Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive

“To Merry the ascent seemed agelong, a meaningless journey in a hateful dream, going on and on to some dim ending that memory cannot seize.” ~The Houses of Healing, RotK

Cold. It felt cold and frequent, unnatural trembling left Merry quite fatigued from the surrounding war that was only gradually subsiding. An odd mistiness in the air was starting to affect his sight. It had seemed like days that he had been trying to manage his way through the many levels of the White City, but however long he trudged, he felt as if he were he was moving through water with leaden legs. Merry had never felt so helpless in his life and his moving was slow-going, as darkness descended quickly...

The Witch-king emerged forth once again, threatening to kill him and all his kin...the shrill sound of his cry filled his mind with dread and fear. A flash of light and all was gone…The orcs cursed at him, the constant blows of the whips was felt, blood streamed down from the forehead wound; his hands were bound and he felt helpless to resist... King Theoden was bloodied, the Witch-king advanced menacingly before Dernhelm...

Shocked from his dreams, Merry came into slight wakefulness. Had he fallen asleep upon the ground? Breathing hard and in terrible fright, he tried to convince himself that it had all been a dream. But he still could not feel his right hand, and weariness suppressed him. There were corpses littering the ground nearby, a stench of decay and ashes with spears and swords lay deserted besides their masters. He did not know where he was and where he was aiming to go. Was he going to die here overlooked, alone, and forgotten?

“Well Merry! Thank goodness I have found you!*** I have been so worried!”

The familiar voice brought him back to the present, reminding Merry of home, and he looked up into Pippin’s worried face. Dear Pippin had found him. Strong hands held onto his shoulders, pulling him up to a sitting position, and Merry almost had tears of joy to see Pippin again. Merry felt a spark of hope course through his mind once again, and he sought to stay strong for Pippin and not show any weakness.

But he only caught snatches of Pippin’s words, “Citadel,” “wrong turning,” “Gandalf,” “hurt or wounded,” before he felt his right hand cease being numb and begin to hurt horribly, a cold pain that seemed to immobilize him. Again, a constant coldness continuously seemed to force him into darkness. But he must explain his condition, and try hard not to worry Pippin.

“I can’t use my right hand … ever since I stabbed him, Pippin! I helped Dernhelm, who is really the Lady Eowyn... but …I can’t use it anymore,” Merry motioned to his right hand. “I’m not hurt anywhere else though,” he added, smiling grimly at Pippin despite the disquieting chill that was starting to fog up his mind and make his cousin’s face seem a bit blurry. “I need …a hand, in… getting …getting where we need to go, Pip.”

“It’s all right, Merry–I’m here for you—lean on me. I’ll bring you to safety,” Pippin shuddered, his eyes filled with tears to see Merry so hurt. “I’m going to bring you to the Houses of Healing– You’ll be healed there,” Pippin helped Merry up to his feet and put his cousin’s left arm around his own shoulders to support him.

“Not burying me with King Theoden?” whispered Merry, tears forming in his eyes. “He died, Pip... I hope Lady Eowyn did not die as well...” He felt helpless again, unable to help the Rohirrim to which he had pledged his service. However, he was feeling increasingly lethargic, the bone-chilling pain was spreading, and his surroundings seemed a bit dimmer than usual—or was it his tears that had made everything so unclear?

“I don’t know about them, Mer… but shush, Merry– think of yourself first...you're not in the best condition. I’m here for you—“

“All right, Pip–you… lead the ..way...” Merry’s voice dropped to a whisper. Once more he heard fell voices whispering in his ears, and the chill and pain in his arm had spread to his shoulder. The darkness seemed interminable even though Pippin was by his side.

Pippin helped Merry stand and held onto him as best as he could, but he could see that Merry was struggling hard to remain conscious. A sheen of cool perspiration gathered on Merry’s forehead, his breathing was shallow, and he was noticeably favoring his left hand. Pippin knew that he could not bring Merry to the Houses of Healing by himself; Merry’s weight had increasingly begun to bear down upon him, and he was frightfully afraid that Merry was injured more than he was telling him.

“Merry! Stay with me! Merry! You’ll be all right; we’re almost there…”

Merry’s eyes were glazed over and he seemed to not hear Pippin’s reassurances but kept stumbling upon the path they were taking.

“Merry! Do you need to rest? How are you faring?” Pippin was frantic and tried hard to hold onto his ailing cousin.

“It’s dark, Pip… and… arm’s ... hurting…” whispered Merry.

Pippin frowned, beyond worried about Merry’s state, but he was relieved to see Bergil hurrying down the path.

“Bergil! There is a wounded perian from the battlefield–you must alert Mithrandir immediately! He is quite injured...” Pippin’s voice faded and he was almost too overcome with worry and fright to know what else to say.

“I’m sorry, Master Perian; I need to run a few errands for some of the healers, but when I can, I’ll try to tell Mithrandir if I see him,” Bergil seemed amazed and shocked to see the injured, pale-faced perian before him, and he hurried along the path to try to respond to Pippin’s order as quickly as he could.

Vaguely listening as Bergil acquiesced to Pippin’s orders, Merry suddenly saw horrible images appear before his eyes. The pain become intolerable and he sank down, and remembered no more.

“Hang in there Merry... Merry! Merry!” Pippin’s eyes were now full of tears and he was fraught with dread and fear. What has happened to his dear Merry? What if Merry died? No, no–he must be all right! “Merry– please wake up....” Pippin’s voice drifted as he placed Merry’s head upon his lap, holding onto Merry’s hand, trying to prevent the unnatural iciness of his right hand from spreading and placed his other hand on Merry’s chest. “Merry—stay with me, you’ll be all right. Please be all right. I’ll let you nap only a little, just a little, Mer… but please, please wake up soon…” Pippin was frightened but he knew he had to stay brave for Merry.

Merry’s face had become too pale, his pulse was racing, and he seemed steeped deep in unconsciousness for he did not stir no matter what Pippin did or said.

It seemed like they had sat for eternity upon the cold steps of the deserted yet dirtied street. Pippin only saw injured or dead soldiers and orcs all around, many remnants of rubble all around, and shuddered upon seeing so much mass destruction of the city. Merry still did not awaken in his arms but started mumbling incoherent words, and Pippin was feeling increasingly desperate that he was wasting time that would be crucial for healing Merry. What if Gandalf never found them? What if he was the cause of Merry’s delayed treatment? What if--

Suddenly a familiar voice interrupted his dark thoughts

“Peregrin Took!”

Pippin looked up into Gandalf’s gentle and worried eyes. Gandalf reached over for Merry and picked him up. “I’m glad you found Merry, Pippin– we must all acknowledge the task that he has done. But first, we must tend to his wound. He should be borne in the honor of this city; he has well repaid my trust...”****

“Will he be all right, Gandalf? Will Merry be all right?” Pippin was trying hard to choke back the tears that were continually streaming down his cheeks. Seeing Merry pale and unresponsive was becoming too much for him to bear, and he almost wanted to weep openly but Gandalf was there, and he was Knight of Gondor and had to be strong.

“We shall see, Pippin— we shall see what Aragorn can do.”

Pippin followed Gandalf with trepidation, trying desperately to keep his hope alive.

~~~~

Gandalf had found it very worrisome that Meriadoc had not accompanied the king, Eowyn, and Elfhelm and the other soldiers of the Rohirrim back up to the Citadel. He had found out from Elfhelm that the Halfling, the king’s esquire, had indeed come along with them but they had soon lost sight of him.

“Lord Mithrandir?” said a timid voice behind him.

Gandalf turned around to see young Bergil with a solemn look upon his face.

“My lord, I have seen another hobbit with the Ernil i Pheriannath down in the first level of the city—he seemed injured ¼ and¼ I was told to fetch you¼”

“Thank you, dear lad, I shall go at once to find them,” Gandalf replied. He patted the boy on the shoulder and hurried out the door of the Citadel.

Galloping upon Shadowfax, he quickly went through the higher circles of Minas Tirith to find utter destruction all around. Chaos still reigned from the lingering battles from the Siege, with men still fighting or gathering prisoners of war together, but Gandalf paid them no heed for he had a much urgent deed at hand.

When he found Pippin with Merry, he noticed that Pippin’s eyes were filled with tears and that Merry lay very still. Gandalf lifted up the cold, unconscious hobbit and placed him upon Shadowfax. He had an ill feeling that Merry was suffering from the spell of the Witch-King, just as the Lady Eowyn did. Time was indeed precious.

“Come now, Pippin, do not be afraid. I will bring Merry to the Houses of Healing and will meet you there.” Before galloping off with Merry, Gandalf put his hand to Pippin’s shoulder, lifted his chin, looking into his sorrowful eyes and said, “Things may seem bleak now but your cousin is strong and has always shown lots of spirit. He will be all right, I promise. We will do whatever we can.”

Pippin said nothing at first, reluctant to show his fear and grief, but then he murmured, “Hurry Gandalf¼ I ¼ I¼ can’t…lose Merry.” His eyes filled with fresh tears, and Pippin found he was unable to contain his sorrow as he wept openly.

“We will make haste at once—“ As if on cue, Shadowfax sprang forward and Gandalf and Merry disappeared from Pippin’s sight.

In reality, Gandalf was keenly aware of the danger of the situation. Recalling the history of those who had tried to kill the Witch-King and those who had suffered from the Black Shadow and the Morgul wound, he knew many men who had soon fallen deathly ill from the poisons and spell of the Nine Riders’ black sorcery. There was no cure for the ailments of dark dreams, periods of delirium and sudden, deep unconsciousness, where breathing and the pulse slowed, reminiscent of death.

It was too close for comfort that Frodo had survived the Morgul wound for seventeen days, and Gandalf still marveled over that. Even though he feared for Merry, he knew that he was strong-willed and had the trademark resilience that hobbits possessed.

His task should be made renowned in all of Middle Earth for his selflessness and courage, Gandalf thought to himself. Meriadoc has indeed gained my respect and admiration for having the bravery to help slay that dreadful thing. But first, he needs a master healer to tend to him. He shall not endure this suffering without a full recovery.

Though the healers were busy caring for the scores of wounded, when Gandalf arrived with Merry, Ioreth was there to greet them.

“Mithrandir, come this way—we’ve been expecting the perian to come. We know of the great deed that he has accomplished and hope that we can revive him.”

After his clothes had been changed and his wounds bathed, Merry was placed upon the bed. Though he remained unconscious throughout, he started murmuring in his sleep as if he was trapped in a terrifying nightmare. Only then, Gandalf was confirmed of his suspicions; it was the sign of the Black Breath, which only the King could heal.

“Come on Merry—it’s all right¼ please fight this¼ Stay strong, you can fight this, I know you can,” Pippin pleaded, holding tight to Merry’s hand and stroking his cousin’s cold forehead. “Come on, Merry—please be all right,” Pippin was once again on the verge of tears, wishing desperately that Merry would wake up again, to see his blue eyes light up, the easy and happy grin that had made Pippin smile ever since he first played with Merry when they were both young hobbit lads.

Pippin did not know what else to do to help his cousin, so he began telling Merry snatches of their adventures together in the past, thinking back to when Merry had tended him when he was ill, about the trouble they always seemed to get into, escaping from scrapes but never from their mothers’ reprimands, to the time that Pippin had got into horrible trouble with a nearby family who thought that it was not funny that Pippin kept scaring their young daughter through his little practical jokes that he pulled with Merry’s help. Merry always got him in trouble—daring him to do things that really shouldn’t have done, teasing him—but Pippin never minded, and above all he loved Merry’s companionship¼ he never wanted to part from his big cousin who was more like a brother and dearer than friend to him.

A familiar hand touched Pippin’s shoulder, and he looked up and saw Aragorn besides him. “Strider! I’m so glad that you’ve come! Have you come to help poor Merry? I am so frightfully scared for him—is he going to be all right?” Pippin’s green eyes were full of tears, his tweenaged face was fatigued, and the strain of worrying had made him look older than he was.

Aragorn looked at Pippin with pity before turning to Merry, who he regarded gravely. “Do not worry, Pippin; athelas is at my disposal now and it will help. I will be back for I first need to see how Faramir is faring. Keep talking to Merry, for familiar voices usually help in calling back victims of the Black Shadow.” Aragorn gave another reassuring pat to Pippin’s shoulder before turning to leave, and Pippin decided on a whim to follow Aragorn to see if he could help, for the faster they helped Faramir, the faster they could help Merry.

He had to run errands for various people, for it was busier now than before because many injured soldiers and medical supplies were being transported into the Houses of Healing, and he had to stay by Faramir, who didn’t seem to be doing that well either. Pippin’s heart was grieved to see him in bed with a high fever, mumbling incoherent words, seemingly steeped in unconsciousness due to the fatal arrow that had pierced him.

Would Faramir be all right? I do hope that he does not die Pippin thought worriedly. He had played a role in saving Faramir, and Pippin felt closer to the man now than ever before, and he wanted desperately for him to live; for he was held up in high esteem by all who knew and loved him. He would feel quite saddened if Faramir would die. He remembered how Boromir had talked about his brother during their time together, and now he knew why Boromir loved his brother so much. Faramir had suffered enough, and Pippin wanted nothing more than to have helped save him.

But his mind constantly turned to Merry, hoping that by the time he had finished his duty, he would find his cousin awake and be on the mend.

He followed Aragorn in his gentle ministrations to Faramir and Eowyn. Inhaling the sweet healing herb’s scent calmed the nerves of everyone gathered around and seeing how Faramir and Eowyn regained consciousness brought new hope to Pippin. He lingered a bit to see the fair maiden of Rohan fully awaken but was saddened to hear that despair was still in her voice. Does the Black Breath make one so depressed after one has awakened from it?

“Come along, now, Pippin—let’s see how your cousin is faring,” Gandalf gently shepherded Pippin from Eowyn’s room. Pippin glanced back once, seeing Eomer cheered that his sister had awoken but ill at ease about her melancholy.

Gandalf went with Pippin to Merry’s room finally and saw Aragorn already there,

“You saw how athelas helped the Lady Eowyn and Faramir recover. It is a potent herb and I am certain that it will work for Merry,” Aragorn said to a worried Pippin who immediately ran to Merry’s side to grasp his hand. “These evils can be amended, so strong and gay a spirit is in him. His grief he will not forget; but it will not darken his heart, it will teach him wisdom.*** I’ve already called him back to a less dangerous state of unconsciousness, farther away from the Black Breath. This would aid in his coming back but there is more to be done before Merry awakens fully. He is not entirely out of danger yet so let us continue our efforts.”

Aragorn motioned for the healers to boil as much athelas as possible. The fresh scent of the herb filled the room, easing Pippin’s mind once more, making him breathe easier amidst his sorrow. It seemed to him that a bit of color had returned to Merry’s cheeks and his face seemed less in distress than before.

“Now comes the difficult part in finding where his mind has wondered off to in the nightmares that are still present in the semi-conscious state… We need to ensure that emotionally Merry is able to fight the Black Breath.”

Aragorn closed his eyes as he placed a warm cloth bathed in athelas on Merry’s hand, shoulder and side, murmuring snatches of Elvish into Merry’s ear in which Pippin could not understand.

It seemed like an hour had passed before Merry stirred, and his expression relaxed a bit and his breath deepened. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open and he squinted at the bright light and saw Aragorn and Pippin peering over him. He was resting in a soft bed, his arm bound in a sling, and there was a sweet fragrance in the air. Had he been asleep for long? Where was he?

“Merry! So glad to see you awake again! Are you all right? How are you feeling?” Pippin was beyond ecstatic to see Merry’s eyes open again and he squeezed his cousin’s left hand tightly.

“Hello Pippin—what time is it? I’m hungry,” Merry replied, slowly sitting up with the aid of Aragorn’s support. “Was I asleep for long? It felt dark and cold most of the time and I saw many horrible images.” Merry shuddered in memory.

“You were suffering from the Black Shadow, as they call it here in Gondor,” said Aragorn, gently covering Merry’s shoulders with the blanket. “But you’ve gone through the worst of it and I am glad to see you awake again. How does your hand and arm feel?”

“I don’t feel much but it doesn’t hurt like it did before,” said Merry. “Thank you, Aragorn, for bringing me back— those dark thoughts I had do not seem as clear now but I do remember being quite afraid for a while,” Merry paused as if in thought. “But then again, there were some images of the Shire, dimmed as they were but I remember still, a voice that kept on calling me back…”

“Pippin has been by your side for some time now and I am certain that he was speaking to you even before Aragorn came,” said Gandalf. “I’m glad that you were able to fight to darkness, Meriadoc. Hobbits have been known to resist the Black Shadow quite well,” Gandalf paused as if he were thinking back an earlier part of the Quest. “You may have anything that you desire, if it can be found in Minas Tirith, where your name is in honor.”***

Aragorn checked Merry’s pulse again and gave him some tea to drink. “It does help to have someone by your side at all times, especially for those afflicted with the Black Shadow. Bringing you back from darkness seemed a bit easier than it was for Eowyn,” Aragorn’s features became grim again as if in deep contemplation.

Merry was quiet in thought for a moment but then asked, “Is Lady Eowyn all right? The last time I saw her, she was pale and unconscious and I hope that she has since then recovered?”

“She is also in the Houses of Healing and is recovering as you are from the hurts that the Witch-king had inflicted,” said Aragorn as he brought a food tray to Merry. “She has woken and is recovering just like you are.”

“I would like to visit her after we’ve eaten… She was quite brave in slaying the Witch-king,” said Merry pensively.

“You’re a courageous hobbit too, Merry! I’ve been frightfully worried though,” Pippin said as he put his arms around his cousin. “You’ve been talking long in your sleep and you were so pale and unconscious for so long---“

“Well, I’m back and am all right now, Pip,” replied Merry glancing up at Pippin and smiling, trying to assure him that he was feeling better and did not need his younger cousin to worry about him. But then Merry frowned. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever smoke again though—King Theoden’s dead….” With that thought, Merry felt upset again and closed his eyes as if trying to hold back tears.

“Smoke and think of him… for he was gentle heart and a great king who kept his oaths, and fought hard.*** He would want you to continue your old habits and not stop because he has passed on from this world,” Aragorn said. “Do not worry so much, Merry. Rest and take it easy for a while. Please alert me if your arm hurts. I’m going to rest a little as well and then go back to healing others who have been hurt.” Aragorn turned and left with Gandalf as Pippin stayed with Merry.

The hobbits each ate in silence for a while as both were immersed in their own thoughts.

Noticing the silence, Merry said, “All right Pippin. I am fine now…how are you doing? You still have an uncharacteristically worried look in your eyes. I’m truly feeling better, Pip. Pippin?”

Pippin hesitated and then said, “I was just really scared, I must admit. While you were…unconscious, you murmured a lot in your sleep. I could not wake you and I was afraid.” Pippin clutched onto Merry’s good hand while tears had gathered in his eyes once more.

“Oh Pip! It’s all right now; I’m fine really I am,” Merry gave him his best grin possible, squeezing Pippin’s hand in reassurance. “It takes more than a Witch-king to take down the future Master of Buckland. Besides, I’m glad I took part in bringing down the foul creature that had hurt Frodo…” Merry’s voice drifted as memories of Weathertop had indeed seemed to be part of the nightmares he had.

“No, I’m all right, Pip. I was just thinking that it was not only the fact that I did not want Lady Eowyn to die unaided; she was so desperate and alone; I thought of Frodo too at that instance and that is what drove my courage, I guess.”

“You’re quite valiant, dear Merry. I’m just glad that you’re on the mend,” said Pippin, as he climbed onto the Man-sized bed and wrapped his arms around Merry’s shoulders.

“Just have to remember that in battle, what drives you is who you love and who you’re willing to fight for. I wanted to fight for Lady Eowyn, for King Theoden--- but mostly I was thinking of Frodo. It is best to love first what you are fitted to love, I suppose: you must start somewhere and have some roots, and the soil of the Shire is deep. But I do not know why I’m speaking like this. ***”

“Because Brandybucks do not know how to keep quiet even if they tried,” said Pippin with a broad grin. “I’m glad you’re back, dear Merry. Talkative and like your old self,” Pippin and snuggled closer to Merry.

“And I’m glad you found me and brought me here too, Pip. I’ll be all right—I’m glad to find you all right as well. You must’ve gone through a lot during your time in this city,” said Merry as he put his left arm around Pippin’s shoulders.

“It has been quite dreary, I must admit. But I found good company in Beregond and his son Bergil. I’m glad we won the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. At least the enemy knows that we are strong…”

“I’m glad to find my mischievous and scheming Took in one piece,” Merry stared at Pippin’s fine armor and asked, “You’ve decided to swear fealty to the Lord of Gondor as well? You must be a mind reader for I did the same for Rohan!”

“We are cousins for a reason, Merry—it just seemed like the right thing to do, you know… Boromir did save our lives. We owe Gondor so much,” said Pippin pensively.

“Boromir did indeed save us… and we are forever indebted to his kindness and sacrifice,” replied Merry with a sigh.

“But enough of seriousness, I want to smoke a bit before I must get back to my many duties,” said Pippin dramatically.

“Many duties—that’s quite a laugh, Pip—I never knew you could do more than sleep and eat all day,” Merry said jokingly.

“Maybe I enjoy it when you sleep more … then you wouldn’t tease me so,” Pippin replied, feigning insult. Then his expression softened into a smile as he said, “Merry, I’m so glad you’re all right.”

“Me too Pip, me too,” replied Merry as he hugged Pippin close to him. “Thank you for helping me.”

“It’s my job to keep you out of trouble, I couldn’t help it,” replied Pippin, hugging Merry back tightly.

Then, the two hobbits sat back and prepared their pipes, and as they smoked their pipeweed they thought about the Shire and for a moment, they were at peace with themselves and did not worry about what the future held for them.

Leaving Darkness Behind by Periantari