Summer

On his way in, Merry passed the lookingglass in the hall and paused to give the leaf-shaped brooch at his throat one final tweak. He decided he looked very presentable. His sword was on his hip, every curly hair on his head and feet were brushed to a shine, and his green surcoat with the white horse of Rohan pressed and neat. This was a wedding, and the only thrown missiles would be the bridal-posy and handfuls of petals, so he had left off most of his heavier gear. Through the half-open door drifted the sweet summer-smell of cut grass and humid earth. He heard the sound of merriment and laughter, a few painful squeaks and squeals from the band tuning up, punctuated by a few toots on penny-whistles by assorted hobbit youngsters who were impatient for the vows to be done and the party to begin.

Pippin had felt a little flushed and had gone in to splash some cool water on his face. He had been gone for so long that a few of the groom's party had started to drift toward the ale kegs, and several of the younger bride's maids were showing dangerous signs of North-Took temper. "Pippin!" he said. "Let's get on with this, before I have to put down a mutiny!" His voice echoed, and there was no sound of hurrying footsteps, and no sight of his missing cousin. He closed the door behind him. "Pippin, where are you?"

Pippin's face peeked around the edge of a doorway. He didn't look flushed anymore, except for bright spots of colour high on each cheek. "Hide me," he said. His voice was very timid.

Merry laughed. Pippin always was a funny fellow. "Hah, Diamond's family would hunt you down wherever I put you, so you may as well come out."

"I've changed my mind," Pippin said, still in the same voice.

Merry sighed in exasperation and came to take Pippin's arm. "Come on, Pip, everyone's waiting." Pippin didn't resist when Merry pulled him out of hiding. Pippin looked like a prince in his sable and silver Gondorian uniform-a prince going to a funeral, judging by his expression. “Great heavens, you look faint! Are you all right? Here, come sit down, I'll get you something to drink. Where do they keep the brandy around here?"

"I don't want any," Pippin said. He sank down on a footstool and put his head in his hands. "I can't go through with this Merry."

Merry pulled up another footstool and sat in front of Pippin, so they were knee to knee. This sounded serious. "Why not?"

Pippin groaned. "I'll make a terrible husband, that's why not! Diamond deserves better. I slurp my soup, I chuckle in my sleep, I bend dog-ears in the pages of every book I read, and I can't compose a letter to save my life!"

Merry nodded sagely. "You’ll steal all the blankets, too."

"Yes, exactly!" Pippin cried, while Merry's dry jest went completely over his head. "I mean, really, what on earth was I thinking? I'll drive her mad in a month and end up sleeping in the goat-shed-"

Merry bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud. "Pippin-"

"And the children!" Pippin's expression went from simple fear to stark horror in a matter of seconds, and he gripped Merry's shoulders with sweaty hands. "Great Gerontius! We'll have children, Merry!"

"Most hobbits do," Merry said. He took Pippin's hands and held them. "Dear Pip, breathe a little slower and listen to me. You love Diamond very much, don't you?"

"Oh yes." There was no timidity there.

"And she loves you."

A long exhale, a much calmer sound. "Yes."

"Then everything will be all right," Merry said, and it was true. When a hobbit gave his or her heart away it was given away entirely, and it was the rare hobbit marriage that didn't last to the grave. And perhaps even farther than that. "Just look at all you've done, following Frodo and Sam and me halfway across the world into dreadful danger, and facing down Dark Riders, and wargs, and Orcs, all before you had even come of age. You took down a troll all on your own and nearly got yourself squashed flat, then hopped out of bed and rode home to save the Shire." Merry remembered well Pippin's sword point at the throat of the Ruffian who had dared to call the Ringbearer little cock-a-whoop. He had been so proud of him then. "If you can do all that, marriage to a beautiful lass who loves you to bits should be nothing at all. You're going to be a wonderful husband and father, Pip, and you're going to have a long, happy life together."

"How do you know?" Pippin whispered.

"Because I know you," Merry said. "You're a fine, upstanding hobbit and Took."

Pippin smiled. "But not a fool of a Took?"

Pippin had been many things: Cousin, soldier, friend and brother, and he had occasionally acted thoughtlessly, but he had never, never been a fool. "No,” Merry said. “Unless you continue to sit here and dither, in which case you'll soon be beaten about the head and shoulders by a horde of outraged soon-to-be in-laws, accompanied by a rear guard of mothers, gammers, sisters, and aunties armed with sun-shades, and I shall wash my hands of you."

"Heavens, I'd rather face the Orcs," Pippin laughed, then took a deep breath. "Well, I think I'm ready now. How do I look?"

Merry patted down Pippin's hair, which had gone a bit wild with his running his hands through it, and brushed an imaginary speck off his shoulder. "Very fine. Diamond will certainly think so."

"Then let's not keep her waiting any longer." He and Merry stood up, and quite unexpectedly, he put his arms around him. "Thank you, Merry."

Merry felt very moved. "It was nothing. Just had to warm up your cold feet, that's all."

Pippin pulled away and they moved toward the door together, then Pippin paused. "Ah...you won't tell anyone about this, will you? I wouldn't want this written down in a book or something." The last part was rather pointed: Merry was considering writing a book on herb lore, but he might decide to slip in some amusing anecdotes between chapters. Pippin didn't want his cold feet to go down in history, immortalized on some Buckland library shelf.

Merry gave Pippin's shoulder a comradely slap. "Oh, no need to worry yourself about that..."

It was a lovely wedding, and a truly enormous party that hobbits in the Tookland talked about for years to come, and if anyone wondered why the groom's Buckland cousin got the first dance with the new bride, their curiosity was never satisfied. Pippin wouldn’t enlighten them, and Merry never said a word.

Tbc...