Darkness covers most, but not all
Aragorn sat, quietly humming to himself the
lullaby his mother had sang to him as a child; it had always helped
to calm and soothe him, and the two figures he was going to see
surely needed it. He turned a corner in the houses of healing,
looked at the two perian sleeping in a large feather bed and found a
sight that made his troubled heart ease ever so slightly. Merry
was laying on his bed, his chest rising and falling with his deep
breathing, and Pippin curled up next to him, with Merry's arm
around his shoulder, seemingly keeping away any being that may harm
or attempt to take away his sleeping cousin. Aragorn smiled,
throughout their journey they had been the sunlight in a world full
of darkness, and even after that darkness was gone, they still lit up
the world. Merry stirred slightly and wrapped his arm tighter
around Pippin, his face fading from happiness to worry. Aragorn
knew what Merry must be dreaming of, the horrible journey that had
cost him: his and his cousin's innocence. Gandalf had always
told Aragorn not to underestimate hobbits, and that they were made of
sterner stuff than they looked, but Aragorn was worried that this
quest had pushed Merry over his limits. He had seen things that
none of his kind would most likely ever be subjected to, and he had
helped his cousin Pippin, through it all, trying the whole time to
stay strong for his younger. But Aragorn had seen the looks;
the looks that would cross Merry's charming face when he thought no
one, especially Pippin, wasn't looking. He had been
terrified; terrified at what would happen should anything happen to
him, and even more terrified if anything happened to the people he
loved most. Aragorn had tried to approach him with the subject,
but Merry had declined his help, saying that he was perfectly fine,
but Aragorn knew better. Merry had been faced by one of the
most evil creatures that has walked this earth, not once, not twice,
but three times had he faced the Black Breath. No one should be
subjected to that. Aragorn shuddered at the very thought of
those creatures; they were the one thing in Middle Earth that still
had the power over his fears, only they could make his heart race and
flutter with fear. Not Merry though, he had not only survived
three attacks from the foul beasts, a miracle in and of itself, but
he had slain one, something that no one has ever managed to achieve.
That above all was what concerned Aragorn; he feared that after those
encounters, Merry would never be the same. Then his gaze moved
from the sleeping form of Merry, to the littler form of the person
whom Merry loved above all. Aragorn was glad Pippin had come on the
quest, despite his earlier thoughts on the subject. Pippin was
annoying at times, and much too curious for his own good, but Aragorn
felt that it was he that had saved Merry from turning into the cold,
hardened hobbit that Aragorn expected him to become after such a
trying journey. The little cousin, had saved Merry, yet another
one of the miracles of the quest. Aragorn had thought the exact
opposite, that Merry would be the one to save Pippin, as he so often
did, but in saving Pippin, he got saved as well. Pippin in
return, had comforted Merry when he cried, had been the one holding
his hand for every minute when he lay lifeless in the houses of
healing, had been the one that brought Merry back from the darkness
Aragorn had been sure would consume him.
"Aragorn, is something
wrong?" Merry sat up slowly, trying his best not to move Pippin,
pulling Aragorn out of his reverie.
"No," Aragorn smiled
Merry, thanking the Valar he had been spared from an eternity of
suffering, thanking him for the friend that had pulled him through.
"No Merry, there is nothing wrong, go back to bed now."
"Well,
if you're sure." Merry smiled and lay back down, putting his arm
back in its former position around Pippins shoulder. "Goodnight
then Aragorn, pleasant dreams."
Aragorn smiled to himself, he
would have pleasant dreams now he knew everything was all right.
