Bruises. Everywhere. Some were fresh, obviously from the beating Merry had interrupted that day, some were bleeding. Others were ugly purple and yellows, browns and blacks and blues. And there were broken ribs, that was clear enough. Merry stepped forward and loosened Pippin's grip on his shirt before slipping it all the way off. Dilly had been clever, only hurting where it would be concealed. Pippin's arms and back were also bruised, as well as scratched, and there was a clumsy bandage on his right forearm whee he had obviously tried to patch himself up.
This was all observed in a flash, though it seemed forever until Pippin would meet Merry's eyes.
"I'm so sorry Pippin, I could have stopped him! How long has this been happening?" Merry's voice was thick.
"Months, Merry-don't cry, please!-it wasn't that bad at first, just Dilly, and I was going to tell, but then the Proudfeet started too, and they said-oh, Merry!-they said they would make me a cripple if I ever told anyone, and now, Merry, what am I going to do?" The young hobbit was practically trembling, his voice a panicked whisper as his eyes darted around the room looking anywhere but Merry.
"Hush, Pip." The Brandybuck said in a soothing tone. "I won't let them hurt you, ever again! Calm now." He hesitantly lay his hand on his cousin's bare shoulder. Pippin seemed to come to himself and let out a shuddering sigh. Merry pulled him in for a careful hug, and the Took slowly relaxed against him. "I won't leave you. I can help you fix your ribs now, if you'll let me. Do you have any comfrey?"
"Yes," came the muffled reply, "from last time. Loads. It's in my dresser." Pippin pulled away. "Could you-could you do the cuts on my back, Merry? I've tried but I can't reach them..."
"Of course. Let's get those done first so you can lie down." he turned to the dresser standing by the bed, and opened it. Hanging inside the doors were bunches of dried herbs, mostly comfrey, which Merry pulled out, but also some lavender, which he handed to Pippin to sniff. Moving back to the far wall, Merry started soaking some of the comfrey in the basin.
"Pip, undo your britches and come over here. Get me the clay I saw in that jar on the windowsill first. Please." Merry's eyes softened as he saw Pippin wince, bending over to get his trousers undone. "This will feel better."
The older hobbit took the clay and mixed the comfrey sludge into it. He told Pippin to stand still, and then smeared most of the paste carefully on all the bruises. With the rest of the whole leaves, he soaked them enough to wilt, and pressed them to the cuts on Pippin's once-smooth back.
"Now lie down, silly, and get off that leg."
Pippin smirked at the tone, but submitted. Merry sat beside him on the low bed and started applying the rest of the comfrey-clay paste to the purpling ribs?
"You silly, sweet Took!" His voice choked again, but he tried to smile through it. "I'm going to kill Dilly and those Proudfeet."
"Merry." Pippin touched the crying boy's face gently, "Don't. It won't help. But if you...helped me tell my father" his voice was had dropped to it was barely audible, "I'd be grateful."
"Of course I will, Pippin." Merry wiped his hands on his trousers. "You should sleep now." he whispered to the drowsy Took. Pippin's eyes fluttered closed willingly.
As the Brandybuck moved to leave, a hand snaked out and closed around his own.
"Stay with me, Merry?" Pippin murmured anxiously.
"Of course I will, Pip." Merry repeated, and lay down beside his favorite cousin. Pippin's breath evened out, but he didn't let go of Merry's hand. Merry smiled. They would figure out what to do in the morning.
For now, this is enough.