Wistful
Tiamat's Child
Pippin doesn't think he's ever heard rain sound so lonely as it does now, slipping down the roof of Tom and Goldberry's house and leaping off the ground and path with a shimmering whisper. The sound is melancholy somehow, as if the rain is saying goodbye to everything it's always known and held dear. Pippin shivers, suddenly afraid of that helpless, blind fall into what might be, on and on in dim grey nothing. Perhaps he'll be alone.
That's a thought he's never thought before. He's never been alone, there's always been someone with him, and it's hard to be lonely when everyone knows you as part of one entity. MerryandPippin. Being half of one keeps you safe and close.
But he was alone inside Old Man Willow. He didn't like the way it felt at all.
Pippin slips out from beneath his bedclothes and pads the few feet to Merry's bed. He doesn't say anything, just stands there in the dark, watching Merry as best he can. He's very, very quiet and still, a talent most of his family refuses to believe he possesses. He hopes Merry will wake up and invite him to crawl in, but he won't ask. It isn't as nice when he asks.
Sure enough, Merry rolls onto his side and raises himself up on his elbow. Pippin can dimly see him shake his head. "I know you're up, Pip." Pippin grins, but he doesn't move or speak. Merry sighs. "All right," he whispers, "You can sleep with me. Crawl in."
Pippin nearly dives under the covers Merry holds open for him. He happily wriggles about in the warmth, finding just the right spot to be, tucked in next to Merry. Merry wraps an arm around him and pulls him close, holding him still.
"You're just as squirmy as you were as a babe." Merry teases softly.
"Am not." Pippin protests, though not very convincingly, as he says it while trying to snuggle just a little bit closer to Merry. Merry chuckles into his curls.
"Have a nightmare?" he asks.
"No." Pippin starts to shake his head before remembering that if he does he'll bump Merry's nose. "I just needed to be sure of you."
Pippin can feel the kiss that Merry presses onto the top of his head in answer to that. It fills him up with a lazy, comfortable warmth, like the sensation of hot chocolate on a cold, wet evening. Merry's arms holding him tight keep him from falling away on his own. He's not alone, and he never will be.
The rain's still singing sadly on the roof, but Pippin doesn't feel lonely anymore.