And She

by StarWolf

1/5/2004

Title: And She

Author: StarWolf (elendraug@yahoo.com)

Fandom: Lord of the Rings

Pairing(s): implied Merry/Pippin, implied Merry/Estella

Rating: R

Warnings: slash, het, implied sex

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or its characters. They're the property of J.R.R. Tolkien and his heirs. I write this because I want to, and I'm not making any money. I'll give you a cookie if you don't sue me...

Summary: His love for her isn't.

Authoress' Notes: Oh, the things I come up with during church. Happy belated birthday to Tolkien, I guess, though he'd probably kill me for writing this.

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Emerald eyes, sparkling in the afternoon as they romp through endless fields of jade grass, reveal exactly what shade of affection and devotion their owner feels for the other, as he tackles his best friend to the welcoming ground, laughing madly. Everything is green and growing and great, and it's the most inviting gaze he's ever felt aimed towards him.

"Mmmm, yes, do that again..."

"..."

And she can never compare to his beauty.

Amber hair, glinting in the sunlight as ten fingers thread their way through the tawny strands, reminds him just how much he loves the radiant boy it's attached to, and he brushes his cousin's locks with his gentle fingertips, smiling as the summer wind works its way through the haphazard curls. Everything is golden and gilded and good, and it's the most gorgeous sight ever to grace his vision.

"Oh, yes, oh please, oh yes, yes, yes..."

"....."

And she will never be anything more than a guilty release.

Ruby lips, glistening with saliva, open and close of their own accord as the two pull apart, panting and gasping for air, yet desperate to continue, even if it means risking the highly improbable chance of asphyxiating. Everything is wet and warm and wonderful, and it's just enough to keep him from fainting.

"Faster, harder! Please, pleeeease, yesyesyes!"


"....uhhn..."

And she will never replace what they had.

Marble skin, shining with sweat, shivers as he trails his hands across the pale, smooth, and soft planes of neck and chest and stomach and hip and ohmygodMerrythat'sitrightthere. Everything is white hot and overwhelming and perfect, and it's more than enough to make him cry out.

"GodohgodohgodohMerryIloveyouohGODohYES!"

"Ai, Elbereth...!"

And she will never understand.

Quiet words, whispered to each other and to the darkness as they come down from emotional high, can only barely begin to fill the blissful silence of the room. Everything is black and beautiful and brilliant, and he's all he could ever wish for.

She screams "Merry," and he screams "Pippin."

And she is not him.