| Been awhile, no? |
[21 Sep 2004|05:25pm] |
Pippin wandered into Merry's room, a huge blanket wrapped around him, and dragging on the ground. He pulled his ten-year-old self up on the sofa next to his cousin, and cuddled very, very close.
"Mer? Tell me a story?"
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| Duty |
[21 Feb 2004|09:44pm] |
Inspired by foreshadowing in the lastest chapter of THoU. Tell me if you don't like the way I've handled our idea. And yes, I know - more angst... Sorry! I was just happy to be writing.
Duty had always been part of who Merry was. Riding home to Crickhollow from a visit to Buckland to care for his aging father, he knew this more than ever. It had been a hard decision, and not one he had come to quickly. A part of him had always known that one day he'd have to decide, one way or the other. But looking at Pippin he had always pushed those thoughts aside. Later. Later would be time enough.
Only now, later seemed to have arrived. They had returned from the War, and for some time everything had been wonderful. Living together, laughing together, loving together - it had been as if what they had gone through had brought them closer, strengthened the bond between them. Even in the dark periods, when Merry's arm grew cold and his mind bleak, or when Pippin woke screaming from dreams of fire and death, his every bone aching, it had seemed as if they'd always have each other.
But now Merry knew that they had been living on stolen time. He did not want this, did not want to look Pippin in the eyes and tell him, but he knew that he had to. He would be Master of Buckland all too soon, and that meant taking on more responsibilities from his father. Duty had always been part of who Merry was. Even if he did not know how to live with the consequences of this one.
It was the first time Merry did not rejoice when he approached Crickhollow and heard Pippin's singing from inside. He had been hoping to have some more time, time to find words that would not break Pippin's heart - and his own. An impossible hope in the first place. But now he had to go in, face the love of his life, and tell him that he would start looking for a wife. A wife to give Buckland an heir.
Duty had always been part of who Merry was. And he could only hope that Pippin would understand this. With a dejected sigh Merry opened to door.
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| Something a bit lighter: First Kiss |
[27 Jan 2004|04:26pm] |
It was Merry's five and twentieth birthday, and there was a big party in Buckland Hall. Merry's head hurt from being kissed and coddled by countless aunts, uncles, cousins and other relatives as well as a score of friends or people that had been invited by friends. Also everyone seemed to insist on toasting to Merry's health and future, most of the time with his father's best ale, so that Merry felt quite tipsy already, although it was only early evening and the party would go on until well into the night.
It was all just a bit too much for Merry, and he escaped into his father's study, falling into the big seat in front of the fireplace. He had to catch his breath before being able to face the other again.
Therefore it was with some annoyance that he heard the door being softly opened and he sunk down lower, hoping not to be seen. But his vexation vanished as a timid voice came from behind him: "Merry? Are you alright?"
How Pippin always knew where Merry was, Merry did not know. But then, it seemed to work both ways. Merry smiled widely, almost despite himself - Pippin had that effect on him. "Yes, Impling, I'm alright." He turned and peeked over the seat at his cousin. "Just a bit tired, and maybe a little bit drunk. What can I do for you?"
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| More Angst! And movie-verse. So can delete if you don't care for it. |
[11 Jan 2004|12:10pm] |
Merry was crying. Merry was crying. Pippin could hear the sobs from where he lay, staring up through the leaves. He'd made Merry cry. Forced him away, kept him from helping. And made him cry.
Yet another thing to add to the multitude of things that were his fault, Pippin decided numbly. He couldn't cry, himself. Maybe it was good that Merry still could. Pippin had cried after Moria. After Gandalf had fallen. Fallen because of him. Because of his foolishness. Because of that stupid, mucking well.
He'd failed him. Failed the wizard. The person who'd insisted he be allowed to come along on the quest. Who'd believed in him. Pippin's treacherously dry eyes burned, and he shuddered.
The sounds of elvish singing echoed all around him. A lament for Gandalf, Legolas had said. And in his mind, the words 'my fault, my fault' repeated themselves, over and over and over.
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| Introducing: the Frodo angst subplot |
[04 Jan 2004|01:44pm] |
Pippin was not Merry's first love.
Before him, when he was still a kid and Merry had been in his tweens already, Merry had thought that he was in love with Frodo. Looking back at it, he was not sure how he could ever have mistaken his infatuation with his older and more experienced cousin for true love. But then, only Pippin had shown Merry what true love was, so a certain confusion about terms was understandable in someone as young as Merry had been. Or so Merry thought.
If only Pippin could see it that way, too.
Merry had definitely not meant to hurt him, when he answered his curious question "Have you been in love before?" with yes. After all, he had never lied to Pippin, even if that got them both into trouble more than once, like when an 11-year-old Pip went to his dad and made some very precocious comments about the bulls and cows on the field.
So he had said yes, and been taken aback at the look of shock and hurt on Pippin's face. He tried to explain about Frodo, and that it had been so different, so much less than what he shared with Pippin, and Pippin had appeared to understand. But it stil hovered between them at times, and Merry was not sure what to do about it.
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| The House of Healing |
[29 Dec 2003|02:19pm] |
When Merry woke up his whole body was hurting, but his right hand was strangely numb. He met Aragorn's tired and relieved gaze, but his eyes quickly glided further, searching for the one face he needed to see to believe that he was truly still alive.
When he finally found Pippin, pale and worried at the side of his bed, half-hidden behind all the big people, Merry felt his heart begin to beat again.
He managed a weak smile and held out his left hand. Pippin was by his side in a split-second, kneeling on the high bed, eyes shining bright with tears. Merry wanted to tell him so many things, things he'd been thinking about telling him during their time apart, but all he managed was: "You're here, Pip... I thought it was a dream. But you're here. And so am I."
Feeling the painful grip of Pippin's strong finger around his hand, Merry smiled. He was alive, and Pippin was there.
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| Pre-quest, post beginning of relationship (because it's more fun that way, right?) |
[27 Dec 2003|12:10pm] |
The day was absolutely beautiful. The summer sun high, but not too hot. Sky clear and blue, not even a wisp of cloud. The Brandywine glistened, cool and peaceful. An absolutely perfect day to go exploring near the forest, to go swimming in the river, to take a picnic on a hike, to steal kisses in a woodland clearing, to be outside and alive and free. A perfect day to be in Buckland with Merry. Days like this were to be taken advantage of. Pippin had woken with plans.
Which, of course, meant that Merry said he wanted to read. And Pippin had agreed, pouting a bit, but willing to at least try to do what Merry thought was fun. But he hadn't expected it to take this long. He drummed his heels against the floor, slumped in his chair, and frowned over the edge of the book. This wasn't what he'd had in mind when he'd gotten up this morning. "Merry?" he tried again. "Have you finished that chapter yet?"
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