Merry Yules

A/N: Each of these glimpses of Yule nights shared by Merry and Pippin are 200 words exactly. My Challenge elements were Yule, bitter cold, Merry's room, and Gandalf.

Thanks to Llinos for the beta!

First Yule, S.R. 1391 (Merry is 9 and Pippin is 1)

“Wasn’t it sweet, little Merry dancing with the baby?” Esmeralda finished tucking her sleeping son under the soft eiderdown. Saradoc smiled up from where he added apple wood to the fire.

“Indeed. Almost as sweet as when he danced with you.” He rose, pulling his wife into his arms for a kiss. He kissed her again, then they looked down at their only child, dreaming deep, a smile on his face.

“I am glad that my brother could come this year. They were wise not to come last Yule; the weather was too wild for a newborn. Especially one so frail as Pippin was…is…”

Saradoc hugged her tightly. “Merry was most put out that ‘his Pippin’ wouldn’t be spending his first Yule with us, do you remember?”

“I remember.” Esmeralda laughed. “And I expect he will be most put out in the morning when he finds that Eglantine and I haven’t put Pippin’s cot in here with him as he asked. Perhaps next year.”  She sighed, a bit worriedly, and Saradoc held her tighter.

“Pippin will be just fine, love, you’ll see. Now, dance with me. Hear the music?”

Merry sighed, and dreamed of his parents dancing, bathed in firelight.

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First Yule, S.R. 1393 (Merry is 11 and Pippin is 3)

Merry sighed in relief and put his flute away in the drawer. It was over, for this year at least, and it hadn’t been so bad really. At least it hadn’t ended badly.

He skipped over to the fire to put on his nightshirt, peering over at his bed where Pippin already lay fast asleep, curled in a ball, fingers in his mouth. Oh well, thought Merry. He *is* just a baby. Then he felt badly; if it hadn’t been for Pippin, tonight would have been a disaster.

In late Autumn Merry’s mum suggested he play at the First Yule celebration. Merry practised determinedly for endless hours. The week before Yule the Tooks arrived and Pippin, always craving Merry’s company, sat by patiently, singing a wordless accompaniment.

Then tonight, in front of the entire overflowing Hall, Merry had frozen. He couldn’t remember a single note. Pippin had saved him. Assuming his Merry was only waiting for him, Pippin had trotted to his side and begun his babyish lalalalalalalalala. Merry had instantly remembered the tune, and everyone was charmed, thinking Merry had planned the whole thing.

Merry climbed into bed, wondering if by next year he could teach Pippin the words.

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First Yule, S.R. 1396 (Merry is 14 and Pippin is 6)

“Merry?”

“Pip! Hullo sleepyhead!” He felt his little cousin’s forehead. Warm, but not hot like yesterday. “How do you feel?”

“Better now I think.”

Merry sat down on the edge of the bed and took Pippin’s small hand in his. “I’m so glad Pippin.” He was very glad. Pippin had been ill too often this winter. “Can I get anything for you?”

Pippin shook his head wearily. “Where’s Mama?”

“She’ll be back directly. Your da insisted that she have a quick cup of tea.”

“All right.” Pippin tilted his head. “I hear music...” Realisation hit him and he sat up. “It’s Yule! It’s Yule Merry and we’re missing it!”

Merry smiled. “We aren’t missing it Pippin. I’m here, and you’re here. That’s enough.”

“Don’t you want to go and dance? Dancing’s your favourite part.”

“No Pippin, you’re my favourite part. But when your mum and da come, I’ll fetch some treats. And I'll ask mum to bring her fiddle. Then we’ll have our own little Yule party right here, all right?”

“Oh yes Merry! And we’ll dance, won’t we?”

“Perhaps. If your mum says all right.”

He hugged Pippin tightly. It was going to be a happy Yule after all.

********************

First Yule, S.R. 1398 (Merry is 16 and Pippin is 8)

“Sit here, Pippin, and stay warm.” Merry deposited the drowsy child into the big armchair, tucking a blanket over him. The room was chill. “Here, I saved this for you. Eat it now, no crumbs in my bed.”

Pippin woke enough to nibble the walnut cake whilst Merry roused the sleeping fire into a bright blaze. Then little face and hands were wiped with a flannel and party finery quickly peeled off. Merry popped a warmed nightshirt over Pippin’s head and caught him up with a whoop, pretending to toss his laughing cousin towards the bed, in the end laying him down as gently as a feather.

“Will you come soon, Merry?” Merry’s reply was muffled as he had disappeared under the bed. “Merry, will you?” Merry reappeared with a disreputable looking stuffed pony, once his own, now long since Pippin’s, tucking it into the lad’s arms.

“Soon enough dearest. Just a few more dances.” Merry took his own pillow and tucked it at Pippin’s side. “You snuggle that now, and warm it for me, yes?” Pippin curled into a ball, nestled against the pillow, and was instantly fast asleep. Merry kissed him and covered him warmly. “Happy Yule, Pippin.”

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First Yule, S.R. 1402 (Merry is 20 and Pippin is 12)

“Did you see me dance, Merry, did you?” The excited child scarcely could hold still long enough to change into his nightshirt. He shivered as he bounced a bit too far from the fire and Merry drew him back patiently and began undoing buttons.

“I saw Pippin. You danced wonderfully! It looked like you were having fun. Were you?”

Pippin interrupted Merry’s attempt to get him undressed by throwing his arms around his cousin’s neck. “Oh yes! I suppose dancing with lasses isn’t too awful.”

Merry hid a grin. That night Pippin had danced with his mother, sisters, Merry’s own mum, and a cousin or two close to his own age. This had freed Merry, Pippin’s usual partner of choice, to dance with several pretty young lasses close to his age. Most satisfactory all round. Pippin bounced away again, dressed for bed, and Merry hung his own nightshirt over the back of the chair to warm. He’d not be back for a while. There would be dancing for hours yet.

Merry drew the eiderdown up over Pippin’s head. “All right there? All comfy and cosy?” His cousin giggled and popped his head out.

“Comfy-cosy. Merry Yule, Merry.”

“Happy Yule, Pip.”

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First Yule, S.R. 1405 (Merry is 23 and Pippin is 15)

“Oh Merry! Did you see Mama’s face?” Pippin was fair quivering with pleasure. “She was so surprised!” He began to unload purloined treats from his coat pockets.

Merry set down his own plate of treats. And so happy, thought Merry. Just last winter…He didn’t let himself finish the thought. This was now, and Pippin was well, and it was Yule. A time for happiness and thoughts for the future, not worrying over might-have-beens.

“Thank you, Merry. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Merry nodded, throat tight. They had both worked diligently on the intricate dance till Pippin was flawless. Pippin’s first grown-up dance with his mother, and when the music started and her son came to her and bowed, tears had sprung to Eglantine’s eyes. And not only hers…

He watched fondly as Pippin brought forth a rather linty rum ball. “You know Pippin, you can bring whatever you want on a plate.”

“Not so much fun then,” Pippin laughed and plopped down by the fire. He looked surprised but pleased when Merry plopped down next to him. “Are you staying then?”

“I’ve danced enough for this year, Pip.”

Pippin slipped a hand in Merry’s. “Merry Yule my Merry.”

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First Yule, S.R. 1406 (Merry is 24 and Pippin is 16)

Merry stirred the fire. “Before we go to bed, I’ve a present for you.”

Pippin looked at him, surprised. “Another present? You gave me a grand present already. I’ve wanted one of Mr Dubberly’s roopie sticks for ages!”

“I know, and I’m pleased you’re happy. But nonetheless, I’ve another gift for you.” He drew a gay package from behind the armchair.

Excited, Pippin undid the ribbon and pulled the cloth away, revealing a fine leather case. He opened it and his jaw dropped.

Merry laughed. “Peregrin Took at a loss for words! This is a moment I won’t forget.”

“Nor I. Oh Merry…How?”

Merry grinned at Pippin’s delight. It was an extravagant gift, and meant for grown hobbits, but Pippin had fallen in love with it the moment they had seen it at the Faire. Within the case were combs and brushes in various sizes and of the finest ivory and silver. Everything a gentlehobbit needed for grooming. 
 
“When you were at the sheep pens. I know that you’ll take care of it. Perhaps you can pass it on to your son someday.”

“He’ll wait a long while, for I’ll treasure this till the day I die.”

And he did.

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First Yule, S.R. 1408 (Merry is 26 and Pippin is 18)

“I thought that you were going to bed.” Merry sniffed the air suspiciously. “Have you been smoking my pipe?”

Pippin looked up from where he sat tucked up in the armchair. “I couldn’t sleep. I just had a puff or two, Merry. It is Yule.”

“And what does it being Yule have to do with you doing something that you aren’t supposed to? I never should’ve let you try it.” Merry shrugged out of his clothes and caught the nightshirt that Pippin tossed him. “You’ve warmed it for me. Thank you, Pippin.”

Pippin yawned. “Well, I am sharing your bed so it’s in my own interest to make sure you are as warm as possible.” He hesitated, then spoke in a rush. “You seemed to enjoy the dancing this year.”

“I always enjoy the dancing.” Merry poured himself some wine, and Pippin a smaller glass. The night was bitter, and it was Yule. “Oh. You mean with Willow Hornblower.”  Pippin nodded anxiously. “She’s a nice lass, but don’t marry me off yet, Pip!”

Pippin sighed. “Sometimes it’s worrying, you being older Merry.”

“I know my Pippin. You’ll soon catch up.”

“I suppose.” Pippin grinned. “Merry Yule, Merry-mine.”

“Happy Yule, dearest.”

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First Yule, S.R. 1410 (Merry is 28 and Pippin is 20)

The two cousins whirled into the bedroom, whether dancing or holding one another up was uncertain, and ended up in the armchair. “Did you see, Merry? I danced every dance tonight!”

Merry untangled himself and rose to stir up the fire. “I did indeed and weren’t the lasses pleased! I never saw a better Springle Ring Pippin than the one you danced with Linnet Smallburrow.”

Pippin preened at Merry’s praise and tossed him his nightshirt. He shivered and moved close to the fire to change into his own.

“You seemed pleased that Estella was able to come to the Hall this year.”

“I was very pleased.”

“You danced quite a few dances together.”

“As many as was proper.” A sudden thought struck Merry. “That doesn’t bother you, does it Pippin?”

Pippin looked surprised. “Bother me? Why should it? Estella’s nice.”

“Willow Hornblower’s nice. You didn’t care for me dancing too much with her as I recall.”

“Oh! Silly Merry, that was years ago. I was just a child.”

It had been two years. Merry stifled a chuckle.

Pippin grabbed Merry, spinning him about till they both fell into bed laughing. “I do believe that I am catching up, Merry-mine!”

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First Yule, S.R. 1413 (Merry is 31 and Pippin is 23)

“Pippin?”

“What?”

“You…um…you’re in my bed.”

“Well done. Thanks for waking me up to tell me. I double up in this bed with you every Yule, Merry. Crowded Hall, lots of guests, remember?”

“Yes. Well…you seem to be…”

“Naked, Merry? Is that the word you’re looking for?”

“Yes. Naked. In my bed. With me.”

“I do beg your pardon. You’re also naked, might I point out?”

“Pippin, what…what..?”

“What happened last night? Can’t you remember?”

“I remember dancing...”

“Well done.”

“I remember drinking…a lot.”

“Quite a lot.”

“I remember coming back here with you…”

“And do you remember what happened then?”

“No.”

“I’m hurt. I thought we shared something special last night.”

“Pippin!”

“Lawks Merry, your face! Stop fretting, nothing of that sort happened.”

“Thank Elbereth!”

“You cried on my shoulder for ages because Estella didn’t come. Then you threw up all over us both. I cleaned us up and thought to put you in bed then get clean nightshirts but you passed out. On top of me. And you’re very heavy, Merry.”

“Sorry Pip.”

“You know though…you are a nice looking lad…"

“Pippin! Just go to sleep!”

“Merry Yule, Merry.”

“Happy Yule, Pip.”

“Maybe she’ll come next year.”

“Maybe.”

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First Yule S.R. 1415 (Merry is 33 and Pippin is 25)

Merry hunched morosely in his armchair, feet almost in the blaze. He was cold and could hear the wind howling over music drifting in from the Great Hall. He’d have to make an appearance, but he wouldn’t linger. He wouldn’t enjoy Yule without Pip, but there was nothing to be done. This winter was terrible, much too bitter to travel far.

The door flew open and Merry turned to see a stout, snow-covered hobbit waddle inside. He knew who it was immediately.

“Pippin!” Merry exclaimed, rushing to pull him to the fireside. He began to divest his cousin of layers of heavy clothing. “Are you mad? Is your family here?”

“N-n-no. J-j-just me. I h-have Da’s b-best pony. 'Twas q-quite a ride!” He forestalled Merry’s next question. “They know I’ve c-come. They decided to help rather than hinder, as I was d-determined.” He grinned irrepressibly, shivering.

Merry shook him gently. “You ridiculous Took! You shouldn’t have risked it. But, oh, how glad I am that you’re here!” He hugged Pippin fiercely, then tugged him towards the door.

“Come on! We’re missing the party! Mulled wine and dancing, that’s what you need, Pippin!"

"You, Merry," Pippin laughed, "That's all I need."

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First Yule, S.R. 1417 (Merry is 35 and Pippin is 27)

“So, what do you think?” Pippin closed the door behind them, joining Merry in front of the fire.

“You saw him Pippin. Dancing with your mum and mine, looking so serious. And remember when he disappeared? He was in the library staring at the big map.”

“He always dances with our mums. And stares at the big map.”

Merry blew out a worried gust. “Not like tonight. It’ll be before Yule next that he goes Pippin, I’m certain.”

“You didn’t dance much.”

“Nor did you. Not like last year.” Merry gave him a worried look. Pippin met it evenly.

“I’m going Merry.”

Merry just nodded, knowing before he started that he would lose the argument. They changed into their nightshirts and climbed into bed.

“It will seem odd if we aren’t back by next Yule. I’ve never spent Yule anywhere but here with you Merry.”

Except his first Yule. Pippin was still so small…

“I’ll be fine, Merry. I will. Don’t leave me behind. I’d just follow you.” He snuggled against Merry for warmth, giving and receiving. “Besides, you’d be cold without me, in the Wild.”

“I know Pippin. Happy Yule.”

“Merry Yule, Merry.”

It was long before either slept.

********************

First Yule, S.R. 1418 (Merry is 36 and Pippin is 28)

The Fellowship sat within the ruined building that sheltered them, huddled close to the small fire that Gandalf had allowed. Everyone was glad to be out of the bitter cold and freezing rain, pleased that the weather was bad enough that there could be no march that night.

Everyone but Merry, who sat a bit off to himself, pretending nothing was wrong, but to Pippin’s knowing eye, completely miserable.

It was First Yule and Merry was sad, and that wouldn’t do. Merry was used to a Hall overflowing with family and revelry; Yule was his favourite festival. Poor old Merry! This won’t do at all! thought Pippin.

“Dance with me Merry!” Pippin didn’t care that everyone stared like he had two heads. “You’ve danced with me every Yule, save my first. It’s tradition!”

A slow smile spread over Merry’s face and he took Pippin’s outstretched hand. They enthusiastically began an energetic reel, and Frodo and Sam joined in, laughing. The others clapped and cheered while the hobbits danced and sang, and made Pippin’s Merry merry again.

When they finally curled into their blankets, Merry hugged Pippin tightly. “Thank you, Pip. Happy Yule.”

“Merry Yule, Merry.”

“Pippin…I’m so glad you came!”

********************

First Yule, S.R. 1419 (Merry is 37 and Pippin is 29)

“Merry?”

“Go back to the party, Pippin.”

“What party?” Pippin closed the door on the cheerful music and sat next to Merry by the fireside. He took his cousin’s hand. Not cold, though a bitter night. That's a relief.

“What is it, Merry? There’s a no-holds-barred Brandy Hall Yule celebration happening in the ballroom and you’re in here.”

Merry shook his head. “I just…I don’t really know, Pippin. I suddenly had to get away.”

“Everything just too much?”

Merry looked at Pippin, surprised. “Yes, exactly. I couldn’t bear it.”

Pippin nodded. “I know what’s wrong. I felt the same earlier, but I borrowed your mum’s fiddle and I’m all right now. That won’t work for you.” He looked at Merry seriously. “Cousin, you’re too happy.”

“What?”

“We're home and you’re so happy Merry, you can’t bear it.”

Merry laughed shakily. Then began to tremble and, with a cry, fell sobbing into Pippin’s waiting arms. Pippin held him and murmured agreements to Merry’s garbled “…home…didn’t think we’d…Mum and Da…”

Merry finally sat up and sniffed. Pippin looked at him fondly. “Brandybucks. So emotional.”

A glad laugh this time, and Merry pulled Pippin into another hug.

“Yes, we’re home Pippin! Merry Yule!”

*The End*

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The sequel, Treasures and Mementos also appeared in Challenge 24 and will be posted to Stories of Arda soon. The idea of Pippin singing along to Merry's flute was suggested by Llinos. The backstory that Pippin was very ill the winters that he was 6 and 14 come from the universe that I share with Baylor, and the game of Roopie is of course her invention and belongs to her. Pippin and Esmie's fiddle playing were inspired by Dreamflower.