Disclaimer - I don't own any of the characters or places mentioned in this story. They are the property of the Tolkien estate, as are the texts from which they came. Got that? I'm just playing with them - don't sue, I'm saving up!

This contains Return of the Jing spoilers, but I'm sure you know that already!

A/N - *Cheers* I got 20 reviews!!! In only 4 chapters! Wow....

Chapter 5 - Distractions before the darkness

"Shhhh.... shhhh... you'll wake him..."

Whispers and hushed laughter roused Merry from his dreams on the tenth day since his awakening in the Houses of Healing. They had not been pleasant dreams that the hobbit had experienced , yet Merry could not remember them as being entirely unpleasant. Not that he could remember them as anything other than that, which he suspected had something to do with a tonic that Ioreth had slipped him after Faramir had told her of his nightmares.

The ongoing mutterings and utterances from the doorway brought the drowsy halfling fully round from his slumber. He groaned softly as he rolled to face the intruders; the almost healed hurt to his arm aching dully. Although the pain had subsided significantly as to not bother him often, the arm which smote the Witch King had not fully recovered from its grievances and, as to mock him, ached more now that the mental hurts had lessened. Merry squinted and attempted to see through the thick air that resulted from an odd combination of the shadow and a bright shaft of sunlight.

Bergil and the two young boys, Beven and Arron, that accompanied him took this as their cue to shuffle forward into the half-lit chamber and greet Merry.

"Master Perian, I see you have finally awoken," said Bergil, advancing to Merry's bedside and clambering onto the side of the bed, "What took you so long - it is past the tenth hour already and the sun is risen!"

Merry laughed softly, thinking that better companions for him could not have been chosen: they reminded him of many young halflings he had encountered, with a sense of mischief that could not be rivalled. Indeed, they reminded him of himself. And Pippin. Why was it that these happier times could not be regained? He feigned a groaning sound and twisted back onto his front, snoring into the pillow.

"Merrryyyyy... I know you're awake!" Bergil shook Merry's shoulders almost violently. "Come on! I was going to take you to the orchards on the southern side of the city today, and then we were going to eat luncheon there with a picnic my mother helped me prepare long before you woke!"

Merry remained on his front, beginning to feel nauseous from the rocking motion Bergil was submitting him to. It did not help that Bergil and his companions had begun to jump on the bed in a further attempt to get the stubborn halfling to give up his game and get out of bed. A loud rumble from Merry's stomach caused him to sit up and stretch, as if he had just awoken. He faked a wide yawn.

"I am hungry, what is the time...... why are you all on my bed? Can a tired hobbit not sleep in peace anymore or are the days darker than I thought?"

"Merrryyyy....." Bergil whined again, "You've been awake for agggeeesss - we were watching you!"

"All right, Master Bergil! See..." he pushed the boys off of the bed and onto the cool stone floor, "... I'm getting up! Now, what do you want to do today? I was planning on visiting the Lady Éowyn and then exploring the wondrous great library your city is possessed with...."

Bergil and his companions sighed. "You're hopeless!" Bergil commented.

Merry smiled to himself. "Not hopeless," he muttered, "Maybe playful and slightly irritating and irresponsible. But definitely not hopeless."

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The young boy looked up into the great boughs of the apple tree that hung over his head, blocking out the sun. "Just a little bit higher," he called to the seemingly small figure in the branches. A rustle of leaves and a cry of delight confirmed that the figure had reached its goal. The boy stepped back as a downfall of apples hurtled towards his sandy head.

Merry looked from his place on the long grass of the orchard to where his friends were playing. Perhaps in happier times he would have joined them. But that seems inappropriate now, he thought. Playing whilst many of the ones he loved most were facing unknown peril. Yet that was exactly what the boys were doing. Merry sighed quietly. Yes, he reasoned, they were indeed playing and enjoying their lives whilst their fathers and friends were away, but they were not of an age to understand what it was they faced. They lived in blissful and happy ignorance, with the only fear being that they would not find glory. Did they even understand what was at stake?

A loud crash followed by a hail of falling apples diverted Merry's attention. He glanced over to the tree, where Bergil and Arron were stood, white faced, in front of the heap of fruit that appeared to house their friend. He got up quickly and rushed to their aid.

"What happened?" he asked Bergil, whilst bending down and beginning to remove the ripe apples from their resting place on top of the small boy.

"We... we were just playing around, and we told him to climb higher... and I think he must have slipped or something, because the next thing we knew he was here...." said Bergil shakily, looking down at where Bevenlay.

Arron knelt down beside Merry and looked at him worriedly. "Is he dead?" he asked.

"No," said Merry, having finally unearthed his friend and taken his pulse, "But I'm not sure what may, if anything, be wrong with him, so be careful not to move him."

A sudden twitch of his leg illustrated Beven's conscious state, and Merry looked at the young boy's pale face - watching for signs that he was awake or unhurt.

"Merry...." said Bergil, nervously.

Merry stood up next to his companion.

"Yes?"

"Boo!" Beven jumped up from under the pile of apples he had been buried in.

Merry jumped with the shock of seeing the boy, so still and quiet a moment ago become so full of life, and he stepped back, slipping on the fruit and falling in a heap. The boys started laughing uncontrollably with relief.

"I thought you were hurt!" Merry exclaimed indignantly, sitting up and wiping the mashed up apple from the back of his waistcoat.

"Just a handful of bruises and scrapes," said Beven, "I've fallen before and hurt myself a lot more." he shrugged his shoulders and dismissed the pain, "My sisters and I lend our hands here in the summer. I just thought you looked in need of a distraction. I didn't mean to slip....." he trailed off, mumbling something incoherent.

"What was that?" said Merry, a smile playing on his lips now that he knew he wouldn't have to return to the Houses of Healing with another charge.

"I only meant to make all of the apples fall down and make a lot of noise and mess..."

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The picnic in the orchard continued without much further incident. Many stories were shared of mischief and mayhem, with Merry contributing many of his own tales of his childhood in Brandy Hall and his best friend's and cousin's adventures.

"...And then we ran, both of us, panting like the dogs that were chasing us... with armfuls, pocketfuls and packfuls of carrots, 'taters, cabbages and, most of all, mushrooms.... hobbits have a special affinity to mushrooms..." he paused, appearing to be a long way from Gondor for a moment before continuing with the story of one his and Pippin's adventures, "Anyway, we're running as fast as our legs could take us, between all of these great tall crops, to get out of the field... and we reached the far fence and were climbing over it, with the dogs at our heels, when Pip announces that he's got his best shirt caught on the intruder wire that Farmer Maggot winds round his fence...."

"And what did you and Mr Peregrin do?" asked Arron, eager to hear more of Merry's tale.

"We pulled as hard as we could and then ran away, of course!"

"Merry..." said Bergil, "You miss Pippin a lot, don't you?"

The smile was erased from the hobbit's face and replaced with a look of sadness. He nodded. "More than you could ever know."

The four companions sat in silence for a few minutes, thinking about what they were all missing. Their contemplation was interrupted only by the arrival of several large droplets of rain. A storm had come. They gathered their property quickly and made their way back to the shelter of the city walls.

As they approached the Houses of Healing Bergil turned to look out upon Minas Tirith. The buildings appeared stark white in contrast to the black sky. The rain was falling freely and, rather than washing clean the shadow that remained, it seemed to have deepened the darkness. He turned back to Merry and they entered the building together.

"It won't be long now."

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A/N- Alas, for we are drawing to a close now. This story was never intended to be particularly long and I feel that there is only so much more I can write before I begin to overlap with what has already been written about in RotK. So chapter 6 will be the final chapter!

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Rachel xx