“Merry?  Merry, please, answer me!  Please, Merry, come back to us!”

            The nothingness that surrounded him remained impenetrable despite his desperate fight to get to that voice.  Grey fog shrouded him, obscuring sight and hearing.  He felt as though he were in a vast bog, struggling to remain upright and make his way towards that call that beckoned him, like a flower trying to push through the snow to reach the sun.

            “Merry!  Please!”

            There was anguish in that voice, a tone that he had never heard before.  Who was calling him?  Why was the voice so sad?  Slowly the fog surrounding him seemed to deepen, until all that remained was black.  Where was he? 

“Merry!  Merry, come quick!”  The voice was insistent, pulling him from a strange dream of fog and pain and heartache he could not recall the reason for.  “Merry, wake up!  Hurry!”

            He groggily blinked his eyes open, trying to figure out why his room looked so strange.  He must have had too much ale last night, he thought blurrily as he pushed himself up on his elbows.  That would explain why all the furniture seemed overlarge, his bed feeling as he always remembered, but somehow not quite right.

            “Merry!”

            He started as his bedroom door was flung open, his cousin Pearl beckoning him impatiently as she said, “Hurry up, sleepy-head, you won’t believe this!”

            Doing his best to cover his bare chest with his blanket, he answered, thickly, “Pearl, at least let me wake up first!  What has you so bothered this morning?”

            “More like dawn, Meriadoc, and you won’t know until you come with me.  Now hurry up and get dressed!”  Pearl promptly closed the door, though he could hear her foot tapping outside.  “You have five minutes, Merry, before I come in and drag you out!”

            The thought of his older female cousin seeing him in a state of undress was enough to spur the young hobbit into motion, and he had just finished putting on his shirt when his door was opened again.

            “Come on!” Pearl crowed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him after her.  “You won’t believe this, Merry!  Mother and Father are going to be so thrilled!”

            Somewhat to his surprise, Merry was taken to the nursery, where his baby cousin was supposedly sleeping, so early in the morning.   However, upon entering the room, he was surprised to see little Pippin sitting up, quite awake, as though waiting for them.

            “Pearl, what –“ he began to ask, but was silenced as she placed a finger to her lips, eyes twinkling.

            “Pippin, darling,” she cooed to the baby, bending down to tickle her little brother.  “Look who I brought to see you.”

            For a moment their eyes met, and the world seemed to recede, replaced by an image of green-gold eyes, filled with tears and a fear that surpassed their youth.   Then the image faded, and he was staring at his baby cousin once more, who was smiling at him with a joy and innocence that sparkled in his eyes and erased any unease Merry may have felt.   

            “Mewy!” he cried, giggling and clapping his hands.

            Merry started, looking from the giggling baby to Pearl.  “Did he – did he just say my name?” he asked, incredulous.

            Pearl nodded, also giggling, bending down to pick up her brother and hug him. 

            “Isn’t it wonderful, Merry?  He’s managed to say “no“, and “eat”, but yours is the first name he has learned!”  She swung her brother around, earning a squeal, and then handed him over to his cousin.  “Watch him for a bit, will you?  I simply must tell Mother and Father, they’ll be so pleased!”

            He watched, gap-mouthed, as she left, absently cradling the wriggling Pippin to his chest.

            “Mewy,” Pippin murmured, sighing as he settled down against his cousin’s shoulder. 

            For the first time in his life, Meriadoc Brandybuck could not find any words to describe what he was feeling.  Fierce joy bubbled up within him, threatening to overwhelm him until it overflowed from his eyes in great tears of happiness. 

            “My Pippin,” he breathed, bending to kiss the soft curls that tickled his chin.  “My sweet, sweet, Pip!”

            And though he could think of no more words to say, the bundle in his arms had no such trouble.

            “Mewy,” he sighed, eyes closing, body relaxing into the embrace that always seemed to be there just when needed, keeping him safe and warm. 

            Merry found the rocking chair by the basket and sat down tenderly, afraid to jar his precious bundle, feeling his own eyes droop.  For a moment he fought off the strange fatigue that seemed to overwhelm him, then finally succumbed, allowing the grey fog to pull him under once more.

            “Merry, Merry, please.”

            Why was his lad crying?  What was wrong?  Pippin?  Why are you crying, dearest?  I’m here!

            “Merry?  Strider, I think he’s waking up!”

            “Pippin?”  Why was his voice so hoarse?  What had happened? 

            “It’s all right, Merry, I’m here, I won’t leave you, I promise!  You’re going to be all right now, won’t he, Strider?”

            Fighting against a strange lethargy, Merry managed to pry his eyes open, seeking the one face he knew would be there.  He was rather surprised at how horrid his cousin looked.

            Dark shadows bruised his eyes, and tear streaks stood out against his pale, hollowed cheeks.  Pippin clutched his cold hand between his own warm ones, holding it as though afraid to let go.

            “Pippin,” Merry breathed again, allowing his eyes to droop once more.  He could not find the strength to say more. 

            But, as sleep began to overtake him, he felt a soft kiss placed upon his temple, and one word whispered lovingly into his ear. 

            “Merry.”

            And nothing more needed to be said.