Merry was wandering, lost and alone, through a dark valley. He had lost Pippin some time ago, and his heart ached for his best friend’s cheerful voice. He was cold, so very cold. It was as if he had been cast into snows deeper and far icier than those of Caradhras, and was slowly succumbing to them.

     There were voices all around him, too. They were evil things, cold and cruel, and they made Merry shudder and cringe away in fear.

     “We have your cousin,” they taunted. “We took him for what you did to Lord of the Nazgul, and we will make you regret it for the rest of your life.”

    Merry looked around frantically in the darkness. “Pippin? Pippin?!” he screamed. “Where are you?!”

    “We have him,” the cruelest voice murmured. “We will let you see what your stupidity has done to him when the time comes.”

      The shrill sound of Pippin screaming reached Merry’s ears, and he cowered down in the darkness, clutching his head. “No! Leave him alone!” he cried, trying to sound fierce and commanding. His voice came out soft and scared, and the scream was repeated, its agony intensified.

   “Pippin,” Merry sobbed. “Oh, my Pippin, I’m so sorry!”

   Then the screams were gone, and Merry was left curled in the darkness, cold and heartbroken, and ready to despair. He had let them capture Pippin. Now they were going to torture him, and it was all Merry’s fault. Maybe if he gave up and died now, Pippin would forgive him.

     This seemed like the best idea, and Merry cast himself down, ready to give up and die. He lay curled up, arms drawn over his head, shuddering. Everything was deathly still around him, as silent as a grave. Then, softly, almost imperceptibly, he heard it. A living voice.

      “Merry,” it called softly. “Merry.”

      “Pippin?” Merry called into the darkness. “Pippin, is that you? Where are you?”

      “Pippin is with me, Merry, safe and waiting for you to come back,” the voice replied, soft and soothing to Merry’s fear and hysteria. “Follow my voice, Meriadoc. Come back to the light.”

    Merry stood up and listened to the voice. It was strong and familiar, and its very tone spoke to him of bright summer days in the Shire, of peace and comfort with the cousin he loved best.

     “I can’t see you,” he whispered. “I’m tired. And I’m so afraid.”

     “I know you are, but the evil is over, and you are safe.”

      “Is Pippin all right?”

      “Yes, he is here with me now. Will you follow me? Will you come back?”

      Merry hesitated for a long moment. Rest, and safety, that was all he wanted. “Yes, I’ll follow you.”

TBC