Author: Amaryllis Sweetwater
Title: I Shall Carry a Light For Thee, Always, My Love!
Overall Rating: R
Chapter Ratings: One, two, and three are G. Four is R.
Summary: Co-authored story with Rachel Stonebreaker (check out her version on ff.net, the prologue and ending are different). This is a modification on the traditional tale of Jack and the Lantern, the origin of our modern day Jack O Lanterns.
Author's Notes: Rach tells this story while carving neeps and serving ale and mead at the Ren Faire gig she does. The bit about "neeps" being turnips AND the original Jack-o-lanterns is true. You should hear her when she puts on the accent. It's a scream! Sort of like Billy Boyd doing Shakespeare. I can't understand a word of it. Mead (the drink) sounds like maid (the lass). Here's a quote of Shakespeare she uses to insult people, "Thou hast not the spleen God knock'd a weasel!" Collaborating, as I'm sure Kiyomi and Ezra have discovered, is an interesting adventure. Rach is verbose, rabid about antiquated speech patterns, and terrible at spelling and grammar. I, on the other hand, am perfect. {THAT is NOT true, thou weasel! You are staccato. Blunt. And your propensity for X Rated hobbit unification scares me! ~ Rach} Ah, Rach, that's why you love me!!! Oh, yes, and I prefer "concise" over "blunt". Blunt sounds like an instrument of destruction.

Oh, and Pip's not a baby in this. That would be child molestation on Merry's part. He's 27.


Characters: Slash pairing between Merry and Pippin (Rach's version is (of course) a good old fashioned no sex hobbit story [hey, I try to corrupt her but she resists])
Genre: Romance, drama
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. I make no money from my writing about them. I'm not crazy, I just love hobbits.

********************** Chapter 1 ***************************************************

"Pippin" the distant call of a voice broke through the inky blackness. "Pip!" Oh, someone was searching for him. But he shouldn't move. If he did, the ogre would see and grab him... "PIPPIN!" It was Merry. He would help. He'd make the ogre run away! Moving very, very quietly so the ogre wouldn't spy his carefully chosen hiding place, Pippin tried to move towards the faint flickering light he knew was Merry with a lantern coming to rescue him. But the ogre spied him and bolted out to grab his arm!

"Ai!!!!!" Pippin flailed and scratched and swung about trying to snatch his arm from the tightening, terrifying hideously clawed hand. He wrenched free and fell. He was falling off the top of the cliff. The cliff where he'd managed to secret himself away from the monster wishing to keep him forever in the dark. Falling off the cliff down to his death. Oh, Merry, you were too late... I didn't see your light soon enough.

With a sickening thud, Pippin struck the ground.

Merry leaned over him holding the candle high. He shook Pippin's shoulder. "Hey, you! Wake up! You scared yourself so badly you fell out of bed."

"Oi! Merry! You came!" Gasping in a huge lung full of air, Pippin reached up and clutched Merry's nightshirt in a grasp so tight Merry thought if he pulled away, the thick linen just might rend. It didn't. It held together and Merry lifted Pippin off the floor by the strength of his one free arm and Pippin's death grip on his shirt front.

"What's this all about, eh? Nightmares at your age?!" He steadied the badly shaking hobbit with his one free arm while he reached back to the night stand to set down the candle. "Here now. Steady on, lad."

"Everything all right in here?" Frodo asked stepping in to the room his cousins shared on cold blustery nights when they both visited. He was still pulling on a heavy robe as he walked over to throw a log on the barely visible coals. "Merry, you let the fire die out."

"Sorry, cousin. I'm not used to managing my own fires. I guess I've gotten lazy having servants to do it for me." Merry had helped Pippin back into bed and went to assist Frodo with the fire. Pippin didn't lay down but sat where Merry placed him, against the pillows at the headboard, blankets on the floor. Merry's own bed, on the opposite wall was in, albeit a tad less but still obvious state of disarray. Pippin's nightmare had startled him awake and he'd tumbled out of his own bed thinking the smial was on fire or some other disaster.

"I'll get this going again. See to Pip. He's probably freezing. YOUR hands are like icicles, you can imagine his..."

"Right." Merry looked to Pippin and then to Frodo. He was torn between doing his proper duty of keeping the fire going and doing as his cousin asked. It was stupid of him to let the fire burn so low. He hadn't banked it. The back log had burned through and was down to ashes. He was smart enough to know a well banked back log would keep the room warm through an entire night. He shared this room with Pippin so only one extra fire need be tended. And everyone knew if left to his own devices, Pippin would probably be frozen dead by morning as he didn't have the sense of a cabbage when it came to managing things like a fire. He truly was the youngest child of a spoiled brood. But Merry had been ever so sleepy when they retired and the brandy he and Frodo had shared obviously knocked any sense HE had clean out of his head. Frodo's raised eyebrows were enough to send him back to Pippin's bedside, picking up the blankets as he went.

Frodo ran his hands through his already tousled hair. Looking back over his shoulder as he walked out the door, he admonished Merry. "Keep him warm. I'll make some tea for you both."

Pippin still sat at the headboard, though he was shaking like an old dry maple leaf, rattling in the February wind. And it was only October. November. It must be the first by now, the moon had set and the Hunter was below the horizon. Fearing the wrath of Frodo, though the eldest cousin had never given him any reason to fear so, it was really more a fear of failing a duty again, Merry climbed up into bed with the blankets in tow. He wrapped one about himself and one about his cousin. Seeing this wasn't having any effect on diminishing Pippin's shaking, Merry pulled off both blankets and got back up off the bed. He put them into their proper place, forcing Pippin to lay down and then carefully tucking him in before retrieving the heavy feather coverlet and settling that over him as well. Merry's intent as he made his way over to his bed was to retrieve his own coverlet and then return to sit with Pippin until Frodo returned with tea. A pitiful whimper stopped him in his tracks. He spun about looking for the miserable dog that must have made that heart wrenching noise.

"Please... Merry, don't leave me..." Pippin's whisper was almost lost in the crackling of the fire as the new log caught and flared up.

What? That noise was Pippin?!?! Oh, just what had frightened him so badly to cause that distressing sound? "I won't, cousin. I won't." He hurriedly whipped the coverlet off his bed and scurried across the cold floor. Bounding up onto the bed, he sat down next to Pippin who was struggling to sit up. Perched on top of Pippin's covers, pulling his own coverlet over them both, Merry pinned Pippin in place, half sitting, half laying. His attempts at chaffing Pippin's coldness away by rubbing his hands up and down over the younger hobbit's arms proved ineffectual. Mostly he was annoying himself. He wasn't doing a very good job of this latest task. Poor Pippin was looking as miserable as that bird he'd pulled out of the rain barrel years ago one early spring. It died despite his efforts at reviving it. It had lain in his palm watching him, quietly, breathing out its last breath as Merry vainly tried to dry it off and warm it up.

Merry's eyes flew open and his stomach sank. No! Not his Pippin! Merry would hang himself if he failed here! If he had to go to the end of the world to find a way to keep Pippin safe and warm, he would! Pippin was looking at him just like the bird had looked. Sad, resigned. Merry had to DO something. Now. Though the thought was irrational. Pippin was in no danger of dying tonight. He was just cold and frightened. Still, the nagging twisted feeling in Merry's stomach would not ease.

He wormed his way under Pippin's covers, his own coverlet fallen, forgotten, to the floor. Wrapping his arms about his charge, he felt Pip's tension release just a fraction. Pippin curled up into the embrace. Merry absently cataloged the minute thrill this sent through his frame giving him goose flesh. He'd muse over it later, when he had more time to reflect Right now his sole function was to warm up his friend and make him happy.

"Why the nightmare, cousin? Something you ate? Tell me of it." Merry breathed this onto to the top of Pippin's head, feeling the soft curls brush against his lips as he asked what he realized was an inane question. Pippin never talked about his nightmares. He'd grown up the only son in a household of sisters and was expected to be the brave, big, strong lad. Heir to the Thain. Some day destined to be The Took. Pippin was anything but brave and strong. Silly and foolish. Good natured and absent minded. These were traits of the youngest Took. Still, Merry could hope. Other Tooks eventually got some sense and fortitude knocked into them. But not tonight. Tonight, Pippin was frightened. Maybe Pip would unburden himself and then be able to rest. They'd both feel better if they got back to sleep soon.

Frodo came in with the tea. He carried a tray with the tea pot wrapped in a quilted cozy. Three mugs and some honey and cream balanced it out. Setting down the tea on the nightstand, he picked up Merry's discarded coverlet and pulled up a chair. Frodo was grace in motion. Merry marveled at how he could wrap himself up, sit down and still manage to pour three cups of tea, all with honey (one heavy) and two with cream. And still remain seated and wrapped with the tea unspilt. Merry had no such grace. He had to struggle to sit up, dragging Pippin with him in order to take the proffered cup and still keep them both covered. Pippin had stopped shaking at least and his feet weren't blocks of ice anymore.

"Well, sweet, did you see the ogre again tonight?" Frodo reached across to brush the curls from Pippin's face.

Pippin settled himself further into Merry's side and took the cup of tea Frodo held out to him. He remained silent as he tasted the tea and held it out wordlessly for more honey.

Merry wondered at this seeming knowledge his eldest cousin had of the mystery dreams plaguing Pippin. The slight twinge set off in his chest by Frodo's informed words faded as Pippin remained quite.

Frodo stirred the honey into the cooling tea. "Any more honey and I'll just bring you a comb to eat and we'll skip the hot water and leaves!" Frodo's joke brought a small smile to Pippin's face.

"Was it dark again and you were alone?" Frodo asked quietly, placing the honey back on the tray.

Pippin's nod caused a most unpleasant reaction in Merry. The twinge he'd felt wilt earlier with Pippin's initial silence suddenly flared white hot. How could Frodo know about Pippin's nightmares?!?! Pippin told no one. NO ONE. Merry tensed as he realized that, no, Pippin had not told HIM. Why should this bother him just now?

"Some day you'll figure out why you keep having this dream, sweetling. But for tonight, you're not to worry. You have Merry here. He's big and strong. He won't leave you alone to do battle with that boogie. He can keep the ogre away. Can't you Merry?" Frodo stood up settling the second coverlet over the two lads still sitting up in the shared bed.

Another task. This one he was sure he could complete and with very little effort. He'd already sworn to keep his little one safe tonight. Pippin had settled in and had warmed up. Merry'd sleep right there in the same bed if it meant Pippin getting some rest. "Of course I can, Frodo. You can trust me on this one."

"I know I can. So can Pip. I'm off to my bed now. At least this gave me an excuse to get a hot cup of tea and to check my fire." Frodo laughed good naturedly as he ruffled Merry's hair before taking his own cup of tea and trundling back to his room.

A pang of guilt shot through Merry just at that moment. How could he have been jealous that Frodo knew the nature of Pippin's infrequent but frightening nightmares? Frodo was a calming presence they all opened to and needed in times of trouble. Even he'd crawled into Frodo's lap one night after a bad scare when he was but 6 and they were both still living at Brandyhall. Frodo had rocked him and sang to him, finally telling him stories until Merry had fallen back to sleep.

Taking Pippin's now empty cup and setting it down with his own, he pulled the young one in close while wiggling them both under the coverlets. A story. That's what he'd do. He'd tell Pippin a story to help him sleep. One that, in view of Merry's new knowledge of Pippin's fears of an ogre and the dark and the fear of being alone, would help chase away the boogies and evils. The one about the demon, the Great Darkness, and the hero.

"Do you remember the story Uncle Bilbo told us that All Hallows Eve so very long ago? I was 18. It was the year before he left for Rivendell. A year before Frodo came of age. Do you remember? You were so young. Just 10. You said you wouldn't have nightmares... It was a grand story about a hero..."