Thank You to Llinos for the beta : ) This story is dedicated to Grey Wonderer and Storyfish who wanted me to write it, and to Slightly Tookish who couldn’t wait to read it : )

The wonderful song that appears below was of course written by Llinos! Thank you so much!

 “Come on Merry,” Pippin panted. “Foot by foot. Just a bit further.” 

With great difficulty he half-carried his larger, heavier, and far drunker cousin through the door, managing to bang them both against the jamb. Ow! Bugger! winced Pippin. Merry didn’t even notice though Pippin wagered that there would be a nice bruise on his cousin’s shoulder come morning. Or rather afternoon, as morning wasn’t that far away. At least Merry wouldn’t remember that Pippin had anything to do with it, although the matching bruise on Pippin’s opposite shoulder might be a giveaway.

“Where we goin’, Pip?” Merry looked about the dim room in confusion, while Pippin struggled to hold them both upright.

“To your room.”

Merry looked about again, then peered at Pippin who was trying without success to close the door without completely releasing his hold on Merry.

“We’re in my room Pip. You get sho…sho…” Merry paused, as if realising that something didn’t sound quite right. He worked his mouth silently for a moment trying to trick it into making the right sound, then apparently gave it up as a lost cause. “Sho mussled…muss…mudd…confused sometimes.”

He sniffed and drew himself up to his full height, which was rather taller than Pippin. That fact seemed to make him feel absurdly superior at the moment for some reason and he smirked. Then he lost his balance and swayed alarmingly. Pippin, caught at an awkward moment, was forced to let go of the doorknob and grab at Merry with both hands but he couldn’t hold him and Merry listed to the side causing the door to bang closed. The room went pitch dark and Pippin was slammed between his cousin and the door with enough force that he felt the air leave him with a whoosh. Gasping for breath Pippin shoved at Merry, who didn’t budge.

“Mer…Merry! Move, will you? You’re squashing me.”

There was no answer and no sign of Merry moving.

“Merry?”

Still no answer and for a moment the room was absolutely quiet, the music and sounds of celebration in the Great Hall shut out with the light when the door had closed. But just for a moment. What was that noise? Oh, surely not! He wasn’t?

He was! Merry was snoring! Exasperated, Pippin managed to wriggle down and out into the dark room. Merry, losing his prop, slumped against the door and began to slide bonelessly downward. Pippin caught at him frantically knowing from experience that if his cousin made it to the floor that there was little chance that he would be able to get him up again. He failed abysmally and found himself pulled down with a whump into Merry’s lap, his cousin’s arms wrapping around him tightly. Merry snored on obliviously, gusting breaths laden with pipeweed, alcohol and something even worse that was really quite disgusting.

Grimacing in distaste Pippin struggled, quite unable to get free but with the result that Merry at least stopped snoring. But instead of letting Pippin go he increased his hold, nuzzling his nose into the vicinity of Pippin’s ear. Pippin froze.

“Ummm…Stelly…”

The nose began burrowing about, and a few sloppy drunken kisses landed on Pippin’s neck while a hand groped for a non-existent bosom. Pippin squeaked and tried to twist away but this just seemed to make Merry even more determined. A tongue found its way into Pippin’s ear and he jumped and struggled in panic.

“Merry! Stop that! Merry!” This was hardly proper behaviour for a gentlehobbit!

Merry nuzzled insistently. “Mmmm…love you Stelly. Do you love me?”

Oh dear! While there was little chance that Merry would remember any of this tomorrow, a fact that was looking more desirable by the moment, Pippin didn’t want to say the wrong thing, yea or nay. It wasn’t his place to speak for Estella, though he knew that she had whispered those words to Merry last Yule, just once. Merry had been so happy when he’d told Pippin, that he had swung him in circles just as he had when Pippin had been a little lad. While there was no evidence to indicate that she had changed her mind, that did not necessarily mean it was still true. Lasses could be fickle Pippin knew; he had three older sisters after all. This called for diplomacy. He pitched his voice to what he hoped sounded like a lass, and twittered shrilly, “You know how I feel about you Merry.” There. That should do. Very clever Pippin, he congratulated himself. For about five seconds.

Merry smiled against Pippin’s neck. “Yesh…give us a kiss then, love.” Horrifyingly the sloppy wet kisses began to move inexorably from neck to chin to the vicinity of his lips, spurring Pippin to even more frantic efforts to escape. To no avail. Several long moments later Pippin was scrubbing frenziedly at his mouth in disgust, thinking rather uncharitably that Merry’s skill at kissing left much to be desired. And apparently the counterfeit Estella’s own lack of participation had been noticed even in Merry’s extremely drunken state, for Merry seemed quite put out.

“You don’ love me after all.” He sniffed sadly.

Oh no.

“Why would you say that?” Rather than mortify Merry by revealing that he had just rather enthusiastically kissed his best mate, Pippin answered shrilly in his lass voice - which he would have been rather disappointed to learn wasn’t that much different than his normal tone.

Merry shook his head despondently. “You didn’ kish me back. You didn’ come for Yule this year, and you wouldn’t kish… kiss me just now.”

Pippin thought for a moment then answered quite reasonably, “Well…Merry dear…I couldn’t very well kiss you if I am not here, could I?”

Pippin could almost hear Merry’s mind working as he tried to muddle that through and he didn’t need any light to know exactly the look that was on Merry’s face. It was an expression that Merry got quite often when in Pippin’s company for some reason, even when he hadn’t had too much to drink. Pippin took the opportunity of Merry’s temporary confusion to squirm free and made his way confidently across the familiar room in search of the bedside candle. Light a few candles, build up the fire, help Merry to bed, then himself and tomorrow the poor old lad probably wouldn’t remember a thing. And just as well. Love and lasses! Far more trouble than they were worth!

Pippin found the candle and lit it and the others on the mantle. Then he turned towards Merry. His cousin was still sprawled in front of the door, from the looks of it, fast asleep again. Passed-out, rather.

“Merry. Merry, wake up!” He prodded him gently in the ribs with a toe but Merry’s only response was to once again begin snoring loudly and Pippin sighed. He had his work ahead of him but he couldn’t just leave him there. He picked up Merry’s legs, tucked his cousin’s feet under his own arms, and tugged. It was hard going towing Merry across the room to the armchair and Pippin couldn’t help hoping that the cause of poor Merry’s misery and thus his own, Miss Estella Bolger, was equally as miserable. He was willing to wager that she was.

For the past few years Estella had been extending her annual winter visit with her bosom friend Pervinca by accompanying the Took family on their Yule trip to Buckland. The first year she had come along because there was sickness at Budge Hall and her mother didn’t want to risk Estella becoming ill, but by the end of that visit it was plain that she was well and truly smitten with Merry. It was also plain that Merry returned her regard. The two had always been friendly but something between them had changed that first Yule and in between the yearly visits the two kept the Post quite busy.

This year however Estella had not been able to come, had not even been able to visit Vinca thanks to Estella’s two ancient maiden aunts, Euclidia and Eustacia. Behind her back Euclidia was known as Snip, by virtue of her penny-pinching habit of refusing to pay a fair price for anything, and Eustacia was nicknamed Snap, by virtue of her sharp tongue. The pair had declared that at 110 they were now too old to live on their own with just a dozen or so servants to look after them. They sold their rather large smial for an enormous sum and descended upon Budge Hall, making themselves quite at home.

As was typical of Bolgers, the two did not hold with “gadding about the Shire”. Because Estella’s father hoped to receive a rather large bequest upon their passing (which at 110 he reasoned could be any minute despite the fact that both of them were as spry as 90 year olds) he had declared that this year Estella should stay home and benefit from the “precious time” she was able to spend with her aunts.

Upon receiving Estella’s letter Merry had put a cheery face on things but those closest to him could see how disappointed he truly was. Merry was sensible enough not to become so heartsick as to let his enjoyment of the festive season be totally spoiled by Estella’s absence and everyone had made an extra effort to ensure that Merry had a good time, so he had been happy enough regardless.

Until tonight. Tonight was First Yule and the sight of happy couples dancing and everyone’s clever manoeuvrings to get someone special under the mistletoe had made Merry more and more melancholy as the evening went on. He had danced; with his mum and Pippin’s, and with Pervinca and Pearl and Pimmie, and his cousin Celandine, and with Pippin himself as was their tradition. He had kissed his mum and various elderly aunties under the mistletoe. But it was obvious that he was missing Estella and well-meaning friends and family had plied him with glass after glass thinking to cheer him. The drink had flowed freely and Merry had partaken of far more than was good for him.

Pippin couldn’t recall ever seeing his responsible Brandybuck cousin this deep in his cups and had taken it upon himself to remove Merry from the party, though it was still in full swing, lest Merry do anything that he would be too mortified to learn about on the morrow. He had already managed to keep Merry from joining the rowdier lads in teasing the lasses outside their powder room. Prevented him from wrestling Berilac over the last jam tart (he had eaten it himself to end their childish quarrel over it), and barely managed to save him from setting his Aunt Lavender’s hair on fire whilst trying to light his pipe. Finally Pippin decided that leaving the party and putting Merry to bed would be the best option.

He had had quite the time to get Merry here. First the two of them, Pippin not being a hundred per cent himself, and besides he had to keep good old Merry company after all, had regaled the rather severe portrait of old Marmadoc the Masterful hanging outside the Great Hall with several rousing choruses of “Aunt Petunia’s Knickers”*.

Then there was an emergency halt while Merry was noisily sick in the umbrella stand in the central corridor. Pippin was not particularly worried about that, as someone most always was; the Brandybuck’s always threw such rousing good parties.

There were a few moments of panic when Merry was startled by their reflections in the big mirrors that were placed across from each other near the main doors. Then once Merry had got over his fright he found it very amusing to spin around and shout ‘Surprise!’ at their reflections in the mirror behind them but after he had done that several times he was so dizzy that he sat down hard in the middle of the floor and it was quite a while before Pippin could get him to his feet again. The further along towards Merry’s room they got, the harder it was for Merry to walk on his own, so at the end Pippin was nearly carrying him.

That had been difficult enough but at least Merry had helped a little. Now he was just deadweight and it was almost more than Pippin could manage to drag his cousin across the room. He made a last great effort and finally they were there. Pippin sighed with relief, or gasped from exhaustion, or more likely a bit of both. After he had caught his breath he propped Merry up comfortably against the side of the armchair. Then he turned to stir up the banked fire, but scarcely had he done so than the snoring conspicuously stopped and he heard a great yawn. He turned to see Merry staggering to his feet and looking about himself, confused.

“Wha’ happened to th’ party?”

The fire sprang into life and Pippin quickly threw on some wood, replaced the poker and took Merry’s arm before he could fall down. Five minutes ago. Why couldn’t he have woken up five minutes ago? “The party is over Merry-lad.” For you anyway. He helped Merry back to the armchair and Merry fell into it.

“Oh.” Merry rubbed his temples with shaking hands. “D..did I have a good time?”

“You had a wonderful time.” And you’re going to be paying for it in the morning, thought Pippin as he brought both of their nightshirts over and carefully hung them before the fire to warm. Then he pored Merry a mug of water. “Here, drink this and maybe you’ll feel a bit better.”

“Don’ want it.”

“It will do you good, really it will,” Pippin wheedled. He held the mug under Merry’s nose and sloshed the water around invitingly.

“Nooo! Pip don’! I think I have to go!” Merry lurched upright and began to fumble with the buttons on his breeches, looking around urgently. He knocked over the fire screen in his frenzied spinning and both nightshirts fell half into the fire. Pippin reflexively threw the mug of water at the blazing cloth but to no avail and then just grabbed the ends that weren’t cheerfully burning to cinders and tossed them into the conflagration before the carpet could catch. Then, mindful of his cousin’s rather imperative need he darted to fetch the chamber pot but a desperate cry from Merry stopped him.

“I’m stuck! Pippin! Help me!”

He spun to see Merry half bent over and hopping frantically, knees pressed together in desperation and his right hand held awkwardly at his groin. The tie on his cuff had become twisted around one of the buttons on his breeches and Merry was caught! If the situation hadn’t been so urgent Pippin would have laughed. As it was he dashed to Merry’s aid only to be smacked hard in the chin by his cousin’s flailing left arm as Merry jumped madly about. For a moment Pippin lay dazed on the floor, seeing stars and wondering how he had got there.

“Pippin! Where did you go?” Pippin picked himself up from the floor rubbing his chin. “Stop fooling around and help me!”

“Stand still then! Merry! Stand still!” But Merry couldn’t and to avoid being floored again Pippin finally dove in low and pushed Merry back down into the armchair where he might have a chance at getting his cousin untangled before it was too late. Pippin didn’t even want to contemplate the alternative but he knew that he would not like it.

He knelt before Merry who was by this time moaning in misery and went to work on the knot, which was not easy because Merry was bouncing vigorously in his distress. Suddenly sounds of the party filled the room and there was a quavery, “Oh, pardon me, I’ve come down the wrong corridor again…”

Startled Pippin looked up to see Merry’s very old Great Uncle Dinodas peering into the room. He struggled to get up from his extremely compromising position on his knees in front of Merry but Merry had not noticed their visitor and was having none of it. He pushed Pippin back down with his free hand clenched in Pippin’s hair.

“Don’t stop!” Merry moaned urgently. “Hurry up, I can’t wait!” Pippin tried to find words – any words at all - to explain to Great Uncle Dinodas but managed only a mortified squeak.

Old Great Uncle Dinodas turned very red. Almost as red as Pippin. “I do beg your pardon…” He peered at them shortsightedly. “Berilac and Pimpernel is it? I am sorry!” He began to back out of the door. “You newlyweds don’t mind me, I must have got turned round. Just looking for the privy…goodnight! Yes, goodnight!” The door closed rather hard.

Pippin had an irrational urge to go after Great Uncle Dinodas and have strong words with him about his assumption that Pippin’s sister would do such a thing with Berilac as Great Uncle Dinodas clearly mistakenly assumed that they were doing, whether they were married or not, but quickly thought better of it. Instead he blessed his luck that Berry looked so much like Merry and he himself apparently greatly resembled Pimpernel. Not to mention the lucky fact that Great Uncle Dinodas couldn’t see much more than a foot in front of his nose. At last he triumphantly bested the tangle and undid the remaining buttons, then left Merry frantically trying to free himself from his breeches. Pippin scrambled under the bed for the chamber pot and emerged to see that he was too late.

Sighing in relief, Merry was happily relieving himself in the coalscuttle. 

                                                                     ~*****~

Twenty minutes later Pippin had taken care of the little problem with the coal scuttle, got them both into their nightshirts and dressing gowns, helped Merry to clean his teeth and wash his face, and given him a headache powder and several mugs of water so that perhaps his cousin would escape at least some of the effects of the nights depredations. He did not bother to ring for a servant at this hour on First Yule, or rather Second Yule at this point, but instead slipped out to fetch more water himself.

He came back into the room, this time locking the door tightly behind him, to find Merry huddled despondently in the armchair. Pippin wedged himself next to his cousin, arranged his legs comfortably across Merry’s lap and draped a companionable arm around him. “What’s the matter, Merry-lad? Tell your Pippin all about it.”

Merry dropped his head onto Pippin’s shoulder and sighed miserably.

“I’m drunk.”

Pippin grinned, and acted surprised. “Are you then?”

“Yesh.” Merry nodded solemnly and then sighed again. There was a long pause, and then, “I m..missed her this year, Pip.”

“I gathered that.”

“I’m s..sorry. I tried not to let it show.” He sniffed and sighed again, then hiccupped. Despite Pippin’s ministrations Merry was still very drunk indeed and Pippin knew that only a good sleep would see him right. First though he would want to talk, and perhaps have a good cry. Brandybucks could be so emotional, especially when they had taken a drop too much, and Merry had drunk far more than that. Pippin patted Merry’s shoulder soothingly.

“Silly Merry. There’s no reason that you shouldn’t.”

“Yesh… yes there is. I didn’ want to spoil anyone else’s good t..time.” He wiped away a tear. Pippin smiled fondly.

“You didn’t spoil anyone’s good time, don’t fret. It was a wonderful Yule,” Pippin declared stoutly. And it had been, bruises and blazes and embarrassments notwithstanding.

Merry thumped his head against Pippin’s shoulder in acknowledgement and, after a lengthy silence asked, “Do you suppose that she missed me too?”

“I am certain that she did. She was probably completely miserable.” Pippin wondered if that had been the right thing to say or if it would set Merry off in commiseration for Estella, but Merry smiled, pleased.

“I hope that she did. Though I guess I wouldn’t want her to feel so bad as I do right now but…well, yes I would. Is that h..horrible of me Pip? It sounds so mean when I say it aloud.”

Pippin planted a kiss in Merry’s curls. “There is not a mean bone in your body Merry. You’re just in love and you hope that Stelly loves you back as much as you love her. That is what you mean, isn’t it?” 

Merry nodded tiredly. “Yes… you always know what I mean Pippin. Thanks.”

“No thanks necessary. And you are my Merry after all, who would know you better than I?”

“At least you were here Pip. It wouldn’t be Yule at all if you weren’t with me. I j..just wish…” Merry trailed off and for a moment Pippin thought that he had fallen asleep again, but then Merry’s shoulders began to shake and, unsurprised, Pippin heard the soft sounds of weeping. Poor old Merry!

Pippin murmured nonsense and rubbed his back until Merry quieted, then he fished in the pocket of his dressing gown until he found a handkerchief. Merry took it solemnly and wiped his face and blew his nose.

“I am acting like a lovesick fool. I am sorry Pippin.” He hiccupped again and tossed the handkerchief aside, fumbling in his own pocket in search of a fresh one.

“Don’t be sorry. You’re acting like a drunken Brandybuck and, as I am rather fond of this particular Brandybuck, I don’t mind at all.” He stopped Merry when he brought forth a pretty blue hanky and started to dab at his eyes. “Here, not that one.” He took it from Merry and wiped away the tears with the cuff of his own nightshirt.

The silky blue hanky had come in the envelope with one of Estella’s letters in the summer and Merry had been very soppy over it ever since, declaring that it was a favour such as maidens gave their true loves and that he would treasure it always because it bore Estella’s scent and the touch of her hand. Personally Pippin thought that the hanky reeked rather overpoweringly of violet, but he supposed that Stelly had soaked it in the stuff so that the scent would last. It seemed the sort of thing that a lass might do. Any road, Merry would be quite distraught if he blew his nose on it and it had to go in the wash.

“Better now?”

“Y..yesh. Thank you Pippin.”

“You’re quite welcome Merry dear.”

“I love you Pip.” Merry patted Pippin’s face with a clumsy hand.

Pippin took the hand and held it, partly out of fondness and partly in self-defense. “I know Merry. I love you too,” he said patiently.

“You’re my very best friend Pippin, you know that don’t you? And my best cousin, an… and everything. You take such good care of me and I am so silly and don’ d..deserve it.” With a wail he dropped his head back onto Pippin’s shoulder.

Pippin hugged him. “Don’t be daft Merry. I haven’t done anything for you that you haven’t done for me.” He recalled the tangled cuff and button and amended that. “Or rather wouldn’t do for me. Probably. After you finished rolling on the floor laughing.”

A sob turned into a chuckle, then Merry sat up clumsily. “I’m tired Pip.”

“Come along then old fellow and your best friend-cousin-and-everything will get you tucked up snug in your bed. I’d say that you’ll feel better in the morning but I am rather afraid that you won’t.” He helped Merry to his feet and divested them both of their dressing gowns. Then Pippin put a steadying arm around Merry and steered him towards the bed. They hadn’t gone two feet before Merry stopped, swaying alarmingly.

“Merry?”

Merry clutched at Pippin, his eyes squeezed shut as if to keep the room from spinning. He looked very green. Pippin knew what was coming but if he let go Merry would fall. He tried to at least take a step back but it was no use and Merry was sick over them both. Barely managing not to be sick himself Pippin helped Merry to his knees and held him while he retched. When he was finally finished Merry knelt there, trembling in misery.

“Sorry…sorry Pip.”

Pippin felt quite miserable himself at this point but said kindly, “There’s nothing to be sorry for Merry. Better out than in! It was my fault for giving you all of that water and then making you walk too fast. Consider us even now. Remember Pearl’s wedding?”

Merry managed a rather hysterical chuckle and tried to stand but Pippin wouldn’t let him. He peeled Merry’s soiled nightshirt off, and his own, used them to mop up the worst of the mess on the floor and then threw them into the far corner in the vicinity of the laundry basket. Then he bade Merry sit where he was on the floor while Pippin fetched towels and soap and water and got them both washed. He helped Merry to rinse his mouth, then got him to his feet once more.

“Ready for another try?” he asked cheerfully. He was never going to be so happy to see the end of First Yule as he would be this year.

Merry nodded carefully, eyes closed, and leaning heavily on Pippin managed this time to stagger all the way to the bed.  Pippin held him steady with one hand while he turned the eiderdown down with the other.

“Let’s get you into bed and then I’ll get us some clean nightshirts, all right? I’m sure there must be a couple left, though I may have to borrow one of yours. Merry?” There was no answer. Eyes closed, head lolling back, his mouth open, Merry looked to be out on his feet. He couldn’t have waited one more minute, thought Pippin long-sufferingly. First he tried shoving Merry up onto the bed, but he was too heavy. Sighing, Pippin climbed on the bed himself tugging and manoeuvring Merry up after him, but somehow it all went very wrong and suddenly Merry was toppling forward. Before Pippin could get out of the way he found himself crushed into the soft mattress, pinned down by a very heavy cousin. Drooling on Pippin’s neck, Merry mumbled something incomprehensible and wrapped himself around Pippin like a limpet. Then he began to snore.

No amount of pushing and prodding could shift him and finally Pippin gave up. Resigned to being incredibly uncomfortable for the remainder of the night or until Merry rolled over or Pippin suffocated, whichever happened first, he managed to reach down and snag the eiderdown. He pulled it up and covered them both as best he could.

“Merry Yule, Merry,” he whispered. “Sleep well.”

Merry squeezed him tighter and murmured, “Mmmm…Stelly?”

Pippin froze. “Oi! Merry Brandybuck, don’t even think about it!”

End 

*Addendum: This is a well known bawdy hobbit ballad, albeit a slightly tamer version than that sung at Brandy Hall in the depths of winter after the ladies had retired. Nevertheless the younger faction, not yet privvy to the full glory of what really went on in Aunt Petunia's Knickers, still thought this was pretty wicked.

Aunt Petunia's knickers

Were as large as they were long,

Baggy and saggy, they reached her knees

Where she tied them with a thong.

Aunt Petunia's knickers

Were as strong as they were true,

The gusset so tough it was reinforced

With oliphaunt leather and glue.

Aunt Petunia's knickers

Were laundered on Monday morn,

Tubbed and scrubbed for six whole days

Before they could be worn.

Aunt Petunia shivered

While her knickers were in the wash,

She sent for the tent the circus used

And into that she'd squash.

Aunt Petunia's knickers

Live on in ballad and tale,

The fantastic elastic that held them up,

Was never known to fail.

Aunt Petunia's knickers

Are a legend that will not die,

The rumours of her bloomers are all true

Because hobbits never lie!