dizzier. Why was Merry so angry with him? Why had he hit Merry? The stomach spasms continued painfully on for what seemed to be many long minutes. Gradually they subsided, allowing Pippin to wearily work his way up to stand. He actually felt a little bit better, though still oddly tired.

He walked over to a nearby oak tree and sat down, leaning his back against the rough bark. Maybe things weren't so bad. If something he had done was troubling Merry, he would just have to figure out what it was. He could do that. Nobody knew Merry as well as he did. Pippin, for the time being, chose not to think about the business of the punch. It was harder to think anything positive about that and anyway, he was trying to solve Merry's problem. His own could wait.

The day seemed to be getting quite warm for the time of year. He took his jacket off. He started to take a deep breath but it made him cough. The cough made his chest hurt so for a few minutes he sat with his hand to his chest to ease the aching. It wasn’t a rattley cough like he usually had when he was sick, yet he didn’t seem to be able to breathe very deeply either. The pain slowly eased. Pippin went back to working out Merry's problem. He leaned back against the tree trying to think about anything he might have done that could make Merry hate him, but he came up empty. He just didn't seem to be getting on well with his thinking, his mind kept wandering. He was getting a headache. Pippin drifted off to sleep.

When Pippin awoke, his vision was blurry, his whole body ached. Where before the day had felt too warm, it now felt too cold. He was shivering but didn't think to put his jacket back on. His only thought was that he had made Merry hate him. Everything was his fault. He had hit his best friend. Pippin stood up only to nearly fall over. He had to lean against the tree for a while. Thoughts slogged through his head. He had to apologize to Merry. He had to make it right. He would make it right then everything would be like it had been before. He coughed hard, doubling over with his hands clutching his chest. His chest hurt still. As he slowly stood straight again, he started to think about writing to Merry. It was something positive he could do which made him feel a bit cheerier. He waited till he caught his breath. Stumbling a little he covered the rest of the way to Great Smials then along the edge of the hill the huge smial was built into to his bedroom window. He used the trick latch that he and Merry had rigged up so the window could be opened from the outside then climbed in onto his desk. He squirmed around to get his feet on the floor then sat in the chair at the desk. He took paper from the top right drawer, pulled over his inkstand and pen. Pippin opened the inkwell, dipped the pen and with a trembling hand brought the pen to the paper.

Merry lay on his side in the dirt of the path to the orchard. With his eyes closed to shut out the spinning scenery, he waited for his breath to quit coming in ragged gasps. In his mind he watched the whole hideous episode replay itself as though he were an onlooker standing a few feet away. He heard the words that seemed to come from somewhere else spoken icily to Pippin. Such coldness. Pippin trying to walk away, the Merry he felt so detached from yanking Pippin back. More ice cold poisonous words from that thing that couldn't be himself. Pippin's arm drawing back . . . the dreadful vision fading.

Merry opened his eyes. This time the world held still. He sat up, hugged his knees towards his chest then rested his forehead on his knees. Why had he said such horrible things to Pippin? Then Merry remembered, Pippin had asked about the party. Merry's party. His coming of age party. A chill ran down Merry's spine. Coming of age. In the last few months he'd grown to hate those words, now they had caused all of this. He sat for a long while thinking of many things. When at last he looked up it was with a stern determination in his dark blue eyes. It was time he spoke to someone about it. He stood up, brushed as much of the dirt as he could from his clothes, then turned to start walking toward Great Smials. After only three steps he stopped. No. Not Pippin. He couldn't face Pippin yet. He wondered if Pippin would ever agree to see him again after all the things he had said. He looked longingly down the path, breathed a heavy sigh, then Meriadoc Brandybuck turned, heading instead towards Hobbiton and Bag End.

Sam was smiling as he looked up from the mums he was planting beside the flagstone walk that ran from the gate to the front door of Bag End. Mr. Merry was coming up the road. Sam's smile faded fast as he noticed that Merry's expression was anything but his usual happily mischievous one. He was too pale and Sam could tell he was clenching his teeth.

"Good afternoon Sam, is Frodo about?"

"He's in his study, Mr. Merry. You can just go on in." Sam didn't joke like he normally would, Merry's look warned him not to. He waited for Merry to go in the round green door, shutting it behind himself. Then Sam casually took his potting tools around to the other side of Bag End. He only hoped the study window was open as usual.

Half an hour later, Merry was drawing to the end of his recounting of the morning's disaster. Frodo had listened attentively while watching Merry carefully. He knew his cousin well. He knew when he was hiding something, holding something back. Frodo could tell there had to be more to all this but he had the patience to let Merry get to it in his own way.

"Then he hit me, Frodo." Merry kept his eyes focused on the mug of tea in his hands, not wanting to see the look on Frodo's face as he heard those words. "He punched me in the stomach knocking the wind right out of me."

"Pippin?" Frodo's voice sounded understandably shocked. "Pippin hit you? Hard enough to hurt you? I find that hard to believe. He just wouldn't do such a thing. He's a well brought up hobbit-lad," Frodo paused. "Not that I'm doubting you Merry. It just doesn't seem possible."

Merry raised his eyes to meet Frodo's. "You didn't see the look in his eyes after he did it. If the punch hadn't winded me, his look certainly would have. It took away what little breath I had left." Merry's eyes looked far away. Far away from the staid study at Bag End to another place and time. "I saw the spirits of the old Tooks in his eyes, Frodo. Bandobras Took who routed that orc invasion into the Shire in, what was the year? Eleven something. Three hundred years ago. Yes, a fierceness that came from very deep inside. I'd no idea what I had aroused in him." Merry's gaze returned to the present. He looked again at Frodo, a self depreciating grin showed about his lips and in his eyes. "Not, mind you, that I really had any idea of what I was doing at all." His eyes went back to staring at his tea. "If any hobbit ever deserved to be hit by another hobbit, I did."

Neither spoke for several long minutes. Frodo looked at Merry's slumped shoulders, his bowed head and his heart ached. If there were two hobbits who were the epitomes of hobbitish cheerful high spirits it was Merry and Pippin. He waited a bit longer but Merry's thoughts had obviously wandered elsewhere. Frodo knew at which point in the tale things had gone sour, he knew what had set Merry off. What Frodo didn't know was why. He leaned forward to get Merry’s attention.

"What exactly is it that Pippin doesn't know about coming of age?"

Merry's head came up so fast that the tea in his mug sloshed over the rim. Fear, surprise, anger and confusion all showed on his face. His body tensed then just as quickly collapsed even lower into the chair than it had been before.

"Oh Frodo, It's . . . I'm . . . " Merry struggled with words that weren't adequate to the feelings inside. The dam burst, the flood rushed out. "I'll be Master of the Hall! I'll have to be head of the family and head of Buckland and my Father will be dead and I won't have time . . ." Merry gulped in some air, "I won't have time for, I won't be . . . I'll have to be grown up and Pippin is still in his tweens and I won't be able to run around with him anymore and I'll have lost them both." Merry appeared to have shrunk into the big overstuffed chair. His body shook with sobs and anger. He hit the arm of the chair with his fist. "I don't want to come of age but I can't avoid it. I don't want any of it. I want to stay the same. It's not right. It's not right to do all that to someone just because they're a year older. One stupid year older and your doom hangs over your head." He was staring unblinkingly into Frodo's eyes.

"You're running way ahead of yourself, Merry." Frodo said. He returned Merry's stare but with a solid calm in the face of Merry's anger. He kept his voice soft and relaxed. "Your Dad is fine."

"But he isn't!"

Frodo blinked as he sat back in his chair. "He isn't?"

"Well," Merry hesitated, then took a deep breath before continuing more quietly than before. "Well I guess he's better now. I don't feel sure though. He's been sick so much this last year, you remember?"

Frodo nodded. He'd not thought about it but Saradoc Brandybuck had been sick a lot the previous year, one time quite seriously. "I'd forgotten Merry but yes your family had a rough time over the last year. He's better now though. I saw him last week and he said he's as well as ever."

"He says it, but is he? I'm just not sure. He came close to . . . to dying five months ago. Only five months. And that's when it hit me, once I turn thirty-three it would all fall to me. I would be Master of Buckland only because of being thirty-three. Not because I would be ready for it. Certainly not because I want it just yet. Just because of a number; a stupid number."

Merry took a deep breath then let it out slowly. He wanted to stay calm, he’d had enough of losing his temper at his cousins. "After that I couldn't let the thought go. It haunted me. I've kept watching my Dad for any signs that he was getting sick again. And then, when I finally felt that I didn't have to watch him so closely I started going off with Pippin once more." Merry smiled. "It was so great. I'd missed him and his cheerfulness, missed the fun we have. But . . ."

Merry breathed deeply again as the smile faded. He was still working hard at keeping his composure. He turned his head a bit to stare out the study window. "But soon I started to think that if, if I had to be Master of Buckland, then I wouldn't have time for Pippin any longer. I couldn't act wild or have fun with him any longer. And like the thoughts of my Dad dying, I couldn’t shake the thoughts of not being with Pippin. I started to fear and hate everything that has to do with coming of age. I felt I couldn't talk to anyone about it either. I didn't want my Dad to think I was turning against my family and who we are, who I am, and I didn't want to frighten Pippin. Ha! I called Pippin a fool." He turned his gaze back to meet Frodo's eyes and Frodo saw a deep, awful emptiness there. "But I'm the fool Frodo. A worse fool than Pip has ever been. I let everything go at him and none of it's his fault. He said an innocent thing, but the wrong thing, and I let my anger and fears stab him in the heart." Merry's voice faded to a barely heard whisper. "I've brought about the thing I dreaded, I've lost my dearest friend."

It was done at last. Merry breathed a heavy sigh. He felt as drained and empty as his eyes looked. Yet the telling had started the healing. After a few moments there was a tiny spark of hope in his heart.

"What do you think Frodo? Do you think he'll forgive me?"

"Of course he will!"

The answer came not from Frodo but from the study window. Frodo and Merry jumped in surprise then both turned to see Sam standing outside.

"You're a fool indeed, Mr. Merry, if you think any different!" Sam said through the window in the voice he used to address little hobbits who asked silly questions. "Will he forgive you? Do you think for one minute that Mr. Pippin cares less for you than you do for him? And you can't really think he know's nothin’ of all of that carryin’ on for one's family stuff. Who's to be The Took and Thain of the Shire some day? Young Master Pippin's not the most deep thinkin’ soul, but he surely knows who he is and what's before him. Thought you were smarter than that I did!"

"Care to come in and join the conversation Sam? It seems you've been listening anyway." Frodo was having trouble hiding the laugh that was rising inside of him. Sam had a habit of eavesdropping.

Sam stood up a little straighter and lifted his chin a bit higher than usual. "No thank you, Mr. Frodo, I've got flowers I'm plantin’," he said then walked off with an indignant air.

Frodo looked at Merry, Merry looked at Frodo. Laughter burst out of them. They laughed until tears came and they were gasping for air.

"He's got me." Merry finally wheezed out the words. "He's got me dead to rights." A few more deep breaths and Merry continued. "What do you suggest cousin Frodo, do I send a message to Great Smials or just show up on the doorstep?"

Frodo thought for a few moments. "A message. Tell him you're greatly sorry and wish to talk with him alone at Brandy Hall when the Tooks come to help with your birthday preparations. It might help if you no longer seem to be dreading your birthday. Pippin will see that you've thought about things, that the apology is sincere. We'll send it Immediate Delivery by the Messenger Service, it should get there by this evening at the latest. That will give him plenty of time to mull things over while he and his family are on their way to Brandy Hall." A sly grin came to Frodo's lips. "And you need be extra sweet to your dear Mother, Master Meriadoc Brandybuck."

"Always, Dear Cousin. Why the reminder?"

"What was her maiden name? Now let me see if I remember." Frodo's grin grew broader, his eyes sparkled. "Ah yes! Took! Pippin's Aunt Esmeralda as I recall. A sister to Pippin's Father isn't she? Those same Tooks you insulted so badly aren't they? "

Merry's mouth dropped open, his eyes grew huge. "Oh dear!" He closed his eyes as a shiver passed through him. "I called my Mum a fool!" Then suddenly he laughed. He looked at Frodo. "I owe myself a letter of apology too! I'm half Took!" Frodo and Merry both laughed long and heartily.

"Where do you keep your pen and paper?" Merry said when at last he'd caught his breath. "I've at least one letter to write."

The paper, pen and ink were produced, the letter written, then taken by Sam to the Postmaster's office with word that it was to be delivered immediately. After a afternoon tea, Merry started on his journey home to Brandy Hall on a pony Frodo loaned him, feeling better than he had felt in months.

It was getting dark in Pippin's room but it was already dark in his heart. He had tried to write a letter to Merry. All the attempts lay crumpled or torn into shreds on the floor. "Dear Merry" No. "Dearest Merry" Crossed out. "Cousin Merry" Crumpled. "Merry" That one he had kept, then didn't know what else to write. "I have to . . ." No, torn in two. "I want to . . ." No. "I must . . ." Yes. "Apologize." Too formal, scratched out, torn three times, crumpled. "Say I'm sorry." Yes, but not quite. "Beg your forgiveness." Yes, beg. Begging was right. But not forgiveness. Pippin knew he was unforgivable.

He had finally given up. He now felt there was nothing he could do to repair the damage he had done. He felt cold, lonely and uncomfortable. Everything ached. After changing into his nightshirt and wool robe, he had looked at the heap of his clothes on the floor. The clothes he had worn when he had hit Merry. Suddenly he stooped down, swept them into his arms and headed to his fireplace. He built a meager little fire then picked up his shirt, gently laying it on the burning wood. The shirt writhed, smoldered and flamed.

"Good bye, Pippin Took!" Pippin said to the smoke as it rose. He then placed his trousers, braces and all, on top of the burning shirt. "Good bye." He grabbed the poker that hung at the side of the fireplace. "You're not even a good hobbit Peregrin Took." He stabbed weakly at the clothes. "You hit your cousin." Another stab of the poker. "You punched him in anger." Stab. Stab. "So go away!" He stabbed his burning clothes once more. One item of clothing still lay upon the floor. He grabbed his scarf. The tassels swung dangerously close to the flames before he pulled his hand back. His scarf. He might have been burning himself in effigy, he might have wanted to get rid of the self he was so ashamed of, but . . . no. Not the scarf. His Grandmother had made it for his Father. Pippin had found it one very cold winter day when he was going with his Dad to help the poorer hobbits who lived around Whitwell and Tuckborough. Paladin had solemnly knelt before him and with a gentle touch tied the scarf about Pippin's neck. They had spent the ride to the farms talking of Grandma Took, how she had loved to knit, how she had loved her family. "'She'll be glad for you to have it, my little Peregrin," his Dad had said as he reached over to give the dangling ends of the scarf a tug. Pippin had treasured it ever since, always having it around his neck or close at hand.

Pippin cried and cried, rocking gently while he hugged his scarf. One end he clutched to his heart the other lay against his cheek, there catching some of his tears. The crying made him start coughing once more. His chest and back ached. His heart ached. He felt totally alone in the world. The flames had eaten the shirt and trousers then died slowly away. Pippin sat there still, hugging his scarf while his room grew cold and dark.

Pearl had been rushing around all day. Trying to get such a big family ready to travel to Brandy Hall for Merry's coming of age party was no easy task so the ladies of the Took household had their hands full. It didn't help that the trip took more than two days to make and there was no town at the half way point, only an inn. They had to be sure they would have everything for the trip as well as what was needed to help with the party.

Pearl sighed. She felt she had walked every tunnel in Great Smials three times over. As she walked past Pippin's room, she was thinking about the extra sets of dishes they were taking . Were there enough? Had they been packed properly? She suddenly stopped. A sound had worked its way through the thoughts of dishes. Someone was coughing, coughing hard. As a healer, that was not a sound she liked to hear. She stepped to Pippin's bedroom door putting her ear to the wood. Nothing. No sound at all. Pearl shook her head as she turned away, her thoughts returning to the dishes. She heard another hacking cough. Turning again to the door, this time she opened it.

It was dark inside the room. Only a bit of pale moonlight flowed in through the round window. The coughing continued, coming from over by the fireplace but in the gloom she could see nothing.

"Pippin?" She called.

"Go away." A strange rough voice replied, followed by more coughing.

Pearl went back into the hallway and lifted a candle sconce from the wall. She went into Pippin's room holding the candle high. On the floor in front of the over-stuffed chair by the cold, dark fireplace was the huddled figure of her younger brother. As she came around the left side of the chair he tried to scoot away but his movements were unusually slow and clumsy. Her hand touched his shoulder but he pulled away.

"No!" Came the rough whispery voice.

She dropped to her knees before him, taking his chin in her hand to make him look at her. He was hot. Before she even touched his skin she could feel the heat coming from him. She turned his face toward hers. His cheeks were flushed with fever, sickly darkness circled his eyes. He kept his eyes lowered. More coughing shook his body, his hair was soaked with sweat. She reached over to hang the sconce on the hook where the fireplace poker had hung then turned her full attention to Pippin. She took hold of both of his shoulders but he shrank away from her touch.

"No!" He said frantically. "Don't touch me!" He had found some strength within himself, enough to jerk free of her grasp. He backed away around the right side of the chair while staring at her with eyes like a trapped animal's.

"No! Don't touch me I'm horrible! I hit him! I punched him! I'm horrible!" He drew in a shallow, rasping breath before going on. "I hit him, do you understand? Hobbits don't hit each other." There was another wheezing intake of air, his eyes were wild with the white showing all around. "I'm not even a hobbit anymore. So I left. I'm gone. I went with the smoke." He was sobbing now with his wide staring eyes fixed on the fireplace. "With the smoke. All gone in the smoke." He held his scarf up in front of his eyes. He sobbed, choked and coughed. Weaker now he spoke again. "Not the scarf though, no, not Pippin's scarf. A little bit of Pippin left behind." He turned his gaze to his sister, his eyes now filled with grief, tears flowing down his cheeks. Pippin held the scarf out to Pearl. "Do you want what's left of Pippin the Fool of the Tooks? He hit a fellow hobbit. He hit his best friend so he had to leave. He left this when he went away with the smoke. Couldn't burn that could he? No. Not his scarf."

Pearl sat frozen in place. What was wrong with her dear little brother? He was sounding mad. Was he that fevered? Pippin's hand that held his scarf dropped to his lap. He leaned against the chair. The sudden burst of terror and its energy was leaving him. He stared at Pearl with sad, pain filled eyes.

"Help me Pearl." He whispered. "I think I'm sick. I must be sick. I hit Merry and I'm sick. Help me." His body started to slump. Pearl barely caught him before his head hit the floor. She laid him down gently , then ran from the room in search of anyone who could help.

The lights of The Floating Log Inn at Frogmorton twinkled invitingly in the dark. It was more early morning than actual night time but here some lights were always shining to welcome any weary traveler. A solitary rider approached. He dismounted then led his pony into the yard. After wrapping the reins around a hitching post he went and banged the large door knocker three times. After a short wait he could hear the sounds of the innkeeper hurrying to the door.

"I'm comin’! Comin’!" the innkeeper hollered. The door opened to let the warm light spill out onto the guest on his doorstep. "Mr. Merry!

Welcome, welcome! You're out and about late, young Master. Or should I say early?" Tom Burrow winked as he stepped aside to let Merry through the door.

"Yes Tom, I left Hobbiton after teatime," Merry said as he shook back his hood. "Is it too late to get something to eat? I didn't bother stopping at Bywater and I'm more than hungry now."

"The kitchen is always open here, Mr. Merry! You just head on to your room and I'll bring a nice bite along in a quick bit." Tom hurried off towards his kitchen. Merry trudged off to his room. One hour later Merry, both thirst and hunger taken care of, was sound asleep.

Early on the next morning his journey continued. The weather was warm for the autumn so he had taken off his cloak, draping it across the pommel of the saddle. The sun shone down, the leaves were glorious colors, the air fresh. The only thing Merry missed was Pippin. Pippin's smiling face, his small though sharp features alight with mirth, came into his mind. Merry sighed, but then his own face brightened. Pippin will have gotten the letter by now. Merry just knew things would be alright. He had written a good letter. He just had to get home, wait for the Tooks to arrive, pull Pippin aside and get everything settled out. It was a day’s ride yet to the Bridge Inn at the Brandywine Bridge, then most of a day’s ride from there to Brandy Hall. He clicked to the pony and its walk changed to a quick trot. Merry could hardly wait to get home.

The glorious sunrise only mocked the sadness that filled the many tunnels and rooms of Great Smials. There was an unaccustomed quiet in the large dwelling. Adults stood about in small groups talking quietly, young hobbit children clung to their parents or older siblings. The "tweens" gathered at the edges of the rooms or in corners and looked uncomfortable. Peregrin Took, heir to the family titles, usually energetic and mischievous, lay in his room deathly ill. This had happened with the lad before, but his family had not lived at the Smials at that time nor had his father been The Took and Thain. The Tooks of the Shire had just finished having a head of their huge clan who left no heirs, they really did not want to go through that again. That and the lad was a rather fun, popular sort.

Sunlight seeped into the bedroom, the candles were extinguished. Eglantine Took sat beside the bed that held her only son. Her little boy, though really not so little anymore. Behind her Paladin paced. He couldn't sit still. He couldn't look at his son's sickly pale face. Paladin's heart tightened in his chest. He couldn't stay in the room very long. He hadn't been able to stay there all through the long night. Paladin went to where Lanti kept her vigil and gently touched her shoulder. Their worried eyes met, she understood her husband's sorrow. Lanti knew he had never been able to abide sick rooms. She reached up to give his hand a squeeze then Paladin sadly left his wife to watch over their son.

Eglantine Took was a healer. She had inherited the gift, then learned the skills from her mother as she was now passing them onto her daughter Pearl, who also had the gift. Lanti had listened to Pippin's desperate efforts to breathe. With her ear to his chest she had heard how little air rewarded his efforts. She hesitated to use a cold bath to lower his temperature, not with his lungs so congested. So the night had been a long weary time of soaking towels in cold water, wringing them out, then laying them on Pippin's limbs and forehead, but not on his chest. She and Pearl had kept on even when their hands lost their feeling from the cold water. Her other daughters, Pimpernel and Pervinca, had kept up with bringing the buckets of cold water even though their arms and backs ached. Finally his fever had broken. For now, at least, Pippin only felt a bit warm, not blazing hot. The oil cloth they had put beneath him had been removed. Fresh sheets had been put on the bed and a sheet now covered him.

Lanti had kept her composure all through the long night but now that she was alone with her sick child her weariness claimed her. She began to weep. She gently laid her palm to his cheek. It was something she had done ever since he was little, whenever she had checked on him as he slept or just before waking him. Usually, he would lean his face into her hand, even if only slightly, returning her touch. This time there was no answering pressure. A soft sob escaped her lips. Her son had slipped far away from her, her touch wasn't reaching him. Her fingers moved to touch the scarf that showed above the sheet at the side of his neck. During the night Paladin had pried it loose from Pippin's hand. Asking his wife to raise the boy's head he had passed it beneath Pippin's neck then draped an end over each shoulder. She had started to protest. Their son's fever was horribly high yet here was his father putting a wool scarf around his neck.

"He would want his scarf." Paladin had said, emotion deepening his voice, tears showing in his eyes. "Pippin always wears his scarf."

His wife's protest had died in her mouth. Paladin had left the room and the scarf had remained, cradling their son's neck with the ends of it crossed on his chest.

Pearl leaned wearily against the door to Pippin's room. She knew her mother needed time alone with her brother as she was needing time to herself. Pearl took the crumpled papers that had been on the floor of Pippin's room from one of her apron pockets. From the other she took the letter a servant had given to her when she had been out of the sick room taking a short break from soaking and wringing out towels. She had time now to read them. She felt a twinge of guilt. They were her brother's papers and the letter was addressed to him. But she hoped they might help her understand what had caused Pippin to be so terribly upset. He said he had hit Merry, an unthinkable thing. The address on the letter was in Merry's writing. Perhaps it would explain what had happened and she felt that someone needed to know what was wrong. Pearl pushed the guilty feelings aside as she took the papers and letter to the apartment she and her husband Ordegar had in the large family dwelling that is Great Smials.

IV

                                Apologetically and hoping you'll come,

                                Merry

Merry's letter lay open on Pearl's lap. Reading it hadn't helped as much as she had hoped, but it wasn't entirely fruitless. Apparently, yes; Pippin had hit Merry. Merry's, "I more than deserved what happened . . ." made that much clear. But what Merry had done to deserve such a thing, Pearl had no idea. Pippin had been desperately trying to apologize to Merry, she could tell that by what she had pieced together of the papers he had thrown on the floor. Both of them seemed to blame only himself for what had happened, granting the other full pardon. She sighed and rubbed her temples. Well, Merry would soon find out that Pippin would not be coming to his party. No one from Great Smials would be there. The messages had gone out last night, first to Hobbiton, as it was the closest town outside Tookland, then all over the Shire from there. Messages bearing the news to relatives and friends that there was someone gravely ill at Great Smials. She sighed again as she stood up. Pearl gathered up Pippin's papers and Merry's letter then put them into the hidden cubbyhole in her desk. She needed to check back with her Mother. She would be needing help with Pippin again. A long hard day stretched ahead of them all. She gave another glance back at the cubbyhole, then went out the door.

The kitchen smelled oddly. A strange combination of herbs was in various stages of preparation. Eglantine wiped the back of her hand across her damp forehead, brushing her brown curls aside. Pervinca was keeping watch over Pippin so Lanti and Pearl could get ready the medicines needed to clear the congestion in Pippin's lungs. Mustard and onions for the poultices to break up the congestion. Thyme, Rosemary and Arnica in warm oil to ease the muscle aches in his chest and back that the coughing would cause. If he started coughing. If the poultices worked. If. There was a great deal of "if" to being a healer. One often felt rather helpless, more so it always seemed when the patient was kin. And then there was the concern that the heat from the poultices and warm oil rubs would bring back his fever. Then the fight to clear his lungs would give way once again to the fight to break his fever. Lanti squared her aching shoulders.

"Pearl dear," she said, "I'm finished with this poultice. Come with me to Pippin's room. Pimpernel, come along with a bucket of that hot water. There's more water heating in the fireplace in Pippin's room and the room across the tunnel from his as well as in here. Hopefully we'll be able to keep up with what we need to keep the poultice warm. Pearl, grab some of those towels to soak in the hot water." With that Eglantine and her daughters headed down the tunnels to Pippin's room.

The battle began. The hot poultice was bound to Pippin's chest with strips of cloth then a hot towel was placed on top. The towel would be replaced as soon as it began to cool even the slightest bit. The heat and moisture kept the mustard and onion releasing their vapors. Some of the benefits of the poultice came from breathing in the vapors, others from keeping his chest heated. Both worked together, loosening the phlegm and opening the passages in his lungs. If it all worked as planned he would start coughing then they would roll him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on the phlegm the coughing would hopefully bring out of his lungs. Eglantine's Mother had seen it happen once where a patient died choking on what he had coughed up. That would not happen to her Pippin!

They all worked. The servants helped with hauling the water to refill the kettles, keeping an eye on which kettles were boiling then filling the buckets to take the water to the sick room. Pippin's youngest sisters insisted that they help their brother so anything going into or out of Pippin's room, they themselves carried. Pearl, being under her Mother's tutorage as a healer, was helping by packing the new poultice when it was time to change them. She also kept the rubbing oil at the right temperature for when it was needed. Twice, late in the afternoon, Pippin had begun coughing. Pearl and his Mum quickly rolled him to his side. But the coughing wasn't as productive as they had hoped, his breathing was still labored.

Through the day other members of the family had come in to help, as Eglantine and her daughters had needed to rest lest they become ill themselves. But either Lanti or Pearl were always there at Pippin's side, the burden of being healers. Paladin had tried but, as when he was younger, he simply could not stay long in a sick room. And somehow, this seemed worse than it had ever been. He felt that he should be by his son's side yet he just couldn't bear seeing him looking so frail, listening to him gasping for each breath. Paladin simply had to take reassurance from knowing that the scarf that had once been his own was still around Pippin's neck, a bit of himself touching his son. He hoped that somehow Pippin knew the scarf was there and that it brought him comfort. Through the weary day he stayed in the room across the tunnel from Pippin's room. When his wife took her naps, she went there. Paladin put cool cloths on her forehead, humming gentle songs to her as she slept. He felt that by helping her rest he would be helping Pippin. Then, while the day turned slowly into night, as Eglantine had feared it would, Pippin's fever returned. The poultice, with its hot towels was taken away. The oil cloth was placed beneath him again while the buckets that Pimpernel and Pervinca carried into the room were once again filled with the icy cold water form the spring on the north side of Great Smials.

Merry arrived at the Bridge Inn a bit earlier than he had expected to. As he dismounted, he noticed that his pony was badly lathered. He suddenly realized that he had pushed the little fellow a bit too hard, no wonder he had gotten here so quickly. Merry had just finished giving instructions to Rob, the stable boy, when one of the Messenger Service riders came at a gallop into the stable yard. He pulled his pony to a sliding stop, leapt off and turned to the stable boy.

"My fresh pony and be quick! It's urgent business I'm on today and I've no time to dawdle!" The Messenger Rider turned to start removing the saddle and bridle from his weary pony. It was then he noticed Merry standing there.

"Master Merry! Fancy meeting you right now. It's Brandy Hall I'm headin’ to. Might you be willin’ ta take the message? Then I could head on into Rushy and that would be savin’ me some time."

"I'd be happy to, Toby, though I'd planned to spend the night here and be on my way to the Hall in the morning."

"That won't do then Master Merry, this message is urgent, as I said to Rob, it's to be at the Hall as soon as can be done."

"What's so urgent?"

"The message came at about midnight to Hobbiton from Great Smials. It's sad news Master Merry." Toby Chubb took a deep breath. "It's your cousin, it's young Master Pippin . . ."

"Pippin!" Merry grabbed the startled young hobbit by his shoulders. "What about Pippin?"

"He's bad sick, maybe dyin' some are sayin’."

"Pippin," Merry said softly. He thought he might faint. Holding onto Toby for the moment was all that was keeping Merry from falling. While he had been having a pleasant, if hurried, ride along the East Road, Pippin had become deathly ill. Suddenly, Merry remembered that Pip had tried to stay home the morning of their argument, saying he felt too tired to go lifting apples. He remembered Pippin coughing as he got dressed and a few more times as they were on their way to the orchard. He realized his cousin had been ill that morning. "I'll take the message to the Hall, Toby, I'll leave now. Rob!" He called to the stable boy. "I need a pony immediately! Just put it on our bill. Hurry!"

"You need also tell your parents, Master Merry, that Tooks of Great Smials won't be coming to your party. They'll none of them leave with, Master Pippin ill."

"That's as it should be. I won't be at my party either, so I suppose there won't be one at all," Merry said. "As soon as I've been to the Hall I'll be heading to Great Smials."

Toby nodded. Their fresh ponies were brought and they both mounted to race out of the yard at a full gallop.

In the depth of night they came to Stock, getting fresh ponies at the Messenger Service post. Merry could hardly bear it whenever they had to slow to a trot, but the ponies couldn't run the whole way. There was simply no way to get there any faster. A short way on from Stock, they came to the road that led to the Buckleberry Ferry, then on to Brandy Hall. They parted company at this point, Merry turning left on the Ferry Road and Toby going on straight to Rushy. Finally Merry reached the ferry, crossed the Brandywine River then continued on as fast as the pony could manage to the Hall.

Things at Brandy Hall couldn't be more hectic. Anyone who was even mildly related to the Brandybucks was coming to Merry's coming of age party. Many were traveling quite a distance so on top of all the work for the party there was also guest rooms to be tidied up and beds needing freshening. It was to be the grandest event that had happened in the Shire since The Party, when old Bilbo Baggins turned eleventy-one then had mysteriously disappeared.

Esmeralda Brandybuck sang a little song to herself as she took the batch of tarts out of the oven. These were her special recipe tarts, she allowed no one else to make them. She had been up before dawn and these tarts were the first batch of the day, but definitely not the last. Merry was her pride and joy. Life had allowed her only one child so she intended that he received the best that she and Saradoc could provide. So yes, she had to admit that Merry was a bit spoiled. And the way he and her nephew Pippin behaved! She chuckled to herself. They were the terrors of the Shire. But everyone knew they were lovable lads in spite of their tricks and occasional thievery. They were as quick to help someone in need as they were to cause trouble. And their fathers made sure they were punished for their misdeeds . . . if and when they managed to catch them. She smiled. Soon such behavior would be behind Merry as he started to take on more of the responsibilities of handling the affairs of Buckland. Yes his coming of age would be a grand occasion.

"Mum! You in the kitchen, Mum?!"

Esme turned to look where the door out to the herb garden stood open. Merry rushed straight to her, enveloping her in a hug. He hadn't hugged her so tightly in a long time. He was crying. Not just crying, sobbing hard like a child might do. She returned his hug while patting him on the shoulder.

"Merry? Merry? What's wrong dear?"

He just held her tighter. It was quite awhile before his hold on her loosened and he pulled back a bit to look at her.

He took in a quick deep breath. "Pippin's sick again, Mum. Rumor is he might be dying. I met up with Toby Chubb. He was on his way here with the message from Great Smials."

"Pippin . . ." Esme whispered. Merry helped her to a nearby chair. Her hand shook a bit as she grasped the edge of the table to steady herself. She looked up at her son.  Her face had paled, her eyes were filling with tears. "I need to go at once, Paladin and Lanti will need me." Then her hand came up to her mouth as she gasped. "Your party Merry! What can we do about your party? There is no time to tell everyone not to come."

"You can send out messages before you leave. If they don't reach folks on time they can just stay here at the Hall if they wish." Merry bent over to look his Mother in the eye. "I have to go now, right away. I can't wait about for you and whoever else to get ready to go."

Esmeralda hugged her son tightly. "Of course. I wouldn't expect anything else Merry." She said into his ear. She gave him a squeeze then let him go. "You are not leaving without having a bite to eat while I pack some food for you to take with you."

"Alright," Merry said as he headed for the door. "But please be quick with it, Mum. I'm going to the stables to get a fresh pony, have it all ready for when I'm done," he said as he went out the door.

Esme got right to work but her mind was not at all on what she was doing, it was on her brother Paladin. What was this doing to her brother? He loved his daughters dearly but Pippin was special. His heir, yes, but more than that. Paladin was Pippin's hero, the boy would go on and on about how wonderful his Father is, and Pippin was Paladin's joy. The brightness and merriment of his son had lightened her brother's personality. Paladin had always been a bit serious for a Took, having Pippin about had helped him to not be so close. Paladin never did well whenever Pippin fell ill. He was always so awkward when any of the family had been ill when they were growing up. Whatever would he do if, perish the thought, they lost Pippin, if that light in his life was extinguished? Esmeralda had no answer to this but she dreaded the possibilities. She looked off into space a few moments then lifted her chin and pulled back her shoulders. No, she wouldn't allow herself to keep thinking these thoughts. Pippin had grown into a strong young hobbit, he would be alright. Yes, that was how it would go. He'd probably be on the mend by the time Merry arrived, up and about shortly thereafter when she got to Great Smials. Yes. It would be that way she told herself, then she sighed, at least she fervently hoped it would.

Merry came back out of breath and smelling somewhat of the stable. A bowl of hot porridge sat on the table with the cream pitcher beside it. It was just as well that it had sat there a short bit as Merry made no effort to cool it, putting large spoonfuls into his mouth, nearly swallowing them whole. His Mother finished up packing the lunch of bread, cheese and cold ham. Two freshly filled water bottles also stood ready for Merry to take.

"You must remember to tell your Aunt and Uncle that we will be there as soon as we possibly can. Your Father and I will both come, Merry, I feel that will be best." Esmeralda said as she put the last water bottle into the pack then tied the strings that closed it.

Merry stood and she helped him with putting on the pack. He turned once more holding her in a strong hug.

"I'm sorry about the party, Mum. I know you've worked so hard on it, but you know I have to go." His voice was shaky.

"You know I feel this as much as you do, Merry. I have to go to my brother as much as you to your cousin." She gave him a squeeze then pushed him away from her. "Go on now, ride as fast as you can. Tell them, tell my brother and sister, that we will be there soon. Now go!"

Merry kissed his Mum on her forehead then ran out the door. In mere seconds he mounted the pony and was off at a full gallop.

He paced the pony as best he could but he just could not slow down. The pony was lathered and stumbling as he reached the first Messenger Service post. He received a reprimand from the stable hand about mistreating the ponies. And what was he doing wanting one of their ponies anyway? He was no Messenger Rider! Merry hastily explained the situation. The older hobbit apologized, immediately saddling up a fresh pony for Merry to use. No hobbit of the Shire would have denied Merry help on such an errand.

Merry rode and rode, stopping only at the posts to change mounts. He did drink all of one of the water bottles his Mother had sent, but he ate very little. He simply wasn't hungry. All of him was focused on getting to Pippin. He felt badly for the poor ponies he was riding. He did manage to not ride the others as hard as he had the first, but still they were sweaty and tired when they got to each post. He wanted to be at Great Smials before nightfall.

V

Nothing seemed to be going right. Through the night and into the next day Eglantine tried every remedy she could remember or find in her books to bring down Pippin's fever but nothing was working very well. He remained hot. She and Pearl alternated, each working for two hours then resting for two hours. But even if Lanti did sleep, it was troubled and unrestful. Finally around tea time Eglantine and Pearl decided that they were going to have to try a cold bath. It was risky, it was a much greater shock to a patient than the cold compresses, but the water soaked towels were not affecting Pippin's fever as well this time.

To everyone's surprise, Paladin said he and Ordegar, Pearl's husband, would handle the bath. "Pippin is in his tweens. It . . . it . . ." Paladin stammered, "well, it wouldn't be proper for his Mother and sister to see him naked. Especially his sister," he said with a sharp, authoritative nod of his head. "It's something he'd want his Father to do, whether you're a healer or not Lanti." It was a poor excuse, Paladin knew it, but it was all he could think of in the few moments he had to speak up. He felt this would be something he could do for his son since he could not bear to be in the lad’s sick-room.

So Pippin's Father and Brother-in-law took over the task of immersing him in the cold water. Paladin carried his son from his bedroom into the bathroom then Ordegar shut the door behind them. Eglantine waited impatiently with the rest of the family outside in the tunnel. This was not where she was accustomed to being and she found the wait nearly unbearable. She paced, acting like her husband had earlier in Pippin’s sickroom, unable to sit still. It seemed forever. She wanted so badly to know what was happening on the other side of the door, but she respected Paladin's request, she remained in the tunnel.

She nearly leapt at Ordegar when he opened the door. Pippin lay in his Father's arms. He was wrapped in a large towel his head resting on Paladin's shoulder.

"Give us a few moments then you can come in." Paladin said as he walked by her heading towards Pippin's room.

When she went in Pippin was laid out on the bed in a fresh night shirt that buttoned well down the front. Paladin was starting to cover him with a sheet and blanket.

"No!" Eglantine's voice was sharp with concern. "No blanket, not even the sheet. The nightshirt can stay for now, but I’m not even sure that he needs that. We need to keep him cool. The only warm thing he needs is the poultice."

Paladin stopped in mid-motion. "But he's so very cold, Dear. His lips and finger nails are still blue. He's still shivering. Surely he needs . . ."

"Surely he needs to stay cool, Paladin. We need to clear his lungs. We have to keep a poultice on his chest without risking his fever returning a third time."

A look of deep concern came to Paladin's face. His wife came to his side and took hold of his hand.

"I know it seems harsh," she said in a soft voice. "But he'll warm up enough from the poultice as it is. He really won't need the extra warmth of a blanket and sheet."

With his free hand her husband pulled her into a hug and she hugged him in return. Paladin's eyes, however, were fixed on Pippin. "I thought I had killed him," he whispered. "He struggled at first, then he went rigid, then limp. I couldn't tell if he was breathing. We had to lift him out of the water a bit so I could listen for his heartbeat. Then his lips and finger nails went blue, his skin was so pale. And the shivering, I could take it no longer, Lanti. I hope we did what is needed." Paladin turned his head to look deep into his wife's eyes. "I don't know how you stand it. I could never be a healer. It was all I could bear."

Eglantine smiled at him. "And I couldn't bear being out in that tunnel waiting." She laid her head on his shoulder. "I couldn't stand not knowing what was happening. I think we each need to stay with what we're accustomed to, Dear." They stood holding each other for a few moments.

Pearl came in with the poultice in her hands. She stopped when she saw her parents embracing. Looking over at her own husband, she smiled. "Mum and Da, why don't the two of you go have some tea. Ordegar can help me get things started and I can handle watching Pippin after that. I know what to do and what to be looking for, Mother. You should have some time together."

" An excellent idea, Pearl!" Paladin said then kissed Eglantine's forehead. "Come with me, Dear. It's about time you had a bite to eat." There was no argument from his wife as he led her out the door.

Lanti's comforting break in her good husband's company did not last long. Toward the end of an hour's time the poultice began to have its effect. Pippin had begun to cough and his Mother was needed to help care for him. For half an hour Pippin shook with deep coughs, this time having the desired effect of clearing some of the congestion from his lungs. When he at last lay still again Eglantine decided to take the poultice off for a while to let his body rest. She covered Pippin with the sheet and light blanket up to his waist, instructed Pearl to begin massaging his chest with the warm herbal oil and went across the tunnel to rest awhile.

Merry had not arrived at Great Smials as early as he had hoped. It was dark and the lights inside the huge smial shone through it's many round windows. As he approached Merry realized that he really didn't feel up to dealing with the whole Took household, he wanted only to see Pippin. He had been thinking only of getting there, not so much about what would happen when he actually arrived. He quietly approached the stable. After checking to make sure no other hobbits were around, he took the saddle and bridle off the pony, bedded him down in a stall then he made his way to Pippin's bedroom window. He stayed to one side, out of the light that shone out, he didn't want to be seen lurking outside. He could see Pippin. Pearl was sitting at his bedside. His heart twisted inside him. Pippin looked terrible, pale and not moving. Just then Pearl laid her head on Pippin's chest. She stayed that way a few moments, when she sat up Merry could tell she was crying. Crying. Merry felt panic rising inside him. She had listened for his heartbeat, now she was crying. He worked the latch and was in the room in one quick movement. In seconds he was off Pippin's desk and over to the bed.

"Is he . . ." Merry began.

"Merry!" Pearl's startled eyes met his. Her face was wet with tears. Merry was just about to start again when he heard what he had missed before, the sounds of Pippin's labored breathing.

"He's breathing!" Merry exclaimed to Pearl. "He's breathing! He's not . . ." He couldn't bring himself to say it. A confused look came to his face. "Then why are you crying Pearl?"

"I'm tired and frustrated, Merry. We were hoping it would be a longer time before the fluid built up in his lungs again. More time for him to rest." Pearl looked sadly at her brother while starting to dry her eyes. "It's only been a short while and, well, you can hear the trouble he's having. I was just going to tell Mum we need to get the poultices ready again." She looked up at Merry. "How did you get in here? I didn't hear the door."

"I . . ." He paused, unsure of revealing his and Pippin's secret latch. "I came in through the window. I've ridden all last night and through the day today to get here as soon as I could. I didn't want to have to work my way through every Took in Great Smials before I got to see Pippin." He looked sheepish, Pearl smiled at him.

"I have to get Mum." She stood, started towards the door then stopped. She turned around. "I know Pippin hit you." She gave Merry a concerned 'motherly' look. "He didn't get your letter, I did. As soon as we get this congestion cleared again, I need to know what happened." Before Merry could answer, she was out the door and gone.

Merry let his breath out slowly. Pearl knew. He hadn't thought about anyone else finding out. He looked down at Pippin. What did it matter if Pearl knew about it? He knelt down by the bed. With his left hand he gently touched Pippin's scarf as tears came to his eyes.

"You've got to get better, Pip," Merry said while he rubbed the scarf between his fingers. "We're a great team, remember? A great team, just like you said. You've got to get better!"

He stayed there a moment looking at his cousin then got to his feet just as Pearl and his Aunt Eglantine came in. Pimpernel was close behind with a bucket of hot water and a few towels draped over her shoulder. The smell of the mustard/onion poultice turned Merry’s stomach. He fought off the feeling, he couldn't get sick, he needed to help with Pippin. He watched as his Aunt and Pearl quickly secured the poultice to Pippin's chest then applied the first hot towel. Only then did his Aunt take the time to look at him.

"Merry, Pearl told me you were here! I'm so glad." She came around the bed to give him a firm hug. "I've been hoping you would come, in spite of your party." She let him go, returning her attention to Pippin. She checked the temperature of the towel. "This needs replacing already Pearl. It's cold in here."

Merry looked toward the window, he had left it open in his haste to get to Pippin's side. "I'll get that!" he said, quickly going to the window, shutting and latching it. "It must have blown open, it's windy out tonight."

His Aunt just nodded before turning back to her work. Time passed. Merry helped with fetching the hot water and wringing out towels. Suddenly Pippin began to cough. Hard racking coughs that to Merry sounded horrible. Between the smell of the poultice and the terrible sounds, Merry started to feel sick again. It was Pearl who noticed that he looked nearly as pale as Pippin did. She went to him, took him by the arm and started leading him to the door.

"No Pearl!" He meant to shout but it came out weakly. Pearl had him out the door and into the room across the tunnel before he knew it. Paladin looked up to see Pearl rushing Merry to the bed in the room, nearly shoving him onto it.

"Lay still Meriadoc and don't you try to get up!" She ordered as she undid the clasp on his cloak to move it off his chest and shoulders. He hadn't bothered to take it off earlier. She unbuttoned his jacket. "Get your arms out of those sleeves." He didn't dare argue. Soon Merry’s jacket and cloak were on the floor. Pearl felt his face with the back of her hand then she sighed, relaxing a bit.

"I thought you might be fevered, I know at least that you're feeling faint and queasy." She had Merry sit up, put an extra pillow behind him, plumped the two pillows a bit, then gently pushed him back. "We didn't need you fainting in there Merry. Da, could you go get Merry something to eat and drink, please. I have the feeling he hasn't had much of either today."

"I'll be happy to. It is good to see you here, Nephew. I'll be back shortly." Paladin came over, patted Merry on the shoulder, then left.

Pearl brought a chair over to sit down next to Merry. He looked at her with a hurt expression in his dark blue eyes.

"I don't want to be here Pearl, I want to be with Pippin!" He sounded like a whiney little boy, instead of a hobbit who would soon turn thirty-three. Pearl grinned. She halfway expected him to pout.

"And do what?" she asked him in a teasing voice. "Get sick to your stomach? Faint?"

Merry hung his head. "I need to be with him, Pearl, I just need to."

Pearl took his hand holding it between both of hers. "I know Merry, it's why you rode so hard to get here, but you'll be no help like this. Eat something, and while you eat you can tell me what happened. Then I want you to rest for three hours." Merry started to protest but she put her fingers to his lips. "No, no arguments. Three hours is much less than you need but it should help for a while. You are obviously tired as well as hungry. Later, maybe, we can put a cot for you in Pippin's room."

The mention of a cot in Pippin's room seemed to ease his mind a bit. Paladin came in carrying a tray with soup, bread and cheese, along with a mug of hot camomile tea. He placed the tray on Merry's lap, affectionately tousled Merry's hair, then left the two cousins alone.

Pearl watched in silence for a while as Merry ate. Then she cleared her throat. "What happened, Merry?"

He stopped with the spoon halfway to his mouth, then slowly set it back down in the bowl. "I was having a terrible time. I was worried about my Dad dying. I was scared of coming of age and having to be Master of Buckland. I thought I would have to quit running around with Pippin and I'd be all alone." He looked at Pearl with weary eyes. "I kept it all inside when I should have talked to my Dad and Pippin about it. I got more and more frightened, more and more angry. Then, we were talking and Pip mentioned my party. He sounded all happy and . . ." he looked down and his head drooped, "and it all just came out of me at once. All the anger, fear and frustration. I was saying horribly mean things to him in this horrible cold, nasty voice. He tried to walk away but I pulled him back and just kept insulting him." Merry looked once again into Pearl's eyes. He had tears running down his face. "He hit me in the stomach and knocked the breath out of me. Then he walked away without saying a word." He turned his head away, no longer able to look at Pearl. "I was cruel to him. I deserved what I got."

"Pippin only blamed himself, not you." Pearl said softly. "He tried to write to you but ended up throwing all of his attempts on the floor. He felt so badly about hitting you. He was so sick. When I first found him in his room, he was acting so strangely I thought he had gone mad." She reached over to rub Merry's shoulder. "All you both want is the other's forgiveness. It will work out Merry, you'll get it all settled and you two will be close again, like nothing ever happened."

"I hope so, Pearl," Merry said, his voice starting to sound sleepy. Pearl stood up and took the tray from his lap. She helped him lay down. He was asleep before she had finished tucking the covers under his chin.

VI

The morning appeared to be weeping for Pippin and his family. The sky was a heavy leaden grey, the rain a thick steady curtain that stole the colors from the world. Through the night Pippin's bouts of coughing had continued. His Mother was exhausted. She hadn't left Pippin's side all through the weary night, fearing that something would go wrong and that she wouldn't be there to help. Pearl had also stayed. She had let her Mother sit by Pippin's side, holding his hand in one of hers while her other hand rested on his cheek or ran over and over through his hair. Pearl had willingly done everything to maintain the poultices and actually care for Pippin. She had sensed that both her Mother and her Brother needed the caresses, the soft words and hummed lullabies.

Merry was upset when he awoke. The dull gray light in the small room told him it was morning which meant that Pearl had let him sleep much longer than the three hours she had promised. His Uncle Paladin was asleep in a big easy chair so Merry was quiet as he left to return to Pippin's room. He had intended to let Pearl have a piece of his mind over letting him sleep so long but his frustration drained away when he opened Pippin's bedroom door. Pearl sat in the over-stuffed chair, which had been pulled up to the far side of the bed. She was sound asleep. At the near side of the bed his Aunt Eglantine sat slouched over also asleep, her head on the pillow next to Pippin's. Merry looked lovingly at Pippin, his Aunt Eglantine and Pearl. He bent down to kiss his Aunt's cheek. His Aunt was like a second Mother to him, he had spent so much time in her home, and he cared for her deeply. He got his Uncle and Pearl's husband. They carried their wives to their own rooms and put them to bed. Merry alone now watched over Pippin.

Merry sat down in the chair where his Aunt had been sitting. He took Pippin's hand between his own as he looked anxiously at his cousin's face. The hand he held felt cold, the face he looked upon was drawn and colorless. Pippin was always sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks. Pippin didn't look like this. Merry swallowed hard at the lump in his throat. He hated it when his dear younger cousin became so ill. Carefully moving Pippin's scarf over to one side, he laid his ear to Pippin's chest. He heard the soft thudding of Pippin's heart. Merry closed his eyes and sighed, now he would just have to . . . have to what? What was there that he could do? He wiped his shirt sleeve across his eyes.

"Well Pippin," he said to the still face on the pillow, "what do I do now? I'm no healer. And you're so sick Pip. I mean, you've been sick before, so have I. It just seems worse this time. I guess because of what happened." Merry started to rub Pippin's cold hand, then he thought about the warm herbal oil he had noticed last night on the hearth while he had been fetching the hot water. He gently let go of Pippin's hand before going over to the fire place where the small pot of oil sat on the hearth near the fire. He tested it with his finger. It seemed a good temperature to him so he took the pot and set it on the bedside table. Merry moved the ends of Pippin's scarf off of his chest bunching them up on the bed just above his shoulders. He unbuttoned Pippin's night shirt, pulled it open, then he poured a bit of the oil into his palm. Hesitantly at first then smoother and more steadily he massaged the warm oil into his cousin's pale cool skin.

"I know this feels good Pip, you can't tell me it doesn't. My Mum has done this for me when I've had colds so I know how good it feels." He paused to get some more oil. "I'm sure your chest aches." Merry sniffed, his eyes had started to tear up again and his nose to run a bit. "It's all I know how to do Pip, other than just sit here talking to you. It's all I can do, so you'll just have to let me do it." Merry massaged Pippin's chest and sides until his hands grew tired. Then he overlapped the sides of the night shirt, pulled down the ends of the scarf and pulled up the covers, all the while talking about anything that came into his head.

An hour later Pervinca brought Merry some tea. He took a few sips then an idea occurred to him. There was something else he could do. Merry reached around Pippin's shoulders to lift him up a bit. He put a small bit of the tea into the spoon. He brought the spoon to his cousin’s slightly opened lips and dribbled the tea into Pippin's mouth. Pippin swallowed the tea. Merry gave him a few more sips of the tea then laid Pippin's head back down on the pillow. When Pervinca returned for the mug, Merry asked her for some broth, if they had any. In a while she returned with a bowl of rich chicken broth. Merry again lifted Pippin up a bit to feed him some of the broth. Not much, a few spoonfuls at a time, ever so slowly until half the broth was gone. Merry got up and put the bowl of broth on the hearth to keep it warm. Pervinca had also brought fresh rubbing oil, placing it on the hearth. Merry picked up the oil. It was time for Pippin to have another massage.

Eglantine woke up with a start. Where was she? Where was Pippin? Why wasn't she with him? She sat up quickly. It was then she recognized her own room.

"Are you alright, Dear?" Paladin had hurried to the bedside when his wife sat up so quickly.

"I didn't realize where I was at first." She was starting to panic. "Why aren't I with Pippin? I should be with him Paladin, he needs . . ." She grabbed hold of his hand with a fierce strength. "He does still need me, Paladin, he's not . . . not dead, is he? Please tell me he still needs me." Her voice was pleading, her eyes filled with fear.

"He lives still Lanti, he still needs you." She grabbed her husband, burying her face in his chest. For a few moments she stayed sobbing against him, relief releasing her-pent up emotions. Then she took a deep breath as she looked up at him.

"Pearl is with him then, that's good. She's become a competent healer."

"No, Pearl fell asleep as well."

Eglantine again looked panicked. "Then who is with Pippin? He shouldn't be alone, he needs someone there beside him! My mother always said that the sick need the presence of someone with them. He . . ."

"Merry is with him." Paladin interrupted in a calm tone. "Merry is talking to him. Holding his hand. Merry's even been massaging Pippin's chest with the oil you made." He pulled his wife closer while gently rubbing her head. "We wouldn't leave Peregrin alone Lanti, we know better than that. I've checked in on them and Merry is taking good care of Pippin." He gently tilted her head back so their eyes met. He smiled a gentle smile. "Your hair is a mess and you've been in that same dress I think since Pippin fell ill. Why don't you have a bath and freshen up a bit, Dear? You'll feel better I'm sure."

"I think you're right Paladin." She leaned against him again as she squeezed him, then she pulled away. "If you really think that Merry is doing alright?"

"Yes, I think he is. While you're getting freshened up, I'll have Ordegar wake Pearl and suggest that she have a bath as well. Then you'll both be feeling better. Go on now, get your bath." He tousled her hair lovingly then left to tell Ordegar the plan while Lanti prepared for her bath.

When she had finished her bath, Eglantine returned to her room to get dressed and fix her hair. While she sat at her dressing table, her glance fell upon her jewelry box. Her hands slowly came down from brushing her hair and her lips parted slightly as she stared at the box. With trance-like movements she reached over and sprung the catch that released a hidden compartment. She removed one of the pieces of paper that lay in the velvet-lined drawer. Carefully she unfolded the fragile paper and read its contents, her lips softly forming the words as she read. She smiled and held the paper to her heart. She had forgotten, it had been nearly twenty-five years ago now. Did he remember writing it? She hurriedly finished with her hair and almost ran to Pippin's room.

Eglantine forced herself to enter Pippin's room calmly. "How is he doing Merry?" she said softly.

Merry jumped a bit, he hadn't heard the door as he had been talking to Pippin. "He's no worse Auntie, and maybe a bit better. I think he's not as pale at least." Merry seemed suddenly embarrassed. "I've been talking to him and massaging his chest with the oil." He nodded toward the fireplace where the pot of oil sat. "I’m no healer, not like you or Pearl. I hope that was alright for me to do."

"Yes Merry, those are just the right things to be doing." Eglantine put her arm around Merry's shoulders hugging him firmly. "We never know what someone can hear when they seem to be totally unconscious. My Mother taught me to talk to patients as much as possible, and to touch them, so they know they're not alone. Thank you for taking such good care of Pippin for me." She gave his shoulder another squeeze before walking around to the other side of the bed to sit down in the over-stuffed chair.

"I also fed Pippin several times, some tea and chicken broth." Merry said, still sounding unsure of himself. "Was that alright too? I mean, I know feeding him is alright, but is it something you don’t mind that I did?"

"Yes, as long as you were careful. He didn't choke at all did he?"

"No, I was careful. I lifted him up a little, then dribbled it slowly into his mouth. He didn't choke at all."

"Then it was fine, Merry." She smiled at Merry to reassure him, then she leaned forward in the chair. "Merry, do you remember when you first met Pippin?"

The question caught Merry off guard. He stammered a bit with his answer. "You, you . . . you mean very first met him? When he was a baby, you mean?"

Eglantine chuckled a little bit at Merry's response. "Yes, I mean the very first time, when he was only a few weeks old. Do you remember?"

"Yes," Merry said looking down at his ill cousin. "It seems strange to think of him as a baby, but yes I remember that day." He looked across the bed at his Aunt. "Why do you ask?"

"Tell me what you remember."

"Well, I wasn't even supposed to be there because you weren't feeling well and the baby had come too early. I hid with the luggage in the carriage. By the time I was found out it was too late to take me back home." His mischievous grin stole over his face, his indigo eyes sparkled. "I've always been naughty, haven't I?" Eglantine smiled and nodded. Merry continued. "When we got to your home in Whitwell, I wasn't supposed to go into your room, but I did that too. I just really wanted to see my new cousin. You and Uncle Paladin are my favorites and, no offense, it wasn't another girl cousin but a boy this time. So I was really good and really quiet. I didn't want to get sent out of the room."

"You did very well, Merry." His Aunt's voice was soft with memories. "You were quite the little gentlehobbit. I could hardly believe it was you." Merry looked embarrassed but was smiling. "What else?" Eglantine asked.

Merry stared off into the shadows in the corner of the room. "I couldn't quit staring at the baby." He almost sounded like the eight-year-old boy he had been at the time as the memories filled his mind. "I'd seen lots of babies and didn't really much care for them, but this one was different somehow. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to hold him, although I usually hated holding babies." Merry's eyes came back to the present but the memories were alive in his mind. "Do you remember Aunt Eglantine? I wanted to hold him. Mum and Dad didn't want me too but you said I could. I sat in a chair by your bed and held him for the longest time. Do you remember?"

"Yes. I remember."

"I held him until we left the room for you to nurse him before getting some rest. Even then, I really didn't want to give him back to you." Merry looked at Pippin while chuckling softly. "I wanted to keep him, to take him home with me. Like he was a puppy or something."

They sat quietly for a few minutes each one picturing in their mind the scene as they remembered it.

"Do you remember why you didn't want to let Pippin go, Merry?"

Merry blushed. He kept looking at Pippin to avoid his Aunt's eyes. "Yes," he said softly.

"Merry." Eglantine said his name quietly. When he looked up, he saw that she was holding out to him an old looking, folded up piece of paper. "Take it and open it," she said.

Merry knew what it was. He hadn't thought that his Aunt had kept it. He unfolded it carefully and looked at his childhood handwriting.

                                Aunt Eglantyne,

                                Meriadoc Brandybuck

                                         Pippin.

                                Nephew Merry,

                                Eglantine Took

Merry's mouth fell open in surprise. He had never seen the part his Aunt had appended to his childish statement. He looked over at her with his mouth still hanging open. She smiled at him.

"I never told you about that did I?" she said.

"No, you never spoke to me about the note at all. I always knew though." He looked back at the paper in his hand. "I knew that it was alright with you."

His Aunt nodded. "I somehow knew it as soon as you looked at Pippin in my room that day. I could tell that there was something special happening between you and my new little son." Eglantine reached across Pippin to touch Merry's hand. "I knew you two would be best friends, brothers of the heart." They looked at each other then Lanti looked down at Pippin. "In a way you really are brothers, and your Mother and I each have two sons." She continued to look at Pippin as she started to twist one of his golden brown curls around one of her fingers. "I did break my promise though, I told two people. I told Pearl and I told your Mother." She looked back up at Merry. "I hope you aren't upset with me."

"No." Merry grinned. "I would have been back then," he gestured with the note, "but not now. I know now that they wouldn't think it was stupid." His grin broadened into a smile. "I should have adopted Pearl as well, she's much more an older sister than a cousin to me."

Just then one of the servants knocked on the door. Sticking her head in, she announced that Master Saradoc and Mistress Esmeralda had arrived.

"Why don't you go and welcome your parents, Merry," Eglantine said, "but first, stop across the tunnel to let your Uncle Paladin know his sister is here if he doesn't already know about it. I would like some time alone with Pippin."

"Alright, Aunt Eglantine, but I won't be gone too long." He said as he tucked the old note into his pocket.

"I know Merry, even a quarter hour would be nice."

"I can handle that, Auntie." Merry grinned as he came around the bed to kiss her on the forehead before leaving. "Shall I bring my Mum then?"

"Yes, Merry, that would be just fine, thank you."

Merry took a long look at Pippin then went out the door, closing it quietly behind him.

For a few moments Eglantine just stared at her son. She had been so taken back to his babyhood while talking with Merry that this nearly grown hobbit in his tweens whose hair she was playing with almost seemed a stranger to her. Her hand moved to touch his cheek, just as she had touched his tiny face when he had been a baby.

He moved.

Pippin turned his head a bit, snuggling his face into the palm of his Mother's hand and she wept for joy.

"Pippin," she said his name as she moved her fingers to caress his cheek. He continued to press against her hand as a sigh escaped his lips.

"Feels so good." He softly muttered.

"Pippin!" Exclaimed his Mum, hardly able to believe she had heard him speak. With his eyes still closed, he continued.

"Always feels good. I feel safe." A smile came to his lips. "Feel loved." Slowly blinking, Pippin opened his eyes while slowly bringing his hand up to cover his Mum's hand and press it more firmly to his face. "Hullo Mum." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Hello Pippin." She answered sniffing and wiping at her tears with her free hand.

Pippin's smile faded, lines formed between his eyebrows. "Why are you crying Mum?" His voice was still soft but full of concern.

"Happy tears, Pippin, they're happy tears." She smiled broadly. "You're awake, you're talking." She sniffed again.

He still held her hand to his cheek. "I'm sorry. I've worried you. I'm sorry," he said. He closed his eyes while snuggling against his Mom's comforting hand.

"It's not your fault you've been sick Pippin."

"Sick?" The lines deepened between his eyes. Painful memories filled his mind. "No, not sick. Horrible. I'm horrible." His face twisted in pain.

Eglantine's breath caught in her throat. Whatever was Pippin talking about? Suddenly his eyes flew open in a wide confused stare.

"Merry, I heard him. I heard his voice!" Pippin's breaths were sharp and shallow. "I hurt him. I . . . I hurt him, Mum." He started coughing and gasping. He clung to his Mother's hand. "Why would he ever want . . . to see, me?" Pippin's head was aching and he was getting dizzy. He looked anxiously into his Mother's eyes. "Is he really here?"

The beseeching look in her son's eyes caused Lanti's heart to tighten. "He is here, Pippin. His parents just arrived and I sent him to meet them, but he is here at Great Smials. He rode all night and day to get here to be with you. Just to be with you." She put her other hand to his chest. "You have to calm down Pippin."

"He's here?" The words were the merest of whispers. His hand that held hers to his cheek fell limply away. Pippin had exhausted himself and fainted.

VII

Eglantine sat for a moment in stunned silence then she checked Pippin's breathing and listened to his heartbeat. All seemed well. She had feared that his outburst would hurt him somehow but gradually his breathing grew quieter and more rhythmic.

Merry and his Mother came into the room quietly. Esmeralda went straight to Eglantine, they hugged one-another tightly.

"We got here as fast as we could, Lanti," Esme said. "How are you doing? How is Pippin?"

Eglantine sat back down, taking Pippin's hand in hers. "I’m perplexed. He woke up just a bit ago." Merry thought her voice should sound happy but it wasn't. "He seemed to be doing well until I mentioned he was ill." She looked at Merry. "Pippin said he wasn't sick, he said he was horrible and that he had hurt you. He seemed to think you wouldn't want to see him Merry. I told him you had ridden hard just to be here, just to be with him." She looked down at Pippin again. "He was so worked up. It was too much too quickly, he fainted."

There was silence in the room. For a few minutes no one spoke.

"I need to be with him." Merry sounded angry. "I should have been here when he woke up. It needed to be me he spoke with." Esme and Lanti stared at Merry, surprised at his tone of voice. "Get out! I want both of you out. I want everyone out." Then Merry looked at their shocked faces. He seemed to collapse into himself. He sat heavily into the chair by the bed with his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Pearl can explain it all to you. I'm tired, frightened and I just need to be with Pippin." He looked back and forth between them. "Please, let me stay with him. Please."

"Yes, I think that would be best," his Aunt said after a long pause. "I'm sorry I sent you away before. We'll go and talk to Pearl. Your Uncle and Father will be in the room across the tunnel, Merry. If anything happens or you need help, go to them. I'll give instructions that you aren't to be bothered." She stood and took her sister-in-law by the arm. "Come along Esmeralda, we need to sit down with Pearl and have a talk."

Merry sat as close to the bed as he could. He gently took Pippin in his arms hugging him tight to his chest. Without realizing it he started to slowly rock back and forth as one would do when holding a child that needs comforting.

"Pippin, you'll not wake up without me here." He whispered into his cousin's ear. "That won't happen again. You'll know I'm not angry with you. We'll talk this all out. Everything," his breath caught in his throat, "everything will be fine Pip." Tears crept over his eyelids to trickle down his cheeks. "Just wake up Pip, so we can make things right again. Just wake up."

Merry didn't know how long he sat there rocking Pippin. He felt the note he had written long ago crinkling in his pocket. Like when he wrote it, he was content to just sit holding his "brother". Merry was nearly falling asleep and his hold on Pippin had loosened when he became aware that Pippin was moving. He was snuggling in closer, returning Merry's hug.

"Pippin. Are you waking up Pippin?" He started to lay Pippin back down but Pippin's grip on him tightened.

"No. Don't let go." The words were so hushed that Merry almost didn't hear them. "I'll be lost. I won't be able to find you if you let go." Pippin sounded small and frightened.

"I won't let go then, Pip."

"I'm scared Merry. It's so dark and noisy."

Merry understood. There had been a bad thunderstorm one time when Pippin had been visiting at Brandy Hall. He had only been about seven years old. Pippin had climbed into bed with Merry, shaking with terror. Pippin had to be dreaming about that night. Still holding Pippin firmly, Merry laid him down on his side. Then Merry laid down on top of the covers, letting Pippin curl up close beside him, just like he had on that long ago stormy night. "I'm here Pippin, I won't leave you alone." Pippin pushed his head into Merry's shoulder as Merry slowly fell asleep.

Pippin felt comfortable. He recognized the wonderful feeling of being in his warm cozy bed and being not quite awake. He had surely had some strange dreams he thought as bits and pieces of sounds and images floated by in his mind. His Mother's voice and Pearl's. Himself sitting at his desk with papers on the floor. In front of his fireplace burning something other than wood. Pippin moaned a little, shifting positions to try to make the thoughts change. He remembered his chest hurting and the sound of concern in the voices around him. Maybe he had been sick. He could smell the odd mix of smells from a mustard and onion poultice mixing with the smell of rosemary, thyme and clary in rubbing oil. Yes, he must have been ill. Something had been wrong. He tried to find a comfortable position but he bumped into something. A look of confusion flitted across his face followed by a faint smile. "That's right," he thought, "there was a bad storm and I was frightened and I came to Merry to feel safe." He cuddled up to Merry's warm body sighing contentedly. His mind started to drift away but then it came to a sudden halt. "Wait!" His thought said. "That was a long time ago!"

Pippin opened one eye, the other being buried in the pillow, and looked squarely at Merry's chest. Pippin pulled away a bit. He turned his head and opened his other eye. The view didn't change. It was Merry for certain, Pippin recognized the waistcoat. Waistcoat? He glanced down. Where as he was in his nightshirt and under the covers, Merry was fully dressed and stretched out on top of the covers. This was all very odd. Pippin tipped his head back a bit to look at Merry's face. Merry's head was at a strange angle from having slipped off the edge of the pillow. He was sound asleep with his mouth slightly open, snoring softly. What was Merry doing lying down with him? "I'm not a frightened little hobbit anymore," thought Pippin. "I'm twenty-five and Merry is . . ." He jerked rather weakly away from his sleeping cousin. His eyes grew large as all the memories of their argument came washing over him. His sudden movement startled Merry.

"Pippin!" Merry exclaimed, a sleepy smile on his face. "Pippin you're awake!" But Pippin backed a little further away, slowly easing himself up to rest heavily on his elbow with his head drooping over onto his shoulder.

"What are you doing here, Merry?" Pippin asked, his voice heavy with sadness. "You're angry with me," he paused a moment, suddenly confused by the thoughts rushing through his head, "or you should be after what I did to you. I heard your voice awhile ago, but I thought it was a dream, an old memory. Why are you here?"

"I came because my best friend has been terribly sick." Merry moved so that his head was raised and resting in his hand. "I was afraid that I was part of why my best friend was so ill, because I had been cruel and stupid and I'd hurt him."

Pippin's right hand had moved to touch the scarf around his neck. It was an unconscious habit he had whenever he was troubled. Pippin looked down at his fingers as they wound in and out among the fringe.

"A best friend wouldn't have hit you," he quietly said, keeping his eyes lowered.

"It was the only way you could have stopped me Pip." Pippin raised his head looking at Merry in surprise. "I couldn't stop Pippin," Merry continued. "I wanted to. I hated what I was saying, but it wouldn't stop." Merry reached over and took Pippin's chin in a firm grip, making sure that Pippin was looking at him. "I would have hit you." Merry said slowly and firmly to make sure the meaning of the words came through.

Pippin's eyes widened. "What?!"

"I realized it while I was on the ground trying to catch my breath." At this Pippin tried to look away but Merry kept hold of his chin. "My hands were in fists because I had been ready to hit you, and Pippin," Merry's grip tightened until it almost hurt, "I would have kept on hitting you. I was too angry, too scared about what I thought was going to happen to my life. It wasn't you I was angry at, it was my life. It was the whole "coming of age" thing. I was crazy. I was out of control and I would have hit you until I had hurt you badly." Merry let go of Pippin's chin and his head slipped from resting on his hand to land face first in the pillow. His shoulders shook as he sobbed.

Pippin let go of his scarf. He moved closer to Merry, put his arm around him and held him while he cried. This was not what Pippin had expected at all, that he would be comforting Merry. He worked his other arm under Merry's neck so that both arms were wrapped around his cousin. He was feeling tired anyway and it felt good to lie there. Pippin had known that Merry was hurting badly, and now, suddenly, he understood why.

"You thought your Dad was going to die and you would be Master of Buckland, didn't you Merry." Merry's head nodded. "You could have told me, Merry. I would have understood. I'd thought about it, how things might go for you. You know, when your Dad was sick. I'd thought about how it would be for me someday with my Dad becoming head of the family and Thain this past year. Although it's all a bit farther off for me." Pippin sighed. "I know it seems overwhelming."

They laid there together while Merry cried out all the hurt he had inside. Finally Merry pulled away from Pippin. He reached into his inside jacket pocket to get his handkerchief, to wipe his eyes and blow his nose. As he did his hand brushed against the old note. He pulled it out with the handkerchief. After cleaning himself up, he held the folded paper up for Pippin to see.

"Here Pippin," he said. "You need to read this."

Pippin took the paper but didn't open it. "Why? What is it?" He asked looking it over carefully. "It looks kind of old."

"Here, let me get you sat up a bit more, Pippin." Merry lifted his cousin’s shoulders up then tucked two pillows behind him, making him as comfortable as he could. "Open it and read it, Pip. Be careful, it's nearly as old as you are."

Pippin looked at Merry with a surprised look, but then turned his attention back to the piece of paper. He carefully unfolded the paper. "You wrote this!" He turned in surprise to look at Merry. "It's your writing, but a bit different."

"I was only eight years old at the time," Merry said with a grin.

Pippin's eyebrows went up a bit at that. He turned back to the letter. An amazed look came over his features as he read what Merry and his Mother had written. He swallowed hard a couple of times while wiping his sleeve across his eyes. The flood of emotions started him coughing. Merry gave him a handkerchief, held him and thumped him on the back. When the coughing fit passed, Merry leaned his cousin back against the pillows. He made Pippin take some sips of water and waited for his breathing to ease. After a few minutes, and some more water, Pippin looked again at the paper. He read it through again as though not quite sure he had read it right the first time. Pippin finally let his hand drop. He looked over at Merry who was once again propped up on his elbow. Merry had an odd smile on his face.

"Well?" Merry said. "Do you think I was a crazy child?" Merry's look changed as he saw the expression on Pippin's face. Pippin wore a look of wonder that brought the sparkle back into his eyes.

"You adopted me!" There was joy in his voice. "I was a baby that couldn't do anything yet, I couldn't even smile at you on purpose, but you adopted me!"

Merry wasn't prepared for this reaction. He had expected Pippin to laugh. "Well, yes, even though you were that little."

"Why? You've got other cousins closer to your age." Pippin looked at the letter then back at Merry. "I've always wondered why me." He took a few breaths before he went on. "Why you've spent so much time with me. I mean, you had awhile to wait before I was any fun to be with."

Merry took a few seconds to think then sat up before answering. "Actually Pippin, I think I just today figured out part of why. Only a part but an important part. You are the only cousin, the only hobbit other than our Dads, who would understand."

"Understand what?"

"Who we are Pippin. We're the eldest sons in the only families in the Shire who have titles that get passed down." Merry looked down at his hands for a moment before continuing. "Even then I liked to listen at closed doors." He and Pippin looked at each other, grinning knowingly. "Already there was talk of old Ferumbras III not being married, of his not leaving an heir. Folk telling my Mum that her brother would be The Took and Thain. She always shrugged it off, but I never forgot about it. I mean it's not like we will run the Shire and Buckland singlehandedly or any such thing. But, well, The Master of Buckland and The Thain of the Shire are looked up to." Merry gathered his thoughts for a second then went on. "That's not all of why I wanted you for my brother, but I think it's part at least. My parents didn't go on about it too much, but they did talk about my one day becoming The Master of Buckland. It made me feel different from my other cousins. I knew I was this special person even though I didn't understand what it was all about. Then your mother was expecting you." Merry looked up at Pippin. "And everyone was hoping you'd be a boy so your father would have an heir. 'He'll be The Took and Thain someday, mark my words, and he’ll be needin’ an heir,' different ones kept saying. I realized that if Aunt Eglantine and Uncle Paladin had a boy, he'd be special like me." Merry looked down again. "That and, well, I just liked you for some reason. You were just different somehow." He looked carefully at Pippin, at his slender build, small, sharp features, his fair complexion, his green Took eyes. "You've got a lot of Fallohide hobbit in you, as do I, and it’s said they were different. They say they were Elf-friends long ago. It’s also said that Tooks might have Fairy blood in them." Pippin started to laugh softly. "I know," Merry said, blushing, "the Tooks deny it. But you know, my Mum never has. She always says, ‘You just never know, Merry, my lad. You just never know.’ " Merry shrugged his shoulders. "You're just better than my other cousins, except Frodo." His words faded off and he sat staring at his hands.

Pippin broke the silence. "I'm not ready to get up, Merry," he said. "Would you get my lap desk for me?"

Merry thought it an odd request but he got off the bed, then came back with the small slope topped box. He helped Pippin sit up a little bit straighter then Merry placed the desk on Pippin's lap. Pippin opened it, took out the bottle of ink, a pen and the blotter then closed the box. The lid was on too tight, so Merry opened the ink then set the bottle in the well. Pippin picked up the old folded note from the bed. He opened it out as flat as he could on the writing surface. Merry sat slowly down in the chair by the bed and watched transfixed as Pippin dipped his pen and began to write. The quill trembled as Pippin wrote slowly with a shaky hand. When he finished, he blotted then blew on what he had written before handing the paper to Merry. At the bottom of the page Merry read:

                                Cousin Merry,

                                Peregrin Took

                                P.S. I will keep this a secret, if that is still what you wish.

"I love you too, Merry."

Merry heard Pippin's sleep heavy voice as he was still looking at what his "brother" had written. Pippin had said what Merry wanted to, but hadn't. When he looked up, Pippin was asleep.

Finis