Disclaimer: None of these characters belong to me, they belong to the great imagination of JRR Tolkien.

A/N: In this story, Merry is eight (nearly nine), and Pippin will be turning a year old--and in spite of his young age, I still included the little Pip--he's my guy. This is a sequel to Absence of Reasoning, and Merry is not so willing to share what's on his mind this time. Merry's future is looking pretty grim unless Paladin can get to his nephew's heart in time.

I like writing about Merry and Pippin (& his sisters) as children because I truly believe what old Art said long ago--that kids say the darndest things, but I also think they DO the darndest things, too, which makes for an interesting story....

When Your Heart is Breaking

Chapter One - Cracked

"Throw it!" Merimas called to Merry, running on the soft grass towards the goal of someone's cloak lying on the ground, holding out his arms, "Throw it!"

Eight-year-old Merry hesitated just a little too long and was tackled by his older cousin, Berilac and another lad.

"How many does that make us, Dorry?" Berilac triumphantly tossed the scruffy looking toy into the air towards his friend.

"Seven!" The other lad laughed and caught the tattered old stuffed toy they were using to play the tackle-game.

"Merry!" Merimas came running back from the far end of the field, out of breath, "Why didn't you throw it?"

Merry was busy brushing the dirt and dry grass from his good trousers and jacket. "I was waiting for you to get closer to the goal."

"You're always trying for things too big for you!" Berilac teased him.

"I could've thrown it that far if I wanted to!" Merry replied.

"It would be nice if you would just throw it!" Merimas sat on the ground next to the other lads.

"Do you lads want to play again tomorrow after our lessons?" Dorry asked.

"I'll play if Merimas finds another player." Berilac looked straight at Merry.

Merry looked back at him. "Isn't four enough?"

"Four is plenty." Berilac replied. "I just want to play with someone who's a little older--and not afraid to throw."

"I'm not afraid to throw, Berilac! Want to see?" Merry scooped up the toy and threw it hard at Berilac.

"Stop it!" Merimas got up.

Dorry started to leave, "I'm going home! I'm not getting punished over another fight!"

The older and much bigger Berilac had Merry on the ground in two seconds; both lads tumbling and wrestling in the dirt. Merimas tried to pull Berilac off of Merry, but was shoved back. He tried again, this time to grab Merry out from under Berilac. In the midst of it all, all three boys felt a splash of cold water upon them. It was cousin, Marmadas. "On your feet, lads, and march!"

"But I wasn't fighting, Dad!" Merimas pleaded with his father.

Both Berilac and Merry stood to their feet dripping wet. Merry had a bloody nose, but his cousin wasn't entirely clean himself as blood trickled from his swollen lip.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The three young boys were all sitting in wooden chairs lined up outside of the Master's Study. They watched as all three fathers were called into the office. Merry knew he was in serious trouble by the way Saradoc eyed him before he entered the room.

"So you do have a father!" Berilac whispered, cackling at his cruel jest.

Merry narrowed his eyes at his cousin, "Stop it!"

"Why are you going to cry?" Berilac mocked. "Anyone living here would've thought you a bastard child!"

Blinding anger surfaced in Merry. He felt nothing else Berilac said could've been closer to the truth. But his father was too big for him to fight, so he fought Berilac.

Once more the boys were locked in battle; right under the very noses of their fathers. At the sound of the clatter, the adults came running out into the hallway. Merimac pulled Berilac off of his nephew while Saradoc pulled up on Merry and right away began tanning his backside. But Merry's anger wasn't spent yet. He started thrashing and screaming until he was out of his father's grasp and fell to the floor, then in his anger, he began beating his fists against wall. It took two adult hobbits to finally hold him down, still screaming and crying.

Some time later, Merry lay on his bed listening to the buzz in his ears grow louder as his eyelids became heavier and heavier. The Healer, Tolfred Goldleaf made him drink something that tasted vile, and now he was falling asleep. Even as he closed his heavy eyelids, he could hear voices swirling around him as if in a dream world, "Whatever would posses a child to behave in such a manner?" One dream-Voice said. "And it's been getting worse these past few weeks." Another Voice added. Merry wanted to stay and hear the rest of the conversation, but his consciousness wouldn't allow it, and so he heard no more.

Back in reality, Merimac shook a finger at the now sleeping boy, "Your son has cracked--that's what's happened! He's attacked Berilac twice today!"

"I beg your pardon!" Esmeralda stood up from her bedside chair. "My son is not cracked, mad, or...or loony! Everyday I see it, Merimac, but I haven't said anything because Merry has asked me not to. But I've witnessed Berilac taunting Merry with hurting, cruel words. And whenever he tries to stand up for himself, Berilac knocks him down because he's over two years older than Merry, and also much bigger." Then she looked at her own husband, "And you! You don't even bother to reason with him; you simply pick him up and start beating him. For what? He's angry, Sara! He's angry at you, and he's angry at Berilac--he's angry for having to live with all of this. And you both know of what I speak!"

Unconvinced his own son had anything to do with his nephew's outburst, Merimac turned on his heels and left the room, "Good day, Sara."

Esmeralda looked at her husband. "And what have you to say? Good day, Essie?"

"Let's not fight, Essie." Saradoc answered. He pulled up a chair next to hers and sat down and waited for her to do the same. "I could see him from the window in my study. Merry clearly started the fight--I watched it happen."

Esmeralda knew her son better than that. "But Berilac must have been saying malicious things to him again, Sara. Our child just doesn't go around starting fights." She next took the outlandish approach. "What happened? What did Merry do? Push him? Did an eight-year-old lad wrestle an eleven-year-old to the ground to sit on him?"

"He, um," Saradoc tried hard to keep from grinning, "he hit him with a toy filled with feathers." Then he grew serious again. "But regardless, Merry started the first fight, and possibly the second. He needs to learn to ignore Berilac. Goodness knows that nephew of mine has tested me enough times." He looked at his wife, "What else was I supposed to do, Essie?"

His wife sighed, "He needs a rest, Sara. He needs a rest from all of this." She looked at him, "That's what the healer said. Otherwise, next time, our son could very well crack."