A/N: Written for Periantari as a holiday ficlet, from a plot bunny she requested.

A Moment's Peace

Gandalf left the two hobbits sitting together in silence. Cold and fatigued after his ordeal, Pippin sank back against the bracken. Merry watched him for a moment, less angry than anxious, before collecting Pippin's blanket, which lay in a tangled heap nearby.

"Here," he said, speaking for the first time since he had been woken by the sound of screaming. "Wrap up in this, you're shivering." He peered closely at Pippin. "Are you all right?"

Pippin was trembling from fear, not from cold, but he accepted the blanket gratefully. At least Merry was speaking to him now. He would not, before, and that had bothered Pippin as much as the memory of what he had seen in the stone and the sound of that foul voice that still rang in his ears. Pippin smiled weakly. "I'm fine now."

Merry smiled back, just a little, and brushed a couple of wayward curls out of Pippin's eyes. "I was terribly worried about you. First it seemed you would never come back, and then your voice sounded so strange."

"I'm sorry," Pippin said. "I don't know why I did it- well, that's not true at all. I wanted another look at that stone. But I'm sorry I did it, and made you angry. You're very angry with me, aren't you?" he asked, feeling very young and small and foolish.

"Of course," Merry replied, though he smiled. "I'm mad at myself, too, for not doing something to stop you. I should have known that you wouldn't put it out of your mind so easily." He sighed. "Well, what's done is done, and even Gandalf thinks everything could have turned out worse. And that's something, isn't it?"

Pippin nearly laughed at that. "I'm not used to Gandalf being so cheerful."

"Neither am I," Merry agreed. "Come on," he said, tugging Pippin down so that they both lay on their makeshift bed. "Gandalf won't stay cheerful for long, and when tomorrow comes he'll be back to his grumpy old self, hurrying us along to Helm's Deep. Let's sleep now."

"I don't want to sleep," Pippin whispered. "Every time I close my eyes I see that stone before me, glowing. I'm afraid I'll dream about it, and that he will see me, somehow."

"All right," Merry said gently, reaching for his hand. "Just rest, then. I'll stay with you."

At that moment a shadow fell over them.**

**J.R.R. Tolkien, The Two Towers, "The Palantir"