A/N: In terms of timeline, both lads are in their teens. Pippin is in his very early teens and Merry is approaching the tweenager end of the spectrum. Thanks to Marigold for the beta! Written for Marigold’s Challenge 18.

Merry opened his eyes and immediately shut them against the bright light of a candle held close to his face. He felt a cool hand against his forehead, followed a moment later by a familiar, soothing voice.

“Merry? Wake up, darling,” said Esmeralda, stroking her son’s cheek. There was a rustling noise in the background and the light seeping through his closed lids disappeared, allowing Merry to manage to open his eyes and find his mother watching him, her face pale and drawn.

“Everything is all right,” Esmeralda said, smiling, though Merry could hear the worried tone of her voice. “You’re safe now.”

Merry groggily glanced down at his arm, which was bandaged tightly, and stared at it for a moment before his drowsiness abruptly disappeared and a sudden cold fear gripped his heart.

“Where’s Pippin?” he cried, sitting up far too quickly, ignoring his body’s protests: the pounding in his head and the aching in his arm. “What’s happened to him? Where is he?” he repeated, his voice growing louder with every question.

“Merry, stop,” Esmeralda said firmly, pressing her son back against the pillows. “Pippin is-”

Here, Merry realized gratefully as the door swung open and Pippin barreled into the room, followed closely by Merry’s father.

“Oh, Merry, Merry,” Pippin sobbed as he climbed onto the bed and clung tightly to his cousin. “I’ve been so worried about you!”

* * *

"Pippin?" Merry called, looking from side to side. He hated when his cousin slipped off like that, scurrying away on quick feet and ducking between the trees, only to reappear a few moments later in an entirely different place that would always startle Merry no matter how he prepared for it. "Pippin!"

His shouts were met by no sound other than the wind rustling through the leaves overhead. With a frown Merry turned, his eyes scanning the trees, and was nearly knocked to the ground by the furious pounce of a small, giggling hobbit.

"Found you!" Pippin crowed, shrieking with laughter as wrapped his arms around his cousin's neck and held on tightly, his feet swinging freely high above the ground.

"Oi!" Merry cried in surprise, both at the added weight and the sudden knowledge that Pippin had grown since the summer.

"You're getting too big for this, Pip," he protested, his arms flapping in an effort to keep his balance. Merry made no move to shrug off his cousin, however, and instead reached back and caught hold of Pippin's legs behind his knees to support him better. "Where were you hiding, anyway? I never saw you."

Pippin rested his chin on Merry's shoulder, pretending to be as tall as his cousin for a moment before answering. "I wasn't hiding, I was exploring," he said finally, letting go of Merry and landing on the ground with a thump. "Do you want to see what I've found?" he asked hopefully, hopping from foot to foot.

"Of course," Merry agreed. Grinning in excitement, Pippin grabbed his cousin's hand and dragged him into the woods, weaving a path through the trees and trampling the thin layer of frost covering the ground.

A short distance away Pippin stopped abruptly and pointed at the ground before them. "Look," he whispered, and Merry's eyes widened as he saw amidst the roots of a tall tree four fox cubs playing together.

"Aren't they so tiny?" Pippin asked quietly, his eyes trained on the cubs as they batted at the fallen leaves and twigs with their tiny paws.

"Yes, very," Merry agreed, and he and Pippin settled in to watch the small foxes curiously. The energetic cubs were amusing to observe, climbing on each other and leaping over the gnarled roots that stretched across the ground.

A twig snapped behind them, and Merry turned around, his eyes scanning the area but finding nothing amiss. He turned back, ready to ask Pippin if he had heard anything, but Pippin was watching the cubs with delighted eyes and so Merry turned his attention back to the frolicking foxes before him with a smile.

Before long another sound was heard, loud enough to distract even Pippin, and both hobbits turned to find a fully grown and snarling fox approaching from behind.

"Merry!" Pippin cried, wide-eyed and trembling in fear. The fox growled in warning and crept closer.

"Shh," Merry hissed, his eyes fixed on the fox before them.

"I'm scared, Merry," Pippin whispered shakily. The fox growled again, louder this time, causing the cubs to whimper.

In one quick move Merry snatched up a long broken branch from the ground and elbowed himself in front of Pippin. The fox advanced, gnashing her teeth, and Merry swung, narrowly missing.

Growling, the fox dashed forward, grabbing the branch between her teeth. She tugged sharply, and it almost seemed like she wanted to play, but when she snapped off the end and focused her blazing eyes on Merry and Pippin, it was clear to both hobbits that this was no game.

One of the cubs whined, high and loud, and its mother answered back in a short bark. Then in a blur of brown-red fur she leapt upon Merry, knocking him to the ground on top of Pippin. Merry cried out once as his head struck against a rock, and again when the fox bit deeply into his arm with her small, sharp teeth.

Merry cried out in pain, and Pippin, shrieking in horror, seized the broken branch and hit the fox soundly over the head. Yelping loudly, the fox let go of Merry's arm and lunged at Pippin, aiming for his face. But Merry was quicker and thrust the same wounded arm out in front of his cousin.

The fox bit again, tearing a sizeable gash in Merry's flesh. In a panic Pippin reached for a small stone and threw it at the fox's head.

His aim was sure, and the rock ricocheted off the fox's brow, causing it to release Merry's arm with a howl. Pippin quickly threw another stone, and it too hit the fox with a resounding thump.

With another yelp, the fox scampered over to her cubs and rounded them up before slinking away into the densely packed wood.

Dazed, Pippin looked over at Merry who lay clutching his arm, his eyes squeezed shut in pain.

"Are you all right, Merry?" Pippin asked, kneeling over him. He gently pried Merry's hand from his injured arm to peek between the tattered sleeve, and nearly wept at the sight of his cousin's torn and bleeding arm.

"Well," he said, recovering enough to offer a smile instead, "your arm is still there."

"That's a relief," Merry replied, managing a short laugh in return. He sat up with a grimace and rubbed the back of his head until he found the large bump already forming. Merry then inspected his arm, and frowned at the amount of blood seeping through the gashes there.

"This needs to be bound," he said, but already Pippin had unwound his scarf and begun wrapping it tightly around Merry's arm.

"There," Pippin said, tying the knot securely and sitting back on his heels to admire his handiwork. "Will that be all right until we get home, Merry?"

"I think so," Merry said with a smile. "Thank you, Pippin."

Pippin grinned, but his eyes grew wide at the sound of a twig snapping nearby.

"Let’s go," Merry said. "I don't want to be here when that fox comes back." He went to stand but the world blurred around him, and he sank back down to his knees.

Pippin's pale, worried face hovered nearby as he crouched beside his cousin. "Merry, are you going to be sick?"

"No…no," Merry murmured after a few moments had passed. "I was just a little dizzy. I'm better now," he added, smiling weakly.

Not entirely convinced, Pippin smiled back, just a little. "Let me help you up," he said, and wrapped Merry's good arm around his shoulder before they stood together. This time the wave of dizziness still came over Merry, but he recovered enough to take a few steps on his wobbly legs, all the while leaning on Pippin.

"Foot by foot. Right, Merry?” Pippin asked, grinning. It had taken Pippin a very long time to learn how to walk, and all his extended family had prodded him with that phrase each time they saw him in hopes of teaching the small child. Pippin was not entirely certain if he remembered this or if he simply had heard the story told to him so many times and from so many relatives, but he had a very clear picture in his head of Merry holding him by both hands and helping him to take a few small steps.

“Yes, foot by foot,” Merry agreed with a smile. They continued along slowly, through the densely packed trees that they had passed earlier. The dizziness returned and there were times when Merry had to shut his eyes and blindly follow Pippin’s lead because he could not bear to see the trees spin around him.

Finally they reached the road, and it was only a matter of following it until they reached the Hall.

“Almost there,” Pippin declared, ever cheerful. He glanced up at Merry and the smile quickly disappeared as he saw his cousin’s pale and sweaty face clenched in pain.

“Merry? Are you all right? Do you need to rest?” Pippin asked worriedly.

Merry shook his head a little, and the world tilted alarmingly. His stomach flopped in response and Merry felt his legs give out.

“Merry? Merry!” Pippin was crying now as he struggled to hold up his cousin.

Pippin was too small to support him, that much Merry knew, but when he tried to tell him this the world darkened around the edges. One glimpse of a pale and anguished face near his own was all Merry saw before the darkness finally clouded his vision.

* * *

“Pippin has been inconsolable,” Esmeralda said, gently rubbing her nephew’s back as he sobbed onto Merry’s shoulder.

“I discovered him trying to leave just now. He only came back because we heard you shouting,” Saradoc added, shaking his head with a fond smile.

“You great goose,” Merry said. “So you were just going to leave me like that, then?”

“No! Never!” Pippin cried, indignant. He pulled away from Merry and sat beside him on the bed, wiping his nose on his sleeve until Saradoc handed him a handkerchief, which Pippin accepted with a grateful smile and immediately put to use.

“I was going to find you another healer, one who would give you some medicine,” he said finally. “I would have walked all the way to the Smials if I’d had to, Merry!”

“Medicine?” Merry repeated, glancing at his parents in confusion.

“Pippin did not understand why the healer only bandaged you up and gave you a poultice for your arm and a cold compress for your head,” Esmeralda said softly. “He said that a hobbit can only get better with tonic.”

“Lots of tonic, and tea, and soup, and cool cloths on the head and neck, and herbal paste for the chest,” Pippin said with a firm nod.

Tears stung Merry’s eyes and he pulled Pippin into another tight hug, hating that his young cousin had become so familiar with the methods of healers.

“Oh, Pippin,” he whispered, sniffling a little. “Not all hobbits need those remedies. That’s only for when someone is very sick with a chest cold, or something like.”

Pippin nodded against Merry’s shoulder. “I thought so, but I had to be sure. I just wanted to help you, Merry. And I suppose the healer wasn’t too wrong, since you finally woke up!” he said with a relieved smile.

Merry smiled in return, though his face grew troubled as a thought took hold in his mind. “How long have I been asleep?” he asked. “And who brought me here? The last thing I remember is falling down in the road.”

“You have been unconscious for several hours,” Saradoc replied. “It was Pippin who brought you home.”

Merry turned to his cousin, astonished. “By yourself? How did you manage to do that?”

Pippin shrugged. “I just sort of pulled you along,” he replied. “I put your arm around my shoulders and my arm around your waist and dragged you. I wanted to pick you up, but you were too heavy. Someday when I’m taller I’ll be able to carry you!” Pippin added confidently.

The others laughed, and Saradoc ruffled his nephew’s curls. “I think you did a fine job today, Pippin,” he said proudly before turning to his son. “And so did you, Merry. Pippin told us about what happened with the fox, and how you protected him.”

“We protected each other,” Merry admitted, grinning at Pippin. “Da, why did the fox attack us? I’ve seen foxes before, and they were never so angry as this one was.”

“It was very scary,” Pippin said, shuddering at the memory.

“You lads were very lucky today,” Saradoc said grimly. “The fox was angry because she wanted to protect her children, just as you wanted to protect each other.”

“But we didn’t do anything to the cubs,” Merry protested. “Pippin and I were just watching them.”

“The fox did not know that, Merry,” Saradoc replied. “Think about it through her eyes: all she saw were two strangers standing over her children. She could not have known if you just wanted to look at them, or if you were going to kill them and turn them into winter coats.” Both Merry and Pippin shivered at that.

“You must be very careful with animals,” Esmeralda said. “They can be dangerous, especially when they are looking after their children. It is a mother’s instinct to protect – and I learned today that it is a cousin’s instinct, as well,” she added with a smile.

“What does ‘instinct’ mean, Aunt Esmie?” Pippin asked curiously.

“It means something that you do naturally, like breathing, or sleeping.”

“Or eating?” Pippin asked hopefully. As if on cue his stomach rumbled loudly, followed closely by Merry’s.

“Yes, Pippin,” Esmeralda said with a smile as she stood to prepare supper. “Eating is also an instinct.”

Pippin nodded sagely. “I thought so. A hobbit’s instinct must be eating!”