Title: Entwined
Author: aces
Rating: G
Summary: Merry and Pippin, after the troll.
Warnings: Um, slightly angsty?
Notes: Veers between book and movie canon (and was written before I saw the movie version of ROTK, so a bit more book than movie). I know it's been done a million times before, but I had to get it out of my system, y'know?
Entwined
"Merry!"
You call to him and he does not answer. You whisper his name, terrified your captors will take notice of you and stop you somehow from your attempts to communicate—gag you, hit you, or worse. But you cannot stop yourself.
"Merry!"
He is not answering. His eyes are shut, his head bounces against his captor's back, and you glimpse that spot of red on his forehead once more with ever-rising fear. But what can you do? You cannot go to him, tickle him awake if you are feeling cheeky, or simply rub at his back if you only want him awake and near, so you can tell him a story or ask him a question. You can't do anything.
"MERRY!"
You scream for him and he does not answer. But you refuse to cry, because that will not help and only get you jeered at. And you refuse to cry, because you are older than that, and you have to be stronger than that. You have to. And you're grateful that Merry's there, even if he's not all there, because you're not alone, and you'd rather have an unconscious Merry than anyone else with you at this moment.
"Merry…"
You cry out for him.
And finally he answers.
***
"MERRY!"
He is there immediately, a hand on Pippin's back rubbing in soothing concentric circles, another hand on Pippin's brow or holding Pippin's hand or in Pippin's hair, anywhere where touch will do what voice with reasoning words cannot.
"Merry!"
He has given up on reason and words by this point, because they haven't worked in any of the previous nights and days. But the touch, the feel of someone else, seems still to have some effect. He hopes Pippin won't also eventually become immune to this.
"Merry!"
Sometimes it takes longer than others, and Pippin keeps tossing and crying out for his cousin, and these are the times when he most wants to encompass Pippin whole, envelop the younger hobbit in a hug that will make all the fear seep away and never dare come back. But that is not possible, so he continues with one hand rubbing concentric soothing circles on Pippin's back, a specific spot he knows is not bruised or bloody.
"Merry!"
He doesn't know what these dreams consist of. Pippin doesn't remember anything when he wakes, and he never says anything bar his cousin's name when asleep. He doesn't know what Pippin is trapped into remembering every time he closes his eyes for longer than a half-hour.
"Merry!"
Is he calling out in desperate fear because his cousin cannot answer, unconscious in the grip of an orc? Is he calling out in the hopes that his cousin will join him in Minas Tirith and not remain behind with King Theoden? Is he calling out in panic for someone to help him, protect him, as a troll comes inexorably toward him?
"Merry!"
He is trying not to become desperate himself as Pippin does not still. He will not rub harder and cause his cousin to wake in confused pain. He will not clutch too tight those curls or squeeze too hard that uninjured hand. He will not dare make anything worse for the younger hobbit.
"Merry…"
Pippin is stilling at last, the name a sigh rather than a scream, a shout, a howl. He continues holding onto Pippin for a while longer, to make sure, and because each day he seems to become more unwilling to let go of his cousin. Those curls are too precious, that hand too vital, to waste time away from them.
"Merry?"
"Hush, Pippin," he whispers, voice scratchy from disuse, but Pippin obediently responds. He finally lets go, watching for a moment his young cousin sleep, and then returns to his own small cot. He would sleep with Pippin but for fear of turning over and holding onto Pippin too tightly, aggravating injuries that needed only healing now.
"MERRY!"
He lies down to return to his interrupted sleep, but his sleep is as unrestful and restless as Pippin's, because every time he closes his eyes all he can hear is that desperate cry calling to him. And no matter how many times he hears it, still his heart clenches each time in fear that someday he won't be there to answer. And deep in his heart he fears that already he has failed his cousin by not being there before to answer.