***This is the story that I thought I would *never* write. I had no intention of ever taking on this subject until this version of it came to me. Warnings for character death.

Beta by Llinos and Marigold (Big thank-yous to both of them)

THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES...

It was late or perhaps it was very early. It was all the same really. Pippin didn’t care one way or another. He hadn’t slept well but he doubted that anyone in his position would have done so. The day had been his worst ever. He had not been expecting Merry to die. Being Pippin, he just didn’t think of those things. Oh, he’d noticed how very old Merry was getting but he’d always thought of his dear cousin as being indestructible. Hadn’t Merry been a source of strength to him all of his long life?

Naturally, in Pippin’s mind, Merry would be alive and doing well long after Pippin had gone. The trouble with this line of reasoning was that it had been incorrect. Here Pippin was and Merry had shuffled off beyond the horizon without even saying goodbye.

Pippin had come into their shared rooms to find Merry slumped over in his favourite chair by the window. Pippin hadn’t really thought anything was amiss because Merry often fell asleep sitting up these days. Merry, himself had joked that he actually got more rest in the waking hours than he did at night.

Smiling, Pippin had approached Merry with the idea that he might tease him after waking him for elevenses but Merry had been beyond waking. Pippin sighed and turned over in the bed, restless now.

He felt as if someone were watching him. It was as though someone were in his bedchamber observing him as he slept or tried to sleep. Poor Strider had done his very best to console Pippin but it was soon evident that nothing would relieve the poor hobbit’s suffering just now. Strider convinced Pippin to take a sleeping draught and try to sleep. Pippin had agreed reasoning that he would need to be well rested tomorrow for Merry’s wake. He gave up the task of writing a proper eulogy for his cousin and allowed himself to be put to bed.

He realized that he must have slept very soundly for he actually felt quite refreshed. Pippin stirred and opened one eye a crack and that was when he realized that he must still be sleeping. Sitting across from him, on the foot of the bed opposite, was Merry.

“Go away,” Pippin mumbled turning his back on the dream-Merry. It was too painful to be imagining Merry just now. He tried to push the dream from his mind but this was a very stubborn dream.

“That’s a fine greeting for a very old friend,” Merry said quietly.

“You’re not here so go away,” Pippin said firmly squeezing his eyes shut.

He heard Merry chuckle. It was that rolling chuckle that would escape Merry from time to time when Pippin had said or done something a bit off kilter. “If I’m not here then how can I go away?”

Pippin made a low growling sound and pulled the blanket over his head. “Why oh why do I have to dream you so very like you were? It’s my dream after all. Why can’t you be a wee bit civil in it?”

“Maybe you aren’t dreaming,” Merry said softly.

“If I’m not dreaming then I will personally leap from that window over there and fly around the city in naught but my skin,” Pippin said irritated.

The dream Merry chuckled again. When the sound of his laughter had faded away it was very quiet for a time.

Pippin finally dared to remove the blankets that covered his head. He turned slowly over to face the spot where dream-Merry had been. He looked at the foot of Merry’s bed. It was empty just as it should have been. Satisfied but disappointed all the same, Pippin turned over on his back and stared up at the high ceiling. He was alone. It had been a dream.

“What are you looking for up there, Pip?” Merry’s voice asked startling him badly.

“Don’t do that,” Pippin said turning to see Merry lying on the bed next to him. “You’ll give me a heart attack.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Merry smiled propping himself up on one elbow and looking over at Pippin.

“Just because you’ve gone and died it doesn’t give you the right to scare me to death,” Pippin objected shuffling back away from dream-Merry. “First you frighten me near out of my wits by dropping dead just before elevenses without so much as a hint that you planned to go and now, just when I’ve got used to you being gone, you turn up and try to kill me.” Pippin frowned at dream-Merry. He rubbed his eyes as if trying to clear his vision. “This is the last time I take any of Strider’s sleeping draughts. The side effects are very jarring.”

“So, I’m a side effect from a healing draught now, am I?” Merry said grinning impishly.

That was when Pippin began to study his dream-cousin more closely. The slightly wicked grin, the bright grey eyes, the full, thick, head of honey coloured curls; he was dreaming of the old Merry, or rather the very young Merry. This was Merry before the Quest, before marriage, and before this final trip to Minas Tirith. Pippin peered at dream-Merry with interest and even a touch of wonder. “You’re looking well for a dead hobbit,” he mused.

“Thank you,” Merry smiled sitting up on the bed and sticking his thumbs into the armpits of his waistcoat. “I feel well.”

“I’m glad,” Pippin said seriously. “You haven’t seemed well in ages. I was a bit worried these last few weeks. Granted, not as worried as I should have been had I known that you planned to die on me. Still, you were starting to nod off during meals and you’d begun to say the oddest things.”

“You always have,” Merry said arching one brow.

“I always have what?” Pippin asked puzzled.

“You always have said the oddest things and so naturally as we grew older and you continued to do so, I didn’t think anything of it,” Merry grinned.

Pippin scowled at him. “You’re a clever dead hobbit too, aren’t you?”

“Dead clever. That’s me,” the dream-Merry said standing and stretching.

Pippin snorted. It wasn’t at all amusing and yet it was. Well, the mind does play tricks on a hobbit when he gets past a hundred years. Besides, he was asleep and he was also grieving the loss of his dear cousin. He supposed that under the circumstances it might be understandable that he was confused enough to laugh at something so morbid. “Why are you here?” Pippin wanted to know. He sat up in the bed and looked at Merry intently.

“At first I wasn’t certain about that myself, Pippin-lad,” Merry said with a shrug. “I was ready to go on. My old worn out self was slumped over in that chair like an old rag doll and here I was with nothing to keep me. I was ready to make for whatever lies beyond this place. I even started walking. I think I got some distance from here but all of the sudden I noticed that I was coming back again. I thought that I must have got turned around though I can’t say how.”

“You’re lost?” Pippin looked stunned and slightly amused. “You’re never lost. How is it that you can be lost now?”

“Don’t look so surprised, Peregrin,” Merry said, dryly. “It isn’t as if I’ve been here before. As far as I know this is the first time I’ve been dead and I don’t have a map handy.”

“Is there such a thing?” Pippin asked curiously.

“Is there such a thing as what?” Merry frowned.

“A map of Over-heaven.”

“I don’t believe I’ve made it to Over-heaven yet,” dream-Merry said. “I can’t seem to leave Minas Tirith and as nice as it is, it isn’t Over-heaven.”

“There would have to be maps,” Pippin said thoughtfully ignoring Merry for the moment and concentrating on the interesting subject of maps of Over-heaven. Pippin was never especially fond of maps but even he would be interested in one that depicted Over-heaven in all of Its splendour.

“Why would you think that there would be maps?” Merry wanted to know watching his cousin with amusement.

“Well, you’d not be happy in an Over-heaven that didn’t have maps and everyone is supposed to be happy in Over-heaven,” Pippin reasoned. “So, there must be a map.”

“Pip, you are just as daft as I remember you,” dream-Merry sighed shaking his head.

“Well, you can’t have forgotten me so soon,” Pippin said annoyed. “You only left at elevenses yesterday.”

“It seems longer,” Merry said.

“It does seem that you’ve been gone forever or it did until you turned up in my dreams and decided to torment me,” Pippin said looking a bit sad. “I actually missed you before. A lot.”

“I know,” Merry said softly. “I was very sorry about that.”

Pippin wiped a tear from one eye and Merry changed the topic quickly. He’d seen Pippin cry enough for one day. “At least I was sorry until I saw that you meant to dress me up for my send off in the dreadful teal-coloured waistcoat. I never liked that waistcoat and here I find that you intend to have me spend eternity in it!”

“I gave you that waistcoat!” Pippin spluttered. “When I gave it to you, you said you’d be wanting to save it for a special occasion,” Pippin went on looking angrier by the minute. “You told me that over and over. Every time I suggested that you wear it, you told me that you wanted to wait for exactly the right event. Finally, the last time I suggested that you wear it, you looked at me very seriously and said, “I hope you don’t mind, Pippin but I’ve decided that I want to keep this lovely teal waistcoat so that I might be dressed in it when I die.”

“Oh,” Merry winced smacking his forehead. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

Pippin nodded glaring at dream-Merry.

“At the time I thought I’d have a chance to get rid of the thing before I died,” Merry sighed. “I misjudged things slightly.”

Pippin frowned. “You really don’t like it?”

“I really don’t like it,” Merry said. “And now, because I didn’t bother to own up to that fact, I suppose I will just have to go through eternity looking like I had no taste whatsoever all because I was trying to avoid looking that way in life.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that you didn’t fancy the waistcoat?”

“I didn’t want you to sulk,” the dream-Merry said. “I hate it when you sulk.”

“I wouldn’t have sulked!” Pippin objected. “It’s a stylish waistcoat and so it was your loss that you didn’t wear it but I wouldn’t have sulked. Just because I went to the trouble to get you something special only to have you tell me that you thought it was rubbish, I wouldn’t have sulked.”

Merry smirked. “You’re sulking now!”

“I am not,” Pippin said annoyed. He folded his arms over his chest and glared at dream-Merry. Then, suddenly, as Pippin often did, he smiled. “It doesn’t matter now. You’re dead and so you have no say in it. Tomorrow, when they dress you for the wake, if you’re still hanging about, you’ll see how fine you look in that waistcoat and then you’ll change your tune.”

“I refuse to be here for my own wake,” Merry said wrinkling up his nose in distaste. “It’ll be entirely too depressing.”

“I’ll try not to fall apart if that would suit you better,” Pippin said. He was getting used to this conversation that he was having in his sleep and a part of him was beginning to think of this dream version of Merry as if he were the real Merry.

“I’m not worried about you,” dream-Merry grinned. “You’ll be fine. I just don’t want to watch all of my other friends suffer.”

“So, you aren’t at all worried about me but you’re concerned about your other friends?” Pippin looked slightly hurt.

Merry shrugged. “I don’t have to worry about you. You’ve done all of the damage that you’re likely to do. Of course, I’d give a bottle of Buckland’s finest if you hadn’t managed to select my final attire but at least I have the peace of mind of knowing that you did mean well and that you were following my instructions.”

“I’ve planned a speech of sorts for your passing,” Pippin said, crawling out of the bed and walking over to face dream-Merry. “I have it all written out and it’s quite good really.”

“A speech, eh?” Merry said looking interested.

“Of course,” Pippin said. “I wanted to give you a proper send off and because I know you best, I felt that I should be the one to speak, if I could.” Pippin wiped at his eye again. “I worked out what I wanted to say partly for something to do. It was odd how thinking about your eulogy occupied my mind so that I didn’t dwell upon my grief too much.”

Merry scratched his head as if trying to puzzle out how a thing like that might work. “Did you say anything nice about me?” Merry wanted to know.

Pippin flushed with pride and rushed over to the little corner desk that he and Merry had shared when Merry had still been alive. He picked up several sheets of paper, cleared his throat in preparation but before he could begin, dream-Merry interrupted him by asking, “You plan to read all of that?” Pippin noticed dream-Merry was looking uncertainly at all of the pages in his hands.

“What do you mean?” Pippin frowned.

“You’ve written enough there to bore all of Minas Tirith to death,” Merry groaned. “By the time you’ve finished reading that I won’t be the only one in need of a funeral.”

Pippin riffled through the papers. “You haven’t heard it yet and already you’re editing it?”

“I don’t know if I have time to hear it all,” Merry laughed gently. “Seriously, Pip, don’t you think that it’s a bit long?”

“I had a great deal to say,” Pippin said, his eyes betraying him. He looked down at the papers in his hands and sighed. “I’m not terribly talented when it comes to writing things down. Frodo was the one with the talent there. I tend to ramble when I write. I wanted to say what I was feeling and it just spilled out onto the pages.” He looked up at dream-Merry. “Before I realized what I’d done I had filled all of these with ramblings about you.”

Pippin was a bit surprised when dream-Merry walked over and took the pages from his hands and began to glance through them, smiling as he read. Nervous suddenly, Pippin reached for the pages. “You don’t have to read them if you don’t want to,” he said, a tiny part of his mind wondering why he cared if this dream version of Merry read his notes.

“I want to,” Merry said. “I won’t be here for the wake and so I’d like to know what you had planned to say about me.”

“W-where will you be?” Pippin asked placing a hand on Merry’s arm and looking worried.

“I don’t know,” Merry frowned. “It’s as I’ve said. I never seem to get there so I really don’t know where I’m going.” He smiled at Pippin. “Don’t worry. Over-heaven is supposed to be a marvellous place. You’ll like it there.”

“I suppose I shall but I’m not going just now,” Pippin sighed sounding like a small child who was being left behind.

Merry grinned. “Yes, you are. I’m afraid that you won’t get to read your speech at my service, Pip.” Gently, he turned Pippin so that he was looking over towards the bed. “I think I’ve just figured out why I couldn’t leave Minas Tirith.” He pointed at a figure lying peacefully in the bed.

Pippin gasped. “I-I’m over there! How can I be over there and over here at the same time? What kind of foolish dream is this?” Pippin began to slowly move towards the bed, one hand stretched out in front of him as if feeling his way in the dark. It was no longer dark however. The early morning sun was peeking into the windows.

A shaft of light fell across the face of the old hobbit lying in the bed and both Pippin and Merry stared down at him. “I’m smiling,” Pippin whispered.

“You do that sometimes,” Merry said softly. “Sometimes in the night I would wake up and there you’d be, sound asleep with this little smile on your face.”

Pippin reached down and patted the wrinkled hand that was lying on top of the blankets. “I look so old, Merry,” he said sadly.

“You were old, Pip,” Merry said.

“I never felt old.”

“I don’t think you ever were old inside, just on the outside,” Merry said. “Maybe that’s why you still smiled in your sleep.”

“Merry, I’m dead!” Pippin said surprised.

“I knew you’d come to that realization sooner or later,” Merry said. “It’s a bit of a surprise at first but you do get used to it.”

Pippin looked down at himself on the bed and then back up at Merry. “We have to call someone. Someone has to be notified.” Pippin turned from the bed and walked towards the door to the room. “I have to get Strider.”

“Pip, it’s too late for that now,” Merry said gently.

Pippin turned and looked at Merry, confusion plain on his now-youthful face. “We can’t just leave me there,” Pippin objected.

“Strider or someone will find you soon, just as you found me,” Merry said evenly.

“You don’t seem to be terribly upset that I’ve just died,” Pippin frowned. “You’ve not even shed a single tear. I cried for hours when you, well, when you decided to leave me.”

“I didn’t decide anything,” Merry objected. “Folks don’t just decide to die. It was my time apparently and so I just died.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you aren’t a tiny bit sorry that I’ve died,” Pippin said clearly annoyed. “Look at me, Merry!” Pippin walked towards the bed, pointing to his old self. “I was too young to die.”

“Pippin, you were a hundred and one! That is not too young for anything,” Merry reasoned rubbing his temples with his fingers and wondering if hobbits were supposed to have headaches once they were deceased!

“You lived to be one hundred and nine,” Pippin frowned. “You were nearly as old as Bilbo Baggins was when he had his famous birthday party and disappeared from the Shire. I was only one hundred and one and just recently at that.”

Merry rolled his eyes. “Pippin, it was your time. You can’t change that.”

“But isn’t it a wee bit sad?” Pippin asked.

Merry walked over and joined his cousin by the bed and clasped the old Pippin’s hand in his. “Yes, I suppose it is a wee bit sad. He was a fine, old gentlehobbit and I was proud to be his friend and his cousin. I’m very glad that he didn’t suffer.”

Pippin blinked. “I didn’t feel a thing really. I was too busy being annoyed with you to notice that I’d gone.”

“You look so peaceful,” Merry smiled. Then he looked at Pippin. “To answer your earlier question about why I’m not in tears or terribly sad, that is because even though you’ve died I feel like you’re still here with me as close as ever.” He grinned. “If you hadn’t died then I’d be going to Over-heaven alone and leaving you here but you decided to come along and how can I be sad about that?”

Pippin’s hands fell to his sides and he seemed at a complete loss. “What do we do now?”

“I think that you and I are about to go on another journey together, Cousin,” Merry smiled. “ You just had to follow after me just like you’ve always done.”

“You think that I died on purpose just to keep up with you?” Pippin looked stunned.

Merry shrugged. “You never could stand it when I’d go off and leave you behind. You have always been my shadow, Peregrin Took and it looks as though you are going to follow me right into Over-heaven.”

When Pippin was unable to respond Merry said, “Are you frightened?”

“Not if we can go together,” Pippin smiled. He turned and caught sight of himself in the mirror. “I’m a lad again!”

“You can’t be more than twenty-five or so,” Merry agreed. “You are the youngest looking old hobbit I’ve seen in some time.”

“Do you suppose that we’re the same age now, finally?” Pippin asked looking hopeful.

“In the Over-heaven, I don’t think age matters,” Merry said patting Pippin on the shoulder. Suddenly they both heard footfalls in the hallway and Merry began to shove Pippin forward. “We have to go now.”

“Why?” Pippin objected.

“You don’t want to be here when they find you,” Merry said. “It’s very sad. I was still here when you came and found me. Trust me when I say that you’ll be better off if we leave right now.”

“Where do we go?” Pippin asked. “This most assuredly, as Gandalf might say, is not a hobbit walking party!”

“That way, I think,” Merry said pointing to a window.

“Out of the window?” Pippin looked a bit shocked.

“You’ve never been afraid of heights before. Don’t start now,” Merry said pulling Pippin towards the window as he spoke.

“Just don’t get us lost, Meriadoc,” Pippin warned as they climbed over the windowsill. “I do not want to spend eternity wandering about aimlessly.”

“We’ll be fine this time,” Merry said reassuringly. “I think I know where we go now that we’re together again. Just try to keep up, Peregrin.”

“Race you to Over-heaven,” Pippin grinned and out of the window they went.

*****

“They looked at peace,” Aragon said smiling sadly at Arwen that evening when the wake was long over. He couldn’t stop thinking about his two dear friends.

“They were at peace and they were together,” Arwen smiled.

“There is one thing that I don’t understand,” Aragorn frowned.

“Only one?” she asked looking at him teasingly.

“Why did you stop me from dressing Merry in the waistcoat that Pippin had selected?” Aragorn asked.

“Merry hated that waistcoat,” Arwen said simply.

“And you aren’t going to tell me how you know that, are you?” Aragorn said taking her in his arms.

“I just know,” Arwen smiled leaning her head against his shoulder. For a moment she thought that she heard the sound of laughter and running feet and her heart was light.

The End

GW 01/19/2008