A/N: Well, it's a start. Not the longest chapter yet, but it'll do.

A dark sky loomed over the war-torn city of Minas Tirith. All was quiet as the inhabitants of the city held there breath; every hour could bring the news of their utter defeat or (though the chance was minuscule) the news of their victory over this Shadow. Every where was quiet, that is, except for the Houses of Healing. The Houses were all astir with activity. Wounded soldiers crying out in pain, healers bustling about, trying to ease the pain of their numerous patients. One young healer with blond hair bustled about, carrying a message. She knocked on one of the doors, and, upon hearing the answer, entered. This was the Perian, Merry’s, room. He was sitting by the window, as was usual. As he looked at her, she was struck by the deep sadness in his hazel eyes. He was too thin, and very pale. But really, it was amazing that he was even alive and out of bed, considering he had been touched by the Black Breath. Miriel shuddered at the thought before proceeding with business.

"Master Merry, I have a message for you. It’s from Halmir." The despair in Merry’s eyes was temporarily replaced with a mix of fear and hope. He took the message and sighed in relief.

Halmir was a young lad who he had become great friends with while in Rohan. Both of them had snuck into the Rohirrim. The two had gotten seperated during battle. Merry was overjoyed to find that Halmir was alive, but was crushed to find how wounded his young comrade was. The message (written by a healer, for Halmir was not permitted to read or write due to a head wound) only asked for his company. Merry happily complied, and followed the tender-hearted healer to his comrade's room.

~*~*~*~

A great fit of coughs shook young Halmir's body. Merry helped him into a sitting position as best he could, and rubbed the lad's back. Finally, the coughing subsided, and Halmir lay back on his pillows exhausted.

"Thank you for coming, Merry." The lad croaked wearily.

Merry took the lad's pale, frail hand in his own. "Anything for my dear comrade and friend."

Halmir smiled a very small smile as he drifted back into a light sleep. Merry continued to hold Halmir's hand, knowing it made the boy feel safe and secure, thus enabling him to sleep better. Merry couldn't sleep. His mind was racing and whirling, thinking of where he could be, and how he was sitting here useless to Middle Earth. He glanced down at the sleeping form. No, not completely useless. A friend is always worth time and love. Besides, he knew that Halmir would do it for him if the healers would permit it. A soft hand on his shoulder startled Merry. He looked up to see Miriel standing behind him.

        "How is he?" She asked, looking tenderly at the small, sleeping form. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

         "He's as well as can be expected, Miriel. I do feel so helpless, though."

Miriel sighed. She knew he wasn't only talking about Halmir - he wanted nothing more than to join his cousins and the captains of the West in battle.

           "Miriel!" A voice shouted. The twenty one year old shot one last glance at her friends. Merry was staring out the window again. Another call reminded her of her duties.

TBC....

copyright Frodo Baggins 2006