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New Roads and Secret Gates  by Citrine

10. To Merry, On His Birthday

Step by step, the old hobbit had climbed to the windswept garden with his basket. Kind citizens of Minas Tirith had asked where he was bound and offered their service, but he had smiled and waved them off. Now, after his bread and cheese, and a cup of wine, he felt ready for what he had come to do.

Pippin pulled a folded paper from his pocket. He'd wakened from a dream of Merry that morning, and longing for his cousin, the touch of his hand or the sound of his voice, had given him an ache in his heart.

My Merry,

Happy birthday, cousin. I know you're feasting and drinking to your heart's content, there in the Land of Always-Summer. It's lonely without you, but I get by, and everyone is very kind. Give my love to Frodo and Sam. Tell them I'm thinking of them, and you, dear Merry, always.

Pippin kissed the letter and lifted his hands, and a gust of wind whirled it up and away into the sky. Higher and higher he watched it, following it with his eyes until the sunlight made him blink, and it was gone.

"I miss you so," Pippin said.

*********

  Another double-drabble written for Toilanddrouble, this time for the 'Letters' challenge.





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