Name: Mountains
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Fellowship
Plot: While traveling away from Moria after Gandalfs' fall, Merry gets ill. This is an Alternate Universe story.
Disclaimer: Nope…do not own them, not a one in this story, Tolkien does
Merry had never seen a mountain before, save in his imagination, but what he had imagined was nothing like the reality. As he and his eight other companions trekked on, Merry wondered what would lay ahead, what dangers they might see, and what the outcome of everything would be like – he could not answer any of those questions, none of the beings he was with could. As he went, he did not watch where he was going and so, suddenly, he ran into something, well someone – Gandalf. Merry heard a slight chuckle come from the wizard and sighed slightly in relief – Gandalf was not mad at him, which was always a good thing. The last time Gandalf had got angry with him was when he and Pippin had stolen the finale of the fireworks. "Look up, lad," he whispered to Merry.
Merry looked slowly up and a gasp came from his lips. He could not believe what he saw. They were majestic, towering, and awe-inspiring in fact – never had he seen such a thing.
"Mountains…" Merry whispered.
"Shh…lad," Aragorn whispered, wiping the hobbits fevered brow off. Pippin hovered behind Aragorn, worry in his young face.
"Is he all right, Aragorn?" he asked.
"He will be, Pippin – do not worry," Aragorn reassured the hobbit, even though he did not know himself what would happen.
"I hope so," Pippin whispered, sitting down by Merrys' head. He gently stroked his cousins' hair softly.
"Aragorn, what caused Merry to get so ill so suddenly?" Frodo asked, crouching beside Aragorn.
The ranger only nodded. "I am not sure," he replied, standing and wandering a little way away. "I have only seen this happen a few times in my life time."
Frodo followed Aragorn and asked, "I am afraid to ask what the outcome was for those beings."
Aragorn turned to the Ring-bearer – worry in his dark eyes. "They all passed beyond my reach, however they were weak. Merry is a strong hobbit and a fighter." He replied, "We shall stay here for the night. It is safe here – at least for now. Then, we shall go on, if he is better."
"If Merry is the same as he is now, then what?" Frodo asked his brow furrowing.
"Then we talk it over with everyone and see what they think and do as we must," Aragorn replied nodding, "Now, Frodo, you should go get some rest. I think that Master Merry will have plenty of people watching over him."
"All right," Frodo said reluctantly, "But, please, Aragorn wake me if there are any changes."
Aragorn nodded his head slightly and Frodo went a little a ways away where Sam was fixing their places to sleep while keeping an eye on Merry.
As the night wore on, most of the fellowship drifted off to sleep – the last was Aragorn –
all except Pippin, who just sat by his cousins head, whispering soft words of comfort to his cousin and short stories of their youth.
"Do you remember the first time you took me to Farmer Maggots gardens? How terrified I was, but you told me it will be just fine and that you would protect me and you did. You did," Pippin whispered softly to Merry.
"I do," the other hobbit whispered, making Pippin jump slightly.
"Merry?" Pippin asked.
Pippin," Merry replied opening his eyes and looking at his cousin. The ill hobbit smiled weakly at Peregrin, "Pippin, you have grown so much. You are a big lad now."
"Merry?" Pippin asked, terrified at his words.
"Let me go, Pip, please," Merry whispered in a breathy voice.
"I-I can't," Pippin whispered. Tears came into his eyes, "You will get better – Aragorn will make sure…so will I," the hobbit sobbed.
"Shh," Merry whipsered, "Don' cry, Pippin. It will be all right. Just – let me go. You will be all right."
"No I won't. I can't live without you," Pippin whispered.
"Yes you can - if you have to you can," Merry whispered, "You wouldn't…" Merry winced and pain clouded his face for a moment. "Want me to be in pain, would you?"
Slowly, Pippin nodded. "No," Pippin whispered, "I love you, Merry."
"I love you too," Merry whispered. His eyes closed and his breathing stopped. A look of peace came over his features.
Pippins' breathing came in hitches. Pippin bent and kissed Merrys forehead. Tears tricked down Pippins cheeks and onto Merry, who did not stir. Carefully, the heartbroken hobbit smoothed the curls of his cousin and stood with shaky legs.
The hobbit went over to the sleeping form of Aragorn and touched him on the shoulder gently. Aragorn woke with a start and sat straight up. The ranger looked around and then his eyes settled on Pippin and he knew what happened as soon as he looked upon him.
"Oh Pippin," Aragorn whispered, standing.
"He asked me to let him go. He was in pain," Pippin whispered, "It sh-should have been me, Aragorn. I caused all of this!"
Aragorn looked at Pippin and took the forlorn hobbit in his arms. Pippin pressed his face into Aragorns shoulder and sobbed hard. "Shh," Aragorn whispered, fondling the hobbits' hair gently. "It is not your fault – none of it is Peregrin." Aragorn rocked the hobbit until he heard only a sniff once in awhile. The ranger looked down at Pippin and saw that he had fallen asleep. Gently, Aragorn picked Pippin up and carried him over to be with his cousins. He laid him on the ground carefully, never disturbing Pippin enough to wake him. Slowly, Aragorn turned and headed over to Merrys still form. "I wish I could have saved you, Merriadoc Brandybuck." He whispered, touching the hobbit corpse's forehead and feeling very little warmth in it.
Frodo woke soon after and was by Aragorns side. "Oh Aragorn. Is he…dead?" Frodo asked, stepping back slightly.
"Aye," Aragorn replied and Frodo knelt before his cousin. Aragorn rested a hand on Frodos shoulder. "It is not fair," Frodo hissed, "He was so full of life – had so much to look forward to!"
Aragorn nodded slowly and Legolas, Gimli, Sam, and at the last, Boromir. They each came over to Aragorn and stared down at the dead hobbit – none of them could believe it. None of them said a word for a long time – there were no words to say. Each member was taken with grief – not only for Merry, but for also Gandalf. "Too many deaths," Legolas said at last.
"Poor lad…" Gimli whispered and Legolas placed a tender hand on Gimli's shoulder.
Boromir just shook his head and whispered, "I cannot believe it."
"Taint fair!" Sam cried.
A while later, Pippin woke, though he did not move. No tears fell and a hard look came into his eyes. Slowly, he stood, but sat back down. Frodo went over to his cousin, wrapped his arms around him, and pulled him close. "He said I'd be all right," Pippin whispered, "I don't feel like I will."
"I know Pippin dear, I know," Frodo whispered, unsure what to say.
Everyone milled around, seemingly going through the motions of the things at hand. Legolas was packing, Boromir was putting what was left of the fire out, Aragorn and Gimli were digging a grave, and Frodo was comforting Pippin. Scarcely a word was said between the remaining members of the Fellowship – no one had the energy or the urge to do so - even by the time the funeral was to be held. Pippin, Sam, and Frodo stood on one side of the grave, Gimli and Legolas were on the other, and Aragorn and Boromir carried Merry on the platform they had built.
Pippin watched all of this with silent tears streaming down his face. Frodos eyes were dewy, but none fell as he placed a hand on Pippins small shoulder. Sam had head bowed and rocked slightly on the balls of his feet and was whispering something repeatedly. Slowly, when Aragorn and Boromir came to the grave, they laid the still body and the platform into it. Both men stood back and stared down at it. "Quel esta," Aragorn began, "Tenna' ento lye omenta. Mellonamin."
"Tenna ento omenta," everyone whispered.
"Pippin, shall ye place the first handful of dirt in the grave?" Aragorn asked softly. Pippin only nodded and went to the pile of dirt and scooped some up in his shaking hand. He went to the grave and opened his hand so that the dirt would fall slowly down upon the corpse. Pippin then slowly back up and watched as each one did the same. Horror was on his face as he watched. This could not be happening! This had to be a nightmare. It was a nightmare, though, one of which Pippin neither would nor could ever wake from- this was real, even though he did not wish it to be, but Merry was right, Pippin would be all right and he could live without his beloved cousin. Even though it was hard, he did.
Translation: Rest well. Until next we meet. My Friend