Frodo woke early the next morning, before anyone else and he decided to go
and look in on Merry. He peeped in the door and even though it was only a
slight sound, Merry woke.
"Oh, hello Frodo, what's the time?" Frodo looked back across the hallway at a Grandfather clock.
"Nearly four unless the clock's not been wound lately, but knowing Sam, it's in perfect working order." Answered Frodo. Merry sighed and turned over so his back was facing towards Frodo, he'd hoped that he'd wake up about the time Pippin did so he didn't have to wait and worry about what he would say to Pippin nor what Pippin would say to him.
"Do not worry so much." Said a soft, loving voice. It belonged to Primula who had evidently entered the room with Frodo.
"I know I shouldn't." Started Merry and Frodo interrupted,
"Sorry? Shouldn't what?"
"Oh, Frodo, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to. to. to your mother." He admitted.
"She is still here then? Has she been here since we left you yesterday?"
"No, not here as such. She came in with you, I think she stays with you where ever you go, like your father." He said, nodding in acknowledgement to Drogo.
"Where ever I go? Were they with me on the quest?" Merry looked to the two, they nodded solemnly and Primula said they had been with him ever since their spirits had left their bodies. So Merry said to Frodo:
"Yes, they were always with you, ever since they died." Frodo said nothing more, he was wondering what his life would have been like had they not been there, and would it even have made a difference to him.
"Merry, tell Frodo not to dwell on 'what ifs' and 'perhaps'. It is how it is and there's nothing anyone can do about it." Requested Primula, Merry did so and Frodo looked slightly better for it. "And it may be better," continued Primula, "If you didn't talk out loud to us, we can tell what you want to say to a certain extent and talking to thin air tends to unnerve people."
"Alright then," Thought Merry. Primula smiled at him in thanks.
Frodo's worries and regrets were washed away by the comforting news that his parents had been with him all through his life and he felt fresh waves of sleepiness engulf him now that so much weight had been taken off his mind. It was still only ten past four, there was still some time for some more rest. He told Merry of his plans to go back to bed and before he went he got Merry another glass of water. Now Merry was alone and still worrying about Pippin. He tossed and turned restlessly, dropping in and out of sleep. In his mind he was going over how Pippin could greet him in the morning, with a glare and a hiss, reproachfully, sorrowfully, expecting full retribution.
Then Merry realised who he was thinking about. His fever hadn't completely died down so that was what he blamed it on. Pippin was his ever-forgiving friend and one little setback like this wasn't going to change that one bit, it was hardly the first time they had not been on the best of terms. That thought put to rest his fears about the morning, but he still felt guilty for not telling Pippin how grateful he was for all his hard work while he was ill.
Sam popped his head round the door as the clock struck seven o'clock exactly, asking if Merry wanted anything. Merry thought he might try some food today as he was feeling much better. Sam got him some bread and jam and Merry nibbled on it, not eating too fast unless he began feeling nauseous again. Sam checked his temperature and reported that it was well on its way to normality but he shouldn't do too much lest it push his temperature back up. He questioned Sam about Pippin and Sam answered that he was still asleep and was expected to be that way for quite a while.
Merry sighed and continued to nibble at his piece of bread. He soon put it down, his stomach was starting to churn; he was quite plainly not back in shape yet. Outside he could hear the creaking floorboards of the others walking passed. This comforted him and he began to doze off. He was running through a field full of wheat, he ran under a tree and his foot caught one of the tree roots, tripping him up and making him jump, so that he was now wide awake. He hated it when that happened. He settled back down and tried to get back to sleep, as he had nothing better to do. He would like to get up and wander about but his upset stomach put an end to that thought.
When he was just starting to doze off again, he became aware of something not quite right in the room, it was unsettling and he couldn't ignore it. Merry opened his eyes and he was immediately aware of a shadow in the corner. It quickly became more than a shadow; a light wisp of black smoke, which soon became a dark cloud, and with the darkness' growing solidity, Merry's discomfort became wariness and it wasn't long before it became a fully fledged fear. He watched as the cloud took shape; it became a man. This man had no features on his face and his edges weren't clear-cut, they were fuzzy and swirled like thick black smoke when he moved. He had a certain likeness to a ringwraith.
Merry watched as the man approached him. His mouth was dry and he cowered under the covers like a child that has woken during the night and who can't move for fear of something leaping out and getting them. The man approached him and he quaked beneath the sheets, cold sweat formed on his forehead. There was he, Meriadoc the Magnificent, who had aided in the demise of the witch-king, shaking in his bed as an unknown man walked calmly towards him.
The man began to laugh upon seeing Merry's fear. Images from his dream flicked up in Merry's mind, Sauron, the ringwraiths, the darkness. The spirit reached forward and touched Merry's clammy cheek. Merry squirmed away from the touch, it was like a thick fog brushing against him but it had an acrid smell of smoke. Salty tears began forming involuntarily in his eyes, they threatened to break free and run down his cheeks. He felt like a house sparrow trapped beneath a sparrow hawk, awaiting the final squeeze that would end his life, yet still hoping beyond hope that the predator would just get off and leave him alone.
"Don't cry Merry dear." Said the spirit in a mocking tone and he went to wipe the tears from Merry's eyes but he hid his head beneath the covers. "There's no need to be afraid, for yourself anyway." He added with what probably would have been a smile. Merry calmed down at these words enough to speak and he noted the silence that was filling the room.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, but he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know. The spirit chuckled,
"Well, as you're asking, I was referring to your good friend and kinsman Peregrin, also known as Pippin or even Pip I believe." Merry found this knowledge of Pippin unnerving and the fact that he was mentioning Pippin at all made Merry's urgency to find out what the spirit was talking about all the more urgent.
"What about Pip?" he asked, panic was becoming evident in his voice.
"I've been watching him. I've been watching you all actually, but him most intently. He's so full of life, it shall be a joy to take that life away from him." A sudden anger surged through Merry's veins.
"You shall not take the life of my cousin while Sam, Frodo, Rosie and I have ours!" He yelled in defiance.
"That is an all too temping offer, and very noble of you in your condition. Yet I am afraid it's already too late." The meaning of this dawned on Merry,
"What have you done with him?" the spirit reached towards Merry's forehead and the fear immediately took over from the anger and Merry sunk back as far as he could go into the pillow, but it didn't help. The spirit touched his forehead but continued to push forwards into Merry's head. Merry felt as though his head was going to explode, as though it were going to split right down the middle. He'd die there and then. His eyes were screwed up tight and he tried to scream but the pain was too unbearable, any noise would make it hurt even more, if that was possible.
The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had begun. Merry opened his eyes and he found that he was now alone in a dark, dingy forest. He cocked his ear and found that a sound was blowing to him on the wind. He listened harder and worked out that it was a quiet whimper, it was a very pitiable sound. He walked towards the sound but found himself caught up on a breeze and blown towards it. Down below him he could see Pippin sitting in a small clearing, no sunlight reached him where he sat and Merry was taken closer. Pippin was shivering and he pulled his weskit around himself and rubbed his arms to warm them up. Pippin then looked upward - through Merry - and Merry could see tears coursing down his face. His lip was also split and his eye blackened, whatever had done this to his Pip would pay dearly. Pippin then curled up on the ground and hugged his knees in to keep as much out of the biting wind as possible. Merry opened his mouth to comfort Pippin but the wind blew hard and he was whisked away, back to his bed where he opened his eyes once more. After a moment's silence he began hysterically screaming for Pippin. He could tell that the spirit was smiling as he dissolved into the air and blew out of the window.
Frodo and Rosie rushed in to see what the Merry was screaming for. Merry jumped out of his bed and barged his way out of the room, sending Rosie flying. He dashed across the hall, strait into Sam who went reeling backwards, but Merry kept going, fast as he could towards Pippin's room. It couldn't be true, how could the spirit get Pippin? He threw the door to Pip's room open, it was dark and there was still a lump in the covers. Merry threw the bedclothes off but the lump had just been a fold in the material, the bed itself was empty.
"Oh, hello Frodo, what's the time?" Frodo looked back across the hallway at a Grandfather clock.
"Nearly four unless the clock's not been wound lately, but knowing Sam, it's in perfect working order." Answered Frodo. Merry sighed and turned over so his back was facing towards Frodo, he'd hoped that he'd wake up about the time Pippin did so he didn't have to wait and worry about what he would say to Pippin nor what Pippin would say to him.
"Do not worry so much." Said a soft, loving voice. It belonged to Primula who had evidently entered the room with Frodo.
"I know I shouldn't." Started Merry and Frodo interrupted,
"Sorry? Shouldn't what?"
"Oh, Frodo, I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to. to. to your mother." He admitted.
"She is still here then? Has she been here since we left you yesterday?"
"No, not here as such. She came in with you, I think she stays with you where ever you go, like your father." He said, nodding in acknowledgement to Drogo.
"Where ever I go? Were they with me on the quest?" Merry looked to the two, they nodded solemnly and Primula said they had been with him ever since their spirits had left their bodies. So Merry said to Frodo:
"Yes, they were always with you, ever since they died." Frodo said nothing more, he was wondering what his life would have been like had they not been there, and would it even have made a difference to him.
"Merry, tell Frodo not to dwell on 'what ifs' and 'perhaps'. It is how it is and there's nothing anyone can do about it." Requested Primula, Merry did so and Frodo looked slightly better for it. "And it may be better," continued Primula, "If you didn't talk out loud to us, we can tell what you want to say to a certain extent and talking to thin air tends to unnerve people."
"Alright then," Thought Merry. Primula smiled at him in thanks.
Frodo's worries and regrets were washed away by the comforting news that his parents had been with him all through his life and he felt fresh waves of sleepiness engulf him now that so much weight had been taken off his mind. It was still only ten past four, there was still some time for some more rest. He told Merry of his plans to go back to bed and before he went he got Merry another glass of water. Now Merry was alone and still worrying about Pippin. He tossed and turned restlessly, dropping in and out of sleep. In his mind he was going over how Pippin could greet him in the morning, with a glare and a hiss, reproachfully, sorrowfully, expecting full retribution.
Then Merry realised who he was thinking about. His fever hadn't completely died down so that was what he blamed it on. Pippin was his ever-forgiving friend and one little setback like this wasn't going to change that one bit, it was hardly the first time they had not been on the best of terms. That thought put to rest his fears about the morning, but he still felt guilty for not telling Pippin how grateful he was for all his hard work while he was ill.
Sam popped his head round the door as the clock struck seven o'clock exactly, asking if Merry wanted anything. Merry thought he might try some food today as he was feeling much better. Sam got him some bread and jam and Merry nibbled on it, not eating too fast unless he began feeling nauseous again. Sam checked his temperature and reported that it was well on its way to normality but he shouldn't do too much lest it push his temperature back up. He questioned Sam about Pippin and Sam answered that he was still asleep and was expected to be that way for quite a while.
Merry sighed and continued to nibble at his piece of bread. He soon put it down, his stomach was starting to churn; he was quite plainly not back in shape yet. Outside he could hear the creaking floorboards of the others walking passed. This comforted him and he began to doze off. He was running through a field full of wheat, he ran under a tree and his foot caught one of the tree roots, tripping him up and making him jump, so that he was now wide awake. He hated it when that happened. He settled back down and tried to get back to sleep, as he had nothing better to do. He would like to get up and wander about but his upset stomach put an end to that thought.
When he was just starting to doze off again, he became aware of something not quite right in the room, it was unsettling and he couldn't ignore it. Merry opened his eyes and he was immediately aware of a shadow in the corner. It quickly became more than a shadow; a light wisp of black smoke, which soon became a dark cloud, and with the darkness' growing solidity, Merry's discomfort became wariness and it wasn't long before it became a fully fledged fear. He watched as the cloud took shape; it became a man. This man had no features on his face and his edges weren't clear-cut, they were fuzzy and swirled like thick black smoke when he moved. He had a certain likeness to a ringwraith.
Merry watched as the man approached him. His mouth was dry and he cowered under the covers like a child that has woken during the night and who can't move for fear of something leaping out and getting them. The man approached him and he quaked beneath the sheets, cold sweat formed on his forehead. There was he, Meriadoc the Magnificent, who had aided in the demise of the witch-king, shaking in his bed as an unknown man walked calmly towards him.
The man began to laugh upon seeing Merry's fear. Images from his dream flicked up in Merry's mind, Sauron, the ringwraiths, the darkness. The spirit reached forward and touched Merry's clammy cheek. Merry squirmed away from the touch, it was like a thick fog brushing against him but it had an acrid smell of smoke. Salty tears began forming involuntarily in his eyes, they threatened to break free and run down his cheeks. He felt like a house sparrow trapped beneath a sparrow hawk, awaiting the final squeeze that would end his life, yet still hoping beyond hope that the predator would just get off and leave him alone.
"Don't cry Merry dear." Said the spirit in a mocking tone and he went to wipe the tears from Merry's eyes but he hid his head beneath the covers. "There's no need to be afraid, for yourself anyway." He added with what probably would have been a smile. Merry calmed down at these words enough to speak and he noted the silence that was filling the room.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked, but he wasn't so sure that he wanted to know. The spirit chuckled,
"Well, as you're asking, I was referring to your good friend and kinsman Peregrin, also known as Pippin or even Pip I believe." Merry found this knowledge of Pippin unnerving and the fact that he was mentioning Pippin at all made Merry's urgency to find out what the spirit was talking about all the more urgent.
"What about Pip?" he asked, panic was becoming evident in his voice.
"I've been watching him. I've been watching you all actually, but him most intently. He's so full of life, it shall be a joy to take that life away from him." A sudden anger surged through Merry's veins.
"You shall not take the life of my cousin while Sam, Frodo, Rosie and I have ours!" He yelled in defiance.
"That is an all too temping offer, and very noble of you in your condition. Yet I am afraid it's already too late." The meaning of this dawned on Merry,
"What have you done with him?" the spirit reached towards Merry's forehead and the fear immediately took over from the anger and Merry sunk back as far as he could go into the pillow, but it didn't help. The spirit touched his forehead but continued to push forwards into Merry's head. Merry felt as though his head was going to explode, as though it were going to split right down the middle. He'd die there and then. His eyes were screwed up tight and he tried to scream but the pain was too unbearable, any noise would make it hurt even more, if that was possible.
The pain disappeared as suddenly as it had begun. Merry opened his eyes and he found that he was now alone in a dark, dingy forest. He cocked his ear and found that a sound was blowing to him on the wind. He listened harder and worked out that it was a quiet whimper, it was a very pitiable sound. He walked towards the sound but found himself caught up on a breeze and blown towards it. Down below him he could see Pippin sitting in a small clearing, no sunlight reached him where he sat and Merry was taken closer. Pippin was shivering and he pulled his weskit around himself and rubbed his arms to warm them up. Pippin then looked upward - through Merry - and Merry could see tears coursing down his face. His lip was also split and his eye blackened, whatever had done this to his Pip would pay dearly. Pippin then curled up on the ground and hugged his knees in to keep as much out of the biting wind as possible. Merry opened his mouth to comfort Pippin but the wind blew hard and he was whisked away, back to his bed where he opened his eyes once more. After a moment's silence he began hysterically screaming for Pippin. He could tell that the spirit was smiling as he dissolved into the air and blew out of the window.
Frodo and Rosie rushed in to see what the Merry was screaming for. Merry jumped out of his bed and barged his way out of the room, sending Rosie flying. He dashed across the hall, strait into Sam who went reeling backwards, but Merry kept going, fast as he could towards Pippin's room. It couldn't be true, how could the spirit get Pippin? He threw the door to Pip's room open, it was dark and there was still a lump in the covers. Merry threw the bedclothes off but the lump had just been a fold in the material, the bed itself was empty.