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

Merry walked in a smoke-filled haze. Sometime during the fighting, he had lost track of Pippin. He had meant to stay by his side till the end, but there had been so many of the enemy that they had quickly become separated. Merry had lost track of the number of times his sword had swung to connect with the body of an orc. It seemed like he had staggered around for hours, barely registering his surroundings through a haze of blood and sweat. He was pretty sure some of the blood was his, although he wasn't aware of any pain stemming from a wound.

The last time he had been aware of Pippin was when he had heard his cousin shout, "The eagles are coming! The eagles are coming!" He had tried to make his way toward that voice, but had quickly gotten caught up again in the fighting. He had lost count of how many orcs he had downed when the eruption had caused all fighting to cease. Barad-dur had come crashing down, and the enemy had turned and fled like the cowards they were.

At that instant, Merry knew two things; that Frodo had accomplished his task, and that he and Sam had died in the fulfillment of that task. Joy and grief both tore at him at the same time, threatening to undo him.

But the worst part of all was watching Gimli walk towards Aragorn bearing the broken body of his dearest friend and cousin. Tears were streaming down Gimli's cheeks, and Merry knew that he would be returning to the Shire alone.

-------------------------------------

At first, Merry didn't believe Gimli when he told him that Pippin was clinging to life. He couldn't believe in Pippin's survival, because to harbor hope meant to risk unbearable grief. Better to bury the dead sooner rather than later. Merry couldn't allow himself to feel relief, only to feel the sharp pang of loss when Pippin finally succumbed to his injuries. For succumb he surely would; no on could long survive the injuries that he had sustained. To be stabbed once in the left shoulder and shot with an arrow between the shoulder blades was bad enough; then to have a troll fall on you, crushing your ribs....who could live through all that? Certainly not a small halfling, no matter how tenaciously he fought to survive.

Then he got word that Frodo and Sam had arrived safely with the eagles and Gandalf. Scarred and hurt, but alive. Again, Merry buried the feeling of hope that flared within him. Sam and Frodo were both so badly injured that Aragorn had put them into a healing sleep that was to last for at least a fortnight. It took Aragorn and his foster brothers four hours to tend to the newly-arrived, unconscious hobbits. It took that long to force them to vomit up the ash that clogged up their lungs, clean and dress their wounds, bathe them, and ease water and broth down their throats. Frodo's finger stub had to be cleaned and bound immediately before infection set in. It was exhausting work.

Afterwards, Aragorn set two bowls of athelas-infused water in their tent, and laid hands on them as he chanted words in Elvish that put them into a deep, dreamless, healing sleep. This sleep slowed their metabolism so that they would only require water and broth twice a day without them wasting away. Merry wasn't allowed to see them for two days, partly to prepare him for the shock of the extent of their injuries and their change in appearance from plump, healthy hobbits to gaunt, sickly ones.

After five days of watching Aragorn tend to his three kinsmen, and keeping almost constant vigil over Pippin, Merry was overwhelmed with despair. There had been no change with any of the injured hobbits. Yes, they were all alive, but no movement had as yet been detected. They all just lay there, silent and still. Merry didn't know what would be worse; to have had them all die from the beginning, or to watch them all as they lay dying. Sobbing, Merry clutched Pippin's hand and let the tears stream down his cheeks.

Gandalf walked in just as Merry was hitching back a sob. Merry locked eyes with Gandalf, and Gandalf was shocked to see the dead look within Merry's blue ones. He had given up hope, and the anguish was eating him up inside. Gandalf strode over to the young hobbit, fell to his knees and gathered him up in his arms, holding him while Merry cried out all the tears that were left in him. Stroking his hair, Gandalf rocked back and forth while he tried to comfort the brave young Brandybuck. There were no words to be said, really. Only time would tell if these little ones would fight hard enough to come back to their kinsman.

TBC....

On the sixth day, Pippin's hand twitched very slightly, and Merry became very excited. He called for Strider immediately to come and tend to his cousin. Aragorn calmly strode into the tent and walked over to take Pippin's hand. He put his other hand on Pippin's forehead, closed his eyes, and recited some more Elvish. Merry was growing very weary of this; he didn't understand what good it did to speak in a different language when his cousin needed medical attention. The minutes dragged on, until finally Merry lost patience.

"Strider, what are you doing? Is he waking up, or isn't he? Does he need medicine? What is it that he needs?"

"What he needs is for you to trust me to know what I'm doing, Merry," Aragorn replied calmly. "Can you do that? Remember, I've been trained by the best healer in Middle Earth."

Merry sighed, shuffling his feet. "I'll try, Strider. I'm sorry, I'm just going crazy with all of the waiting. Why hasn't he woken up yet? It's been six days."

"Yes, and it may well be a few more, Merry, before he wakes up. I'm sorry, but his body needs rest to heal itself, that's why he still remains unconscious. Everything that can be done for his injuries is being done, Merry; his ribs are in the process of healing, the wounds in his shoulder and back are coming along nicely with no infections. He's been very lucky so far. Let's hope that luck continues."

Merry muttered something under his breath. Aragorn ignore it, knowing how concerned the hobbit was for his young cousin and friend.

"I’m finished here, Merry. Why don't we go sit outside, smoke a pipe?"

The two did just that. There were benches set up at the entrances to the healing tents, and Man and Hobbit sat on one of them, pipes in hand. Aragorn set to describing what Merry could expect within the next few days.

"I suspect Pippin will wake soon. I'm sure he will awaken before Frodo and Sam. When he does, you must not expect too much, Merry. He will be very weak; he probably won't even be able to feed himself or make his way to the privy. You also must be prepared for a slow recovery. He will most likely be in a great deal of pain for awhile, so I will have to keep him sedated with draughts for the first few days. I would appreciate it if you'd be willing to help him walk around the tent after the third day for exercise at least once a day, for about 15 minutes. I assume you'll be more than willing to help out whenever he needs it?"

Merry gave Aragorn a look. "Of course Strider, I’ll be there for as long as Pippin needs me."

Aragorn smiled sadly. "Of course you will, I needn't have asked. Please forgive me."

"It’s all right. You must be exhausted, Strider; when did you last sleep?"

"Oh, don't worry about me; there's enough Elvish blood in me that I can do without rest for great lengths of time."

"But you are also a Man, and therefore mortal. Which means you need sleep sooner or later, and from the looks of you, it should be sooner."

Aragorn was amused. "Well, thank you kindly for your concern, Merry. Maybe I will get a little sleep after I've finished my pipe. As a matter of fact, I would welcome some rest. It has been rather gruelling work, albeit rewarding, especially when your charges start making progress, however small. And never doubt, Pippin IS making progress."

"How can you tell?"

"Well, for one thing, his slight movement today. I find that very heartening. Also, I've noticed how his breathing has eased over the past few days. Actually, I think having you by his side has hastened his recovery. He's aware that you're here, I'm sure of it. I've almost convinced myself that I've seen slight responses to your voice in his breathing pattern, although that could just be my over-active imagination. Don't give up hope, Merry. It seems that perhaps your cousin may make a full recovery, although his bones will probably always ache whenever the weather changes. That is a small price to pay in order to come back from the abyss like this."

Aragorn took his leave of Merry to go get some rest. Thoughtful, Merry walked back into the tent, sat in the chair at Pippin's side, and took his hand. After thinking that he had lost Pippin for good, having some hope to hang onto felt good. Although Merry hated to expect too much, in case the worst still happened. It was a fine line he was walking, between hope and despair. Well, maybe not despair, but acceptance. How did one know when to accept, and when to hope? Sighing, Merry leaned back and closed his eyes. Within moments he was sound asleep.

Merry startled himself awake. His glance swiftly landed on Pippin; there was no movement, and not the whisper of a sound. What, then, had awakened him?

Shaking his head groggily, Merry stumbled to the wash basin, wet the available towel and wiped his face. He looked at his hands, and was surprised to see them trembling. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and tried to remember if he had been dreaming.

Then he remembered. He had been having that dream again. The one where he watches in horror as an orc runs Pippin through with a sword. Running towards his cousin, Merry is screaming at the top of his lungs. When he finally reaches Pippin, he turns him over, and is met with green, lifeless eyes staring back at him. Choking back a sob, Merry puts two fingers on Pippin's neck, and feels nothing; not even the faintest flutter of a heartbeat. Merry tenderly cradles Pippin's body in his arms as he slumps to the ground. He starts to keen as he rocks back and forth, stroking Pippin's face and willing him to just breathe, damn it, breathe and wake up, wake up, Pippin, WAKE UP.…

Merry forced his thoughts from the dream to the present. He took another deep breath, and started walking back to where Pippin lay sleeping. Tears were falling unheeded down his cheeks as he took Pippin's hand and brought it to his lips. He sat down, leaned over and smoothed Pippin's hair back from his brow.

"Oh, Pippin," Merry murmured. "You were ever so brave, and I'm so very proud of you. It's time to come back to me now. Sam and Frodo still sleep, and will for some time yet, but you have to wake up. You need to keep your Merry from going crazy here. No one else will laugh at my jokes the way you do, Pippin. No one else has the patience. Strider says that you're healing nicely, and that when you wake up I'm to help you with your exercises. I never thought I'd say this, but I could do with some endless Tookish chatter about now." Merry stroked Pippin's cheek with his fingertips. "I swear I'll never tell you to be quiet again, if only I could hear your sweet voice."

Almost imperceptibly, Merry felt a slight pressure on the hand holding Pippin's. Heartened, Merry searched Pippin's face for signs of life. Ever so slowly, Pippin's eyelids fluttered open, and Merry was looking into two emerald green eyes. Softer than a breath, Pippin whispered, "Merry?"

Joy flooded Merry's heart, and he couldn't help but laugh out loud through his tears. "Yes, dearest, I'm here. Welcome back."

-----------------------------------------------------

The next day, Merry rejoiced all day long. Nothing could quell his spirits, not even being banned from Pippin's tent until Aragorn finished tending to him and giving the healer his instructions. He was in and out of Frodo and Sam's tent, staying just long enough to give the unconscious hobbits updates on Pippin's condition. When Merry finally was allowed back in to see Pippin, he was given strict instructions to not over-excite his injured cousin. "He desperately needs rest, Merry, "Aragorn said sternly. "I don't want him up and about until tomorrow, when you can help him walk around the inside of his tent. I don't want to exert him unduly and undo all the healing he has done so far. Do you understand?"

Merry made an effort to sublimate his excitement. He felt such overwhelming relief, and gratitude, that Pippin was awake and recovering. "I understand, Strider. I promise I won't do anything to hinder Pippin's recovery. I just want to talk to him, be by his side for awhile."

Aragorn smiled. "Of course. I'm having some porridge brought to Pippin in a bit, that's all I think he can handle at the moment. I'd like for you to assist him as needed. Can I count on you?"

Merry grinned. "Of course you can! I've already eaten through to luncheon, so I'll concentrate on Pip and make sure he gets some solid food in him. How much should he eat?"

"Only as much as he can handle. Don't force a certain amount into him; it's way too early to be doing that. I want to see if he keeps this down, and then I'll move him on to more substantial fare. He kept the broth down up until now with no difficulties, but I’m not sure how his stomach will react to more solid food at this point. I have a healer assigned to him who will be in and out, and who will bring him his food. Make sure you don't interfere with whatever he needs to do."

Aragorn hating talking to Merry as if he were a child, but he knew what newly kindled hope could do to a person; it could make them lose their head unless they kept their wits about them. These creatures were so innocent, and Aragorn hated that they had been subjected to the horrors that they had been through. He wasn't sure how realistic Merry's expectation was as to the rate of Pippin's recovery, and he wanted to make sure he understood that it would be a slow, painstaking process. The two younger hobbits had never shown much proof that they could be patient, although Merry had been VERY patient up to this point; although if Pippin had stayed asleep for much longer, Aragorn had a feeling that the older hobbit would have been very difficult to be around.

"I understand, Strider, truly I do. I won't overexcite Pippin, I won't force him to eat anymore than he wants, and I won't get in the healer's way. Anything else?"

Aragorn smiled. "No, I think that about does it. I'll come around about dinner time to check on him again; meanwhile, I'll leave him to your tender mercies."

Merry grinned. "Thanks, Strider," and he turned and walked into Pippin's tent to await the arrival of the porridge.

Pippin didn't like the fact that he barely had enough energy to sit up, let alone hold a spoon to feed himself. He tried to be self-deprecating to lighten the mood as Merry patiently and tenderly fed him his porridge. Merry could tell that Pippin was embarrassed by how helpless he was, so he made every effort to be as understanding as possible. It was easy to do, considering how relieved and grateful Merry felt at having Pippin awake, alert, and eager for conversation.

"Merry, tell me about Frodo and Sam. Have you seen them? When are they supposed to wake up? Has the Ring truly been destroyed?"

Merry laughed gleefully. "Yes, in a few days, and yes. My, you're certainly making up for not talking for six days, aren't you? Not that I'm complaining," he added hastily. "Now I know how you felt as you waited for Strider to come and wake me up in Minas Tirith. Now all we have to do is wait for Frodo and Sam to wake up. When they were first brought here, Strider said they would probably remain asleep for a fortnight. So they'll probably wake up in another week or so. They won't believe their eyes, Pip! We've grown at least three inches since we saw them last! And you're now a guard of the citadel. Frodo will be so proud! Just as I am; I am so very proud of you, Pip." Merry blinked back tears.

Pippin reached out and clasped Merry's arm. "I'm proud of you, too, Mer. You've been ever so brave, stabbing the Witch-King, and then defeating the Shadow in order to come back to us. And it takes a special kind of bravery to set watch over your loved ones as they struggle to survive their injuries. Now that I'm awake, I can keep watch with you, over Frodo and Sam. As soon as I can get out of this confounded bed, I'll go with you to hold vigil."

"Don't be in too much of a rush; you need much rest as you can get, to save your strength, if you're going to be able to test your legs tomorrow as Strider expects. Although I don't see how he can expect that; you're still as weak as a babe, to my eyes. Are you done with this porridge, Pip?"

"Yes, I'm done, Merry. And I am actually feeling a lot stronger than I did when you first came in after Strider was done with me. I think that bit of food has helped tremendously." Pippin shifted as he attempted to sit up. Merry, ever solicitous, sucked in his breath as he rushed to Pippin's side.

Pippin pushed himself upward with his fists dug into his mattress until he wasn't touching his pillows. "I'm alright, Merry, it doesn't hurt at all. And look, I can sit up without support!"

"Just take it easy Pip", Merry worried, concern lacing his words. His brow was creased with worry as he supported his cousin with an arm around his shoulder. "You can't expect to be up and walking the same day you wake up from an extended sleep."

Pippin smiled indulgently, realizing what Merry had been through while glued to his bedside. "Yes, Mum, thanks for reminding me. I wouldn't remember on my own how exhausted I feel, even after six days sleep, since my body has surpassed its stored energy by healing my injured bits. Just because I feel like I could sleep for another week doesn't mean that I have a lot of healing yet to do, I'm sure."

Merry laughed. It was just so good to see Pippin joking around, smiling, laughing. And it had been so close....Merry blinked away the tears that threatened to spill over. It hadn't come to that, so it was no good dwelling on the might-have-beens. Pippin was alive and healing, and so were Frodo and Sam; that was all that mattered.

All of a sudden, Pippin's face became as white as a sheet; he clutched his abdomen, murmuring, "Hurts", and swooned into Merry's embrace, becoming unconcious once again.

Terrified, Merry clutched Pippin's body tightly. Panic-stricken, he shouted loudly, "Strider! Somebody, get Strider, quickly. Help! HELP!!"

The atmosphere was hushed inside the tent shared by Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf. The three alert occupants talked in subdued tones so as not to awaken the hobbit sleeping within. Merry was completely and utterly exhausted, and needed as much sleep as he could get.

"Is the young one going to be alright?" Gimli asked quietly. Pippin held a special place in his heart, ever since the Fellowship's escape from Moria. The youngster's grief and guilt over Gandalf's fall had been painful for Gimli to behold, accustomed as he had been to Pippin's unquenchable cheerfulness. He had done his utmost to raise the hobbit's spirits while they resided in Lorien, and he had succeeded, to a certain extent. The bond between the two had only strengthened on the journey from Lorien to Parth Galen. When Gimli had brought Pippin to Aragorn after finding him beneath the troll, he had been certain Pippin was dead; he had detected no signs of life within him. When Aragorn had brought him back from the brink of death, no one had been happier than Gimli, save Merry, of course. Now, to lose Pippin like this, when he had shown signs of recovery ...

"Pippin is going to be fine," Gandalf replied. "He over-exerted himself by trying to sit up on his own, putting undue stress and pressure on his internal organs, which were already bruised from the troll's weight. Thank goodness he didn't injure himself anew."

Gandalf had been the one to hear Merry's cries of dismay after Pippin had fainted in his arms. He had fetched Aragorn from his mid-day meal, and Aragorn had rushed into Pippin's tent fearing the worst. Pippin was already regaining consciousness when he arrived, much to his relief.

Merry had been beside himself, and once again had gotten himself banned from Pippin's tent. Aragorn had remained by Pippin's side for over an hour, determining what had happened and calming the young hobbit as best he could. In addition to over-exerting himself, Pippin had eaten the food given to him by Merry too quickly, and his stomach had rebelled quite fiercely, causing very painful cramping. When Aragorn left, it was with strict instructions to Pippin and his healer that he was to move as little as possible, and only take sips of broth at dinnertime for sustenance. He had taken Merry aside, and apologized.

"Merry, I'm so sorry that I didn't anticipate this happening. I should have known that he would try to take on more than he should; after all, this is Pippin we're talking about. I also should have foreseen that his stomach would react this way, and that he should have been warned to eat his food very slowly. This is my fault, and I beg your forgiveness, Merry."

"Of course you have it, Strider. You can't possibly think of everything."

"But I am a healer, and you hobbits are under my care and protection. I should have been more vigilant."

"Nonsense. Pippin and I don't deserve treatment that's different from any other person injured in your service. Frodo and Sam, on the other hand - I don't argue that they warrant special treatment, and from what I can tell, they have been receiving it. Don't worry yourself, Strider. You have a whole camp-site full of injured men to attend to. I don't expect you to only worry over Pippin. Now, when can I see him?"

"Oh, no you don't! I just gave Pippin a sleeping draught to help him rest. And you - you still haven't rested properly since the battle! I order you to get at least four hours of uninterrupted sleep; not much more than that, or you won't sleep tonight. Gandalf, take Merry to your tent and put him to bed. He is not to be disturbed until dinnertime."

"Not until I've seen Frodo and Sam," Merry said stubbornly.

"Merry! Do not make me order you, because I will if I have to; as a healer if not as your King. You may not be physically injured, but you ARE physically exhausted. It's well within a healer's right to order someone as weary as you to bed."

"Let me just look in on them, Strider, please? Then I promise you I will go to bed." Aragorn looked at Merry skeptically. "I swear! There's not much good I can do anyway with all three of them sleeping, now, is there?"

"Very well, Merry. Gandalf, please keep an eye on him and make sure he keeps his promise."

"Consider it done, Aragorn," Gandalf said, and he steered the young hobbit toward Sam and Frodo's tent. "Now you're going to have to learn respect, Merry," Gandalf chastised as soon as they were out of earshot. "I know you are used to addressing Aragorn as Strider, and to talking to him as if he truly were only a scruffy Ranger from the North. But you're going to have to realize that he is to be your King, Merry; yes, even the hobbits will be under his rule. Although I think he'll pretty much leave well enough alone in the Shire, it would be good to remember that fact. Do you understand?"

Merry sighed. "Yes, Gandalf. I keep forgetting that he truly is the King come back. No one ever thought it would happen, did they? You know that we have a saying in the Shire for something that will never happen...'When the King comes back.'

Gandalf smiled. 'Yes, I have heard it in other areas as well, not just the Shire. " Gandalf stopped walking. "Well, here we are. Don't be too long, Merry, we need to get you into bed shortly."

"But I'm not the least bit tired!"

"Once you stop and take a breath, you will be. Now off with you; I'll be waiting right here."

Merry nodded to the soldiers guarding the Ringbearers' tent as he entered. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Softly, he padded over to the two cots that were set side by side. He first went to Sam, and took his hand, smoothing the hair from his eyes. "Thank you, Sam, for looking out for my cousin. I owe you everything. Frodo couldn't have asked for a more faithful companion than you. I have a feeling that he never would have made it without you." Merry moved over to his elder cousin. Taking Frodo's good hand in his own, Merry tried to speak, but found that he couldn't for the lump in his throat. Various feelings waged within him while looking down at his cousin: fear, relief, joy, sorrow, gratitude...all were warring for predominance. Merry sat in the chair that was provided, and just looked at Frodo as tears streamed down his cheeks. He didn't know what to say, but he willed his thoughts to enter into Frodo's mind, so that Frodo could know how very proud Merry was of both him and Sam. No one else could have accomplished what they had, and although Merry didn't know what had transpired between Parth Galen and the eruption of Mount Doom, only one thing mattered; the Ring had been destroyed, and Middle Earth had been saved.

After several minutes, he found that he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. Leaning his head back, he told himself he would just rest his eyes for a few minutes. Within five minutes, Merry was snoring softly. Gandalf poked his head in, and smiled at the sleeping hobbit. Tenderly, he gathered Merry up in his arms, and brought him to his tent, laying him down on the small cot that had been set up especially for him. Dreaming of Buckland, Merry smiled in his sleep, and curled onto his side for a good, long nap.

Merry woke up as the sun first started coming over the eastern horizon. The decision had been made to let him sleep through the evening, on into the night. Clearly, he was exhausted; he didn’t move so much as a muscle from the time he lay down early in the afternoon until he awoke at sunrise the next morning. He felt very refreshed after his over-long sleep, and at first was unaware of the time until he stepped outside of the tent and looked around. Shocked that he could have slept so hard for such a long time, he inhaled deeply and let out a frosted breath. Gandalf and Gimli were both still sleeping soundly, and Legolas was up and about somewhere, as he always was at that hour of the day.

Stretching and yawning, Merry clutched his cloak tighter around himself to keep off the early morning chill; even this far south the nights and early mornings could still see temperatures below freezing. Merry cocked his head, and realized that he heard no stirrings within the camp at all, not even from the healer’s pavilion. The night must have been an easy and restful one for the wounded.

Merry strode between the healer’s pavilion and Pippin’s tent, knowing that Pippin would be sound asleep at this time of the day. He didn’t want to disturb his young cousin’s healing rest. Merry’s feet softly padded soundlessly through the camp until he came upon the banks of a small stream. He followed it as it meandered away from the camp, and found himself entering a small wooded area of oak trees that were just beginning to show their green buds. Merry hoped they wouldn’t be damaged by the frost.

Now that he was awake, Merry’s restless mind started looking for things to think and worry about. Now that Pippin seemed to be doing alright, his thoughts immediately jumped to Frodo and Sam. Maybe he should look in on them as soon as he finished with his walk. Strider seemed to think that they would be asleep for a few more days yet. Merry didn’t understand it; how much sleep could two hobbits really need? Even if they had been grievously injured, to rest and heal was one thing; to lie there unconscious for any length of time was disconcerting, to say the least. He supposed that Strider knew what he was doing, but the worrier in Merry would not let the thought rest that Frodo and Sam should have awoken by now.

As if his thoughts had taken shape, Merry noticed a Man coming towards him out of the early morning mist. It was Strider. Swallowing hard, and hoping that he couldn’t read his mind, Merry called out a greeting.

"Merry! I’m surprised to see you out here. I thought you were still slumbering away; you were a very exhausted young hobbit, I must say. What brings you out into the chill and damp this morning?"

"I woke up instantly refreshed, and I must say I’m not surprised, given the length of time that I was asleep. Why ever did you let me sleep so long, Strider? I thought you were going to wake me for supper."

"Well, I was, but when I saw how deeply asleep you were, I just let you be. I think it was the best thing for you, to sleep so well and hard."

"Perhaps so, but it can’t be good to do so 24 hours a day." He looked hard at Strider. "You know of whom I speak. Why must Frodo and Sam sleep for so long? I must say, it doesn’t seem natural."

Aragorn smiled slightly. "Are you saying that I don’t know what I’m doing, Meriadoc?" The tone of his voice let Merry know that he was just jesting, but Merry wouldn’t be put off.

"Of course not, Strider; I’m just voicing my concern, that’s all. After all, you aren’t around hobbits all the time, and perhaps don’t know all of their habits and strengths. Even a very sick hobbit won’t sleep that much."

Aragorn grew sombre. He bent over and put both his hands on Merry’s shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. "You have to remember from whence they have come, Merry. Your darkest dreams cannot begin to imagine the horrors that they have been through. They were literally at the brink of death when Gandalf and the eagles rescued them. They had been without water and food for a very long time, and neither one of them had slept well for weeks. Frodo had been wounded by orc whips and spider bites, and he and Sam both had been breathing the foul, Mordor air."

Aragorn sighed as he straightened up. "I don’t like to do it, Merry, but in order to heal, sometimes I have to. Lord Elrond did the same with Frodo as he was searching for the shard in Rivendell. He had to soothe Frodo’s mind in order to bring him back from the abyss. I did the same with you when I brought you back from the black shadow. I never delve very deeply, only on the surface. I had to know what I was dealing with in order to help heal them. You must know that I would never do anything to hurt them… to hurt any of you."

"Any of us? Us being hobbits, I suppose?" Merry was quite angry. "I can’t speak for the others, but for me, I’m tired of being treated differently than Men, Elves, Dwarves … well, everybody else! We aren’t to be handled like we're delicate glassware, Strider! Do what you must, and if you can’t save us, you must let us go. Frodo and Sam don’t want to exist as mere shells of their former selves." Tears blurred Merry’s vision, but he didn’t stop. "If you can’t heal them without taking their humanity away, then let them go. You must; Pippin and I must, as well. You have to be honest with us, and let us know when their time has come." Finally, the emotion of the moment overwhelmed him; Merry covered his face with his hands, and sobbed freely, shoulders shaking with repressed sorrow.

Aragorn gently put his arms around the shoulders of the weeping hobbit; Merry tensed slightly, but didn’t react any further. Aragorn knew that hobbits weren’t embarrassed to be seen crying by others as other races tended to be, so he just stood next to Merry, letting him know by his presence that he was available for support and conversation if that’s what Merry wanted.

As the sobs gently receded, Aragorn smiled down at the small hobbit. "Now that Pippin is recovering, your mind must find something else to worry about, mustn't it? It's not surprising that it would turn to Frodo and Sam next." Aragorn's smile disappeared, and he tipped Merry's chin up to look into his eyes. "Merry, do not relinquish hope for your kinsman and friend. Despite what it looks like, they are healing nicely, both physically and mentally. They have wandered far, and I have called them back as much as I can; the rest is up to them. I do not sense hopelessness about them anymore; at first, neither one of them wanted to return. Their burden had been so heavy, all they wanted was to rest for as long as possible. This feeling was especially strong in Frodo. And what the master feels, the servant must also. But they have turned the corner. They both want to come back now, and convincing them was half the battle. Really, Merry; I'm telling you the truth." Aragorn's grey eyes searched Merry's blue ones pleadingly.

Merry finally relented. He felt slightly guilty for chastising the future King of Gondor; he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Strider was to be King. He bowed his head. "I believe you, Strider. I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me. All the stress of waiting for them to wake up... it's finally caught up to me. I trust you implicitly; I never meant to imply otherwise."

Aragorn smiled. "Apology accepted, my young friend. Sometimes I think the hardest part isn’t being one of the wounded, but being one of those who were lucky enough to escape unscathed. Watching our loved ones suffer is never an easy thing, is it?"

Merry shook his head. "No, it’s not. But I trust you and the other healers; Frodo, Sam and Pippin are all going to be okay, thank the Valar. I don’t know what I would have done if I had been the only one left, Strider; there’s no way I would be able to return to the Shire alone."

"Let’s not dwell on that, for you won’t have to return alone. Are you hungry, Merry? My stomach tells me that it’s about time for breakfast."

Merry knew a distraction when he saw one; however, he wasn’t inclined to argue. "Starving, Strider. Do you suppose that Pip is awake yet?"

"Probably not yet; it’s still early. Why don’t we check in on him first, just to make sure he’s sleeping restfully?"

Sure enough, Pippin was sound asleep, snoring softly as healer and hobbit glanced inside his tent. Merry silently padded over to him and laid a kiss on his forehead, light as a feather. Pippin stirred slightly, and said very clearly, "No, Mother, I don’t know where Merry is; have you checked the larder?" Aragorn snickered softly, swiftly stepping away from the tent so as not to wake Pippin.

Merry stepped out of the tent and grinned at Aragorn. "He must be dreaming of the time that I broke Aunt Eglantine’s pitcher with the pretty blue primroses; it had been her favourite, and she was quite angry. I hid in the larder, and the little rascal ratted me out! Of course, he was only ten at the time; I couldn’t really blame him. It wasn’t his fault that I was clumsy."

Aragorn laughed. "I’m sure that he got into plenty of scrapes himself, knowing him. When he wakes up I shall get more stories from him about your childhood together; I’ll bet he could enlighten me on a lot of different things concerning hobbits."

Merry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I’m sure. At any rate, I’m hungry. Let’s go eat."

"Alright. I hope you don’t mind that we are joined by Elladan and Elrohir. They are the best healers in Middle Earth next to Elrond, and I usually get their opinions on my cases first thing in the morning. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Honestly, Merry, you’d think that… oh dear, you did miss supper last night, didn’t you? You must be ravenous."

The two friends chatted on as they followed their noses towards the meal tent. The mouth-watering aromas of eggs, sausages, bacon, potatoes, and mushrooms assaulted their noses and made them even hungrier, if that were at all possible. They both piled their plates high with food, then made their way over to one of the tables that had been set up, joining the Elven brothers who were already half-way done with their breakfasts.

"Greetings, Estel! Good morning, Meriadoc!" Elladan proclaimed. "How are you two this glorious morning?"

"Wonderful!" Merry responded as he sat across from them. For the next few minutes, Merry was silent as he ate while Aragorn and the twins discussed the doings for the day. The brothers were acting as Aragorn’s assistants while he acted as healer to the many sick and wounded that were still recovering. There were other healers available to help as well, but the three of them personally tended to the most grievously wounded, as well as to the three perian.

"Will Pippin be able to eat anything solid yet?" Merry asked around a mouthful of potatoes.

"I think that we will keep him on liquids today yet," Aragorn replied. "He’s not going to be too happy about that, but it can’t be helped. He also should remain in bed as well, and not try to get up yet. I want to be on the safe side."

"How much longer before Frodo and Sam are awake, do you think?" Merry asked anxiously.

"Well, let’s see; they’ve been asleep for seven full days now; another week should do it. In six days I will start giving them tonics that will bring them to wakefulness."

"Yes, that long. If we wake them before they are ready, that will be just as bad as if they hadn’t been asleep at all. The whole purpose of this sleep is for healing in both mind and body. Don’t grow impatient, Merry; it all serves a purpose."

Elrohir grinned at the hobbit as Merry continued to shovel food into his mouth. "Are you getting enough to eat, Merry?" he asked facetiously.

"I will as soon as I return with my second helping," Merry replied as he got up and headed towards the food with his plate. Aragorn tipped his head back and roared with laughter. Occupants of adjacent tables looked up from their plates and looked in his direction, clearly baffled at what their leader could find to laugh about so early in the morning.

"What’s this?" said a gruff voice. Aragorn looked up into the grey eyes of Gandalf. "What warrants such levity, my liege?" the wizard asked amusedly. "Could it be the eating habits of a certain young hobbit?"

"’Tis such, Mithrandir," replied Elrohir good-naturedly. "It is a joy to watch one eat with such gusto and enthusiasm. It certainly has whetted my appetite. I believe I need another helping of mushrooms." Winking at his brother, Elrohir stood up and made his way over to the food. As Elrohir left, Merry returned with his plate piled higher than it was the first time.

"Good heavens, Meriadoc, one would think that you’d save some for the rest of us," grumbled Gandalf.

"Remember, Gandalf, I missed supper," explained Merry. "Also, since there’s no such thing as second breakfast or elevenses here, I have to eat enough to tide me over until lunch, yes?"

Gandalf smiled. "But of course! I’d nearly forgotten how many meals you hobbits are used to having. Three meals a day doesn’t quite cut it, does it?"

"Not nearly," Merry said under his breath, but Gandalf’s sharp ears caught it, and he heartily laughed. Hobbits were such delightful creatures!

Aragorn and the twins started the day by making their morning rounds of the wounded. Gandalf kept Merry company as he started his first helping while Merry delved into his second. Merry was in high spirits after sleeping so much and being able to eat a huge breakfast. Before Pippin had regained consciousness, he had barely eaten a thing. He had had no appetite. Now, he was making up for lost time.

"Slow down, lad," Gandalf admonished. "The food isn’t going anywhere; take time to savour and enjoy it, or you’ll end up with a stomach-ache. Aren’t the mushrooms succulent?"

"Excellent mushrooms!" Merry agreed as he slowed his eating. "I’ve never seen these kind before; they don’t grow in the Shire. They’re very tasty."

"Indeed." Gandalf smiled. Hobbits never ran out of things to talk about when discussing food. "Will Peregrin be able to eat anything today?"

"Not yet; Strider says he can only take liquids yet today, and then maybe some food tomorrow. He also must remain in bed today as well. He’s going to go stir-crazy, if I know Pippin. Poor lad; I feel sorry for the healer assigned to him."

"So do I; Pippin will talk his ear off." Gandalf replied. "Well, I’m finished. I have business to attend to, and I assume you’re off to see your cousin?"

"Alright then." Gandalf stood up with his plate. "As soon as I’ve finished, I will join you and see what the young scamp has been up to from his bed."

Merry grinned. "If anyone can get into mischief without even getting out of bed, it would be Pippin."

"Good-bye, Gandalf." Merry turned to his plate and ate his remaining food with gusto. When he was finished, he returned the empty plate to the cooks, and made his way to Pippin’s tent. Merry was in high spirits, after getting a good night’s sleep and seeing to a full belly. He hoped that Pippin was awake; he missed his cousin’s lively chatter.

He stepped into Pippin’s tent, and immediately came to a full stop. Mouth gaping, his eyes roamed the entirely of the tent. Pippin’s cot was empty, and there was no sign of Pippin anywhere.

Merry closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He felt his world steadying. Really, there were only a couple of places that Pippin could be. He certainly hadn't got up and walked away on his own; he was far too weak for that. He had probably either been taken to the healer's pavilion for a bath, or someone had come to give him a breath of fresh air. Either way, he was in good hands. Merry knew he just had to let go of his worry for Pippin for now, and trust others to do their jobs.

Merry came back out into the strengthening sunlight. He noticed Gimli off in the distance, and he ran towards him. Gimli noticed the small form coming his way, and he stopped with a warm smile on his face.

"Greetings, Master Merry!" Gimli proclaimed. "And what can I do for you this fine morning?"

"Good morning, Gimi. I was wondering if you had seen where Pippin had been taken."

"Indeed, I have," Gimli smiled. "The elf took him out for his first bit of fresh air in a week! Strider said t'would be alright, and he made a sling for Legolas to carry him with. They are out by the River's edge right now, but should soon return."

Merry stared at Gimli. "But... but yesterday, he couldn't even sit up! Strider said he shouldn't get out of bed today! What if he re-injures himself?" Merry clamped his mouth shut, and regretted the words as soon as he had said them. "Strider said it was alright?"

"Of course," Gimli frowned. "Legolas never would have taken him if he hadn't. Aragorn came to check on our small friend while you were finishing breakfast, and at first, he was going to prescribe total bed rest. But after his examination, and the pleading green eyes of a certain young Took, he relented and decided that it was alright for someone to take him outside for awhile. The sling will keep him properly secure and immobile. Do not worry, Merry; he is in good hands."

Merry ducked his head. "I cannot help but worry; it is my job where Pippin is concerned."

Gimli smiled, and gently squeezed the halfling's shoulder. "And whose job is it to worry about Merry?"

"Frodo's" Merry said without hesitation. He smiled up at Gimli. "Frodo was the big brother that I never had. Did you know that he lived with my parents and me for a time after his parents' deaths, before he moved in with Bilbo?"

"Indeed? Come, why don't we go and visit said hobbit, along with Sam. Maybe as we sit and keep them company, you can tell me of your time with Frodo."

Merry readily agreed. He was in a fine mood today, and he needed a distraction from Pippin's condition so that he didn't fall back into melancholy again. Slipping his hand into Gimli's, Merry and the dwarf made their way towards Frodo and Sam's tent. The guard at the entrance greeted the two warmly, and opened the flap for their entrance.

Merry scanned the darkened tent. Frodo and Sam lay on their cots, unchanged since the last time he had seen them. Merry swallowed. He trusted Aragorn, he really did, but this sleep just seemed so unnatural. He couldn't help but worry about his cousin and friend. If he couldn't worry about Pippin, he would certainly find something to worry about.

Smiling to himself, Merry nodded to Gimli as they both made their way to the chairs set up at the heads of the cots, for the convenience of the many who were in and out, paying silent respect to the Ringbearers. Merry walked over to Frodo, and Gimli settled in next to Sam. As Merry sat, he took Frodo's hand and placed a kiss on the knuckles.

"It had always been Frodo's job to look after me when we were growing up," Merry began. "Not because he had to, or because he was told to, but because he took it upon himself to be my protector, guardian and friend..."

"Where, oh where could that Merry be? He sure has found a good hiding spot this time; I've looked everywhere and I just can't find him. I think I'll sit down and rest a bit before I resume my search."

A fit of muffled giggles greeted Frodo's ears as he sat down in the corner, near the bookcase that Frodo knew Merry was hiding behind.

"Shh!" Frodo sat up straight, making a big show of looking all around. "What was that? I could have sworn I heard something." Hushed gasps and more giggles came from behind the bookcase.

"Well I never!" Frodo exclaimed as he jumped up and leaped over to where Merry was crouched. Shrieking with glee, Merry tumbled to the floor as Frodo threw himself at the youngster, tickling him mercilessly.

After the two hobbits had tired themselves out tickling each other and wrestling around on the floor, they both rested contentedly, Frodo lying on the sofa and Merry curled up in a thickly padded chair. "Frodo!" Merry exclaimed. "Do you know it's my birthday in a week?"

"I'm going to be six. Will you help me pick out some mathoms to give out as gifts for Mum and Da?"

Merry grew thoughtful. "I was thinking maybe after your studies tomorrow? I also have some ideas for Berilac and Uncle Mac."

"I'll be happy to help." Frodo gazed fondly at Merry, and Merry basked in the attention. He was growing into a fine young hobbit, and it certainly helped that he had Frodo to guide him and entertain him as he found his way around the often constraining atmosphere of Brandy Hall. He was too little to understand how important a hobbit his father was, and therefore how important he would become as he grew older. Sometimes he sensed the tension in Saradoc as his father dealt with the everyday details that the Master of Buckland had to attend to, and it helped to have Frodo around to ease that tension. Frodo was such an easy-going lad, and enough of a loner, that he didn't mind Merry's shadowing him. In fact, he was flattered by it. It helped ease his grief to be distracted by a little 'brother'.

"I'm hungry!" Merry blurted suddenly. Frodo laughed as Merry's stomach seconded that motion.

"Dinner isn't for another half an hour. Why don't we find you some parchment and coloured chalk in the meantime? Before you know it, it'll be time to eat."

Merry agreed. Frodo reached for his hand, and Merry obliged. Contentedly humming, he walked with Frodo out of the library and towards the nursery, where Nurse always kept some parchment and chalk on hand for the young master. Supplies in hand, Merry followed Frodo to his room, where Frodo got out the book he had been reading and began to entertain himself while Merry drew and they waited for dinner to be served.

Merry smiled at Gimli as he finished his little tale. "Frodo was always looking out for me, and making sure that I was where I was supposed to be at any given time, including meal times. Father was often too busy to take much notice of me, and mother had her own duties as mistress of Buckland. It's not that they neglected me; not at all! It's just that Frodo took it upon himself to make sure I didn't feel like I was. I was heartbroken when he left us to go live with Bilbo." Merry frowned. "Although I did get over it pretty quickly. Berilac and I became thick as thieves for awhile after that. And then, of course, Pippin was born, and the roles were reversed; I got to be the older cousin looking out for the younger."

Merry gazed into Frodo's face, willing him to wake from his sleep. "Wake soon, cousin," he said wistfully. "You and Sam both. We have much to tell you, and you have much to tell us, it would seem."

"I hope that Merry is alright," Pippin said softly as he was nestled safely in the sling that Legolas held close to his body. The elf was sitting propped up under an oak tree, near to the River Anduin. Pippin was enjoying the dancing sunlight on the water, and the rustling of the newly emerged leaves overhead. It was a perfect day, Pippin decided, and he was so glad Strider had decided that he could be taken outdoors for a bit this morning. Every soldier they had come across had stopped to great the small perian. Pippin was a bit embarrassed that he had to be carried around like a baby, but he was also grateful for the fact that his prognosis was for a full recovery. Not everyone here could say that.

"I'm sure that Merry can find plenty of things to do while you're otherwise occupied," Legolas said in an amused tone of voice.

"I know," Pippin replied. "I just wish he would stop worrying himself sick over us. I am awake, after all, and Strider says that I have been healing nicely."

"Give him time, Pippin," Legolas replied. "After all, you only just regained consciousness the night before last. Before that, he wasn't sure whether you would wake at all, despite Aragorn's reassurances. He didn't know whether to hope, or to give in to despair."

"Well, it is a time to hope," Pippin said determinedly. "I will have to make him see that."

Legolas laughed. "And I'm sure you will, my small friend," he said gently. "I'm sure you will."

"Do you know that Merry has always looked out for me, and worried for me?" Pippin said.

Pippin grinned. "I could tell you one, if you like. There was this one time when I was hurt while we were playing, and Merry felt ever so responsible.... "

Pippin squealed in delight as he kicked the ball back to Merry, and Merry missed it. Clapping his little hands and jumping up and down, he cried, "I made you miss! I made you miss!"

Merry smiled indulgently as he ran to retrieve the ball. Actually, he had missed on purpose, because he sensed that the little hobbit was growing weary of the game, and he wanted to re-energize him and keep him occupied. Aunt Tina had fallen ill during their stay at Brandy Hall, and needed the rest away from her energetic young son. Merry had volunteered, as usual, to keep Pippin company for the day. At seven years of age, he was indeed a handful, but Merry knew that his fifteen year old self was up to the task.

Pippin hopped from one foot to the other in anticipation. "Hurry, Merry, hurry!" he shouted excitedly. "Kick it here, to me!"

Merry grinned. He sucked in his breath, threw the ball in the air, and gave it a hearty kick as it came down. It sailed over Pippin's head, and the youngster gleefully ran after it, arms pumping and legs flying. As he ran after the ball that had rolled into the distance, his right foot entered a small hole in the ground. Yelping, Pippin fell, rolling aways downhill until he came to rest next to the ball.

"Pippin!" Merry yelled, heart in his throat. He ran towards Pippin. "Pippin, are you alright?"

Great gulping sobs met Merry's ears as he squatted by his young cousin. Pippin was holding his foot and rocking back and forth. "Merry! It hurts! My ankle, it hurts so bad." Tears and snot mingled on his red face as Pippin searched Merry's face pleadingly for some relief.

Outwardly calm, Merry gingerly reached out to touch Pippin's ankle. At the slightest touch, Pippin started screaming. "Oh dear, Pippin, that must hurt dreadfully," Merry soothed as he stroked the young one's hair back from his face. "It looks like I'll have to carry you back to the Hall. We'll get you to a healer right away."

Pippin had never been in so much pain before. He could have sworn that his ankle was broken, although it was only badly sprained. Breath hitching, his eyes squeezed shut, he nodded. "I want my mum," he wailed suddenly, clutching at Merry's shirt as Merry stopped to pick him up.

"Well, we are on our way to see her," Merry said agreeably, keeping a remarkably calm facade in the face of Pippin's hysterics. The lad was in great pain, and needed a soothing presence. Merry told Pippin years later that inside he was trembling and panicking, Pippin's screeches grating on his fragile nerves.

Gulping, Pippin began to settle down as soon as he was in his beloved cousin's arms. He cuddled up close, fingers grasping Merry's braces. "Now, I can't run with you, but I'll walk as fast as I can, alright," Merry asked gently. Pippin nodded. "We'll be there very soon, and we'll get my father to fetch the healer. Then we'll see how your mum is feeling, and let you see her."

"Alright," Pippin hiccupped, his tears already starting to dry on his cheeks. His ankle hurt dreadfully, but he knew that his Merry would get him the help that was needed to fix him. He never doubted it for a moment. Relaxing, Pippin closed his eyes as Merry walked with his small burden, humming a tune under his breath to help distract Pippin from his pain. By the time Merry arrived at Brandy Hall, Pippin was fast asleep in his arms, despite the pain.

Merry quickly made his way to his father's study, and found Saradoc behind his desk tending to some paperwork. "Father," Merry said quietly, the least bit of a tremble in his voice," I think Pippin sprained his ankle. He needs a healer."

Saradoc immediately came to Merry's side, and took the sleeping lad from Merry's arms. At the movement, Pippin woke up, and instantly felt the pain again. Biting his lip, and trying to be a good lad, tears formed in his eyes as he looked upon his uncle's face. "Uncle Sara," he whimpered, "it hurts."

"Yes, I'm sure it does, dear. Let's get you into bed. Merry, fetch Mistress Lilac, will you, and quickly."

The healer had come, and had tended to Pippin straight away. Fortunately, the ankle was not broken, but was quite badly sprained. As she tended to him, Merry was at Pippin's bedside the whole time, stroking his hair and murmuring words of encouragement to the suffering hobbit. He was also there with him throughout the night, insisting on having a cot brought into Pippin's room so Merry could sleep next to him without disturbing his healing ankle. It was a good thing Merry was there, because Englantine was far too ill to properly soothe her injured son.

Merry took it upon himself to keep Pippin company during the next few days, as he had been ordered to keep off of his ankle until the swelling went down. Merry read to him from adventure books that he brought from the Brandy Hall library. He told him stories of Bilbo's adventure that the old hobbit had told Merry during his many visits to Bag End. He stole treats for him from the kitchens. By the time the Tooks' stay at Brandy Hall had come to an end, Pippin had become quite spoiled by Merry, even more so than he already was by his own family.

Pippin smiled at Legolas. "You see, Merry has always been worrying after me, since my earliest memories. It's in his nature, to worry about people. But it can also sap his energy and his spirits, and I am concerned for him. Who knows if the Shadow will ever bother Merry again, but when he worries, I'm afraid he is very susceptible to it. Strider did bring him back, but if he isn't careful, it could sneak up on him again. Strider warned me about that, that I'm to keep an eye on Merry and to let him know when his spirits are particularly low."

Legolas smiled as he looked down at the hobbit. "You two are lucky that you have each other to look out for."

Pippin brightened. "I know. Now the two of us will have to look out for Frodo and Sam, at least until they awaken."

"Shall we go and find your cousin? He's probably noticed that you're not in your tent by now, and is certainly beside himself with worry."

"Oh yes," Pippin said, suddenly concerned. "I need to make sure he knows that I'm alright, or he will be pestering Strider about my whereabouts."

"Let us hasten, then," Legolas said as he stood up, making sure he didn't jostle Pippin as he did so. "I'll take you to your tent, and if he's not there, I'll find him and let him know that you've returned safely."

Pippin smiled in gratitude. He was lucky to have so many friends surrounding him during his period of recovery. He needed to make sure that those friends also helped keep an eye on Merry. Although no longer physically injured, Merry still needed the help of his friends in order to fight back the Shadow that still occasionally beckoned. Pippin was determined that he would no longer have to face that threat alone.

A Time to Hope by PipMer