Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! So many lovely reviews! You really make me
wanna write and write I love you people! Well if you think I'm full of
surprises now just wait till I get started. And Trilliah yes I guess it is
kinda funny my reaction to my own writing and stuff but that is how I feel.
It just appears before me and I had no say in it. Then I look back read it
and wonder if *I* am the one who really wrote it and *Why?* It is very hard
to describe how I get when I write, it's like I fall away and the world
fades around me and I am immersed in some wordless uncomprehendable
existance that's just full of some raw emotion from a completely unknown
sorce. When I awake I wrote something and well that is what it was. So you
could imagine my shock when I awoke from my daze to find I HAD KILLED SAM!
Then I decide to continue it and *BOOM* I KILLED PIPPIN! AND MERRY! I think
I've lost all control over this now. It's like a flood and it's
overwhelming me. Sometimes when I start a story I am able to take hold of
it and gain control. This is not one of those times. So exactly what is
coming next not even I know...
~~~
Merry felt cold, as if everything inside of him was dying and a winter was overcoming his soul. He knew exactly how to describe it, Pippin was his spring and now without Pippin all that was left was the frosty, dead snow that overwhelmed him. How he wished his dear, young cousin was there with him, he could not fathom what terrible thoughts went through his cousin's frightened mind as he awaited his death. Merry shiverred and drew his arms tight around himself, he needed the warm smile and light laugh of his naive cousin to brighten this endless winter.
"Is this how I must die, so cold and alone?" he whispered to himself. The words seemed not his own as they drifted in his mind like a cold winter's wind.
He looked up at the darkening sky, the sun the color of blood, the sky filled with smoke as Mordor expanded it's hold over the lands. It happened so fast, so fast, but he knew the moment the quest had failed, and with that came his endless winter. He could see the armies in the far distance swallowing all of Middle-Earth in their blackness and slaying the land as they passed. It would only be a matter of time before they were upon him.
The men in the camp prepared for the battle they knew too well was their last. Merry's thoughts strayed from Pippin to his other dear cousin. He wondered if Frodo lived, what torment he was suffering. Merry shiverred and felt a tight pang in his heart. It was all for naught. How he wished to be back at BrandyHall with all of his cousins on a warm spring day, with Pip. He felt a shadow of a smile pass across his solemn, ashen face, remembering those warm spring days when Pippin would appear from behind a tree harboring the ripe berries he was able to snatch. Always enough for two. Merry would laugh and tossle Pippin's curls. It was all too long ago now. And he feared he would never see that bright face of pure innocence again, beable to tossle those soft curls.
He fought the overwhelming despair that threatened to swallow his heart. But how could he? Pippin was out there, somewhere, in a place where the death and destruction would begin. He was in the very place Mordor would attack the hardest, how could he fight this despair if he wasn't there to look after his cousin? Merry fought back the sobs that began to make him tremble as he crammed them back inside of him. Tears blurred his vision.
And the Shire? It would die along with the rest of Middle-Earth. His family, his people, the very people he was there to protect. But was that what he had in mind when he set out? No, all he could think of was what fun an adventure would be and how much he needed to stick by Frodo. And he had failed at that as well. He didn't stick by Frodo, he let him go, go to Mordor to die. But Sam was with him, at least he had someone. And yet Merry knew that both of them together was not enough, they were out there, somewhere, beyond his aid, beyond his hope, beyond his very prayers. Another bout of sobs and tears threatened to engulf him.
He felt a hand fall on his shoulder. "Strider?" he managed to choke through the tears.
The man nodded solemnly, his face stone set and grim. Strider knew, they all knew what was to come. And yet Strider tried to comfort him. Merry felt his anguish flow in a storm of anger.
"Why do you try to comfort me so? I shouldn't be here! Pippin shouldn't have gone to Gondor! Frodo and Sam shouldn't have gone to Mordor! Why us? We should be in the Shire, safe, safe from all of this!"
"You know as well as I that nowhere is safe now," he answered calmly.
Merry boiled with rage, "You made him leave! And you made me stay! Now we will all die alone!"
"I cannot bring your cousins or anyone back to you. How I wish you all did not partake of this journey, it went against my council. But we can do nothing of it now but ready ourselves for battle."
"Why? If we are going to die? If Middle-Earth is lost forever? Why do we fight any longer?"
Aragorn did not answer this. He looked out at the black forces slowly consuming the lands. Merry sniffed the tears flowing down his cheeks now and his body wracked with sobs.
"Did he betray us, Aragorn?" Merry asked in a meek voice that sounded like a frightened Pippin. He wiped his tears angrily at the thought of his young cousin frightened.
"Who?"
"Frodo. Did he take the ring to Sauron?"
"I don't believe it so. Frodo had a true heart, and Sam one even more so, together the ring was safe in their keeping, as long as they both drew breath it was safe."
The man said this with such sincerity Merry believed it so. But this raised a new question. "What happened?"
"I wish I knew."
"Something has happened to them. They were captured. Sauron has them. Oh, what will he do to them!"
Aragorn sighed and Merry thought he detected a tear roll down the ranger's face. Merry felt his own tears hot on his cheeks. They stood in that sombre silence. Merry turned back towards the forces he saw scurrying across the lands growing ever closer. He drew in a deep and ragged breath. Aragorn turned and dissappeared amongst the chaos at the camps.
Merry could see the dark, winged creatures soaring across the sky, screaming with that terrible voice that froze him. He closed his eyes forcing back tears, he could hear a terrible cry that sent chills through him, freezing his blood, freezing his bones. In the distance flew terrible beasts with black riders on the mount. He froze, his hand hoverred above his sword as he still clung to thoughts of Frodo, Sam, Pippin. He could remember waking that morning to the cries of men about the campsite, "The Ring has been taken to Sauron! Darkness if falling upon Middle-Earth! We've met our end!" All he could think to do was cover his eyes with his covers and think of Pippin. He didn't cry or panick or even move. After all it could have all been a dream, some terrible nightmare, and he would wake in Brandy Hall, warm and snug in his bed surrounded by the serene, sleeping faces of all his young cousins.
As he saw those dark figures advancing in the distance he closed his eyes tight and moved his mouth wordlessly, "It can still be a dream. All a dream. Some terrible dream. Oh wake me Pippin, wake me from this terrible dream!"
There was a long moment of silence as a dark night fell on Merry's heart. The terrible cries advanced and a shadow played across the sky as if some monstrous bird blocked the sun with its black plumes. It was then that Merry thought he heard a cry, some small voice carried on the wind like a brittle leaf. At first it was nothing, just a bable of words sighing softly like some frightened child whimpering in the dark of night, calling for his parents to comfort him from a bad dream. Merry closed his eyes, tears cold on his cheeks as his ears strained passed the horrible sound of the Ringwraiths. A voice formed out of the small whimpers in the wind.
"I wish you were here, Merry. I'm frightened."
Merry caught his heart in his throat. He screwed his eyes shut so he may picture his young cousin there with him instead of the terrible picture of black riders on their winged beasts. In the midst of cries of battle and a voice that sounded like a woman's challenging the wraith before them, Merry focussed on Pippin's voice. He bit his lip fighting back tears. He could picture his small cousin, one small hobbit lost among battle in Gondor. His mind raced for words that would comfort his cousin.
"Don't be frightened, Pip, it will be over soon."
"Merry?"
Merry did not know whether to laugh or cry at that. Yes, somehow through the tumult of battle, in the face of death, miles and miles away they could still comfort eachother. He could hear the cries of triumph as the wraith before him slew one of the men, but instead he also heard the small cry of a maiden. Someone near him. He had obviously been overlooked by the wraith. He kept his eyes shut a little longer, not wanting to lose the picture of his innocent cousin. He thought hard for some words of comfort, but what came was a bitter-sweet remark.
"We both face battle now, Pip, we will depart together."
With the silence came the cold cry of the wraith once more as an icy wind swept through Merry. He opened his eyes to see the creature towering over him, a fair maiden lay at his side. It was the Lady Eowyn. Merry quickly drew his sword in the mix of rage, anguish, love for Rohan, and love for his cousin, he thrust his sword into the tall wraith. It's screech a terrible shattering in his ears. Merry stumbled back as icy poison felt like it was shot through his arm with one piecing blow. He cradled his arm, his eyes filling with fear as he saw the wraith draw his own blade. Merry closed his eyes tight, waiting his death. The coldness spread through him, taking an iron grip on his body as he felt his mind slipping into a darkness of shadowy dreams. The world reeled about him as ice shot through his dark and cold body. He felt the ground hit him hard and darkness take over. Darkness filled his world, the pain subsided into a warm numbness and then- nothing. The night that lay perpetually in his heart lifted with a veil of mist as bright white light penetrated his clouded vision, and- no more.
~
Alright the initial shock that I've killed Merry has worn off. And still I cry for hours on end when I look back and see what destruction I've caused. ::looks down at hands:: why are you doing this?!?! Why?! ::hands look back up at me with false innocence:: Don't give me that look! I invented that look! What have you done? You wretched hands! Look what you've typed! Bad hands! Bad!
In response to one of my reviewers... Aquachica... Me? Kill Frodo? That's preposterous! (reminisces:: few weeks ago... Me Kill Sam? Preposterous! few days ago... Me Kill Pippin? Preposterous! couple days ago... Me Kill Merry? Preposterous!) ::laughs meekly:: I'd never...::looks down at hands:: ::laughter dies down:: You wouldn't! Would you? ::hands look back up innocently then hold to keyboard protectively:: O_O Oh no... They wouldn't.... They can't.... Oh no they're typing the next chapter.................................. and I've lost all control O_o...................
~~~
Merry felt cold, as if everything inside of him was dying and a winter was overcoming his soul. He knew exactly how to describe it, Pippin was his spring and now without Pippin all that was left was the frosty, dead snow that overwhelmed him. How he wished his dear, young cousin was there with him, he could not fathom what terrible thoughts went through his cousin's frightened mind as he awaited his death. Merry shiverred and drew his arms tight around himself, he needed the warm smile and light laugh of his naive cousin to brighten this endless winter.
"Is this how I must die, so cold and alone?" he whispered to himself. The words seemed not his own as they drifted in his mind like a cold winter's wind.
He looked up at the darkening sky, the sun the color of blood, the sky filled with smoke as Mordor expanded it's hold over the lands. It happened so fast, so fast, but he knew the moment the quest had failed, and with that came his endless winter. He could see the armies in the far distance swallowing all of Middle-Earth in their blackness and slaying the land as they passed. It would only be a matter of time before they were upon him.
The men in the camp prepared for the battle they knew too well was their last. Merry's thoughts strayed from Pippin to his other dear cousin. He wondered if Frodo lived, what torment he was suffering. Merry shiverred and felt a tight pang in his heart. It was all for naught. How he wished to be back at BrandyHall with all of his cousins on a warm spring day, with Pip. He felt a shadow of a smile pass across his solemn, ashen face, remembering those warm spring days when Pippin would appear from behind a tree harboring the ripe berries he was able to snatch. Always enough for two. Merry would laugh and tossle Pippin's curls. It was all too long ago now. And he feared he would never see that bright face of pure innocence again, beable to tossle those soft curls.
He fought the overwhelming despair that threatened to swallow his heart. But how could he? Pippin was out there, somewhere, in a place where the death and destruction would begin. He was in the very place Mordor would attack the hardest, how could he fight this despair if he wasn't there to look after his cousin? Merry fought back the sobs that began to make him tremble as he crammed them back inside of him. Tears blurred his vision.
And the Shire? It would die along with the rest of Middle-Earth. His family, his people, the very people he was there to protect. But was that what he had in mind when he set out? No, all he could think of was what fun an adventure would be and how much he needed to stick by Frodo. And he had failed at that as well. He didn't stick by Frodo, he let him go, go to Mordor to die. But Sam was with him, at least he had someone. And yet Merry knew that both of them together was not enough, they were out there, somewhere, beyond his aid, beyond his hope, beyond his very prayers. Another bout of sobs and tears threatened to engulf him.
He felt a hand fall on his shoulder. "Strider?" he managed to choke through the tears.
The man nodded solemnly, his face stone set and grim. Strider knew, they all knew what was to come. And yet Strider tried to comfort him. Merry felt his anguish flow in a storm of anger.
"Why do you try to comfort me so? I shouldn't be here! Pippin shouldn't have gone to Gondor! Frodo and Sam shouldn't have gone to Mordor! Why us? We should be in the Shire, safe, safe from all of this!"
"You know as well as I that nowhere is safe now," he answered calmly.
Merry boiled with rage, "You made him leave! And you made me stay! Now we will all die alone!"
"I cannot bring your cousins or anyone back to you. How I wish you all did not partake of this journey, it went against my council. But we can do nothing of it now but ready ourselves for battle."
"Why? If we are going to die? If Middle-Earth is lost forever? Why do we fight any longer?"
Aragorn did not answer this. He looked out at the black forces slowly consuming the lands. Merry sniffed the tears flowing down his cheeks now and his body wracked with sobs.
"Did he betray us, Aragorn?" Merry asked in a meek voice that sounded like a frightened Pippin. He wiped his tears angrily at the thought of his young cousin frightened.
"Who?"
"Frodo. Did he take the ring to Sauron?"
"I don't believe it so. Frodo had a true heart, and Sam one even more so, together the ring was safe in their keeping, as long as they both drew breath it was safe."
The man said this with such sincerity Merry believed it so. But this raised a new question. "What happened?"
"I wish I knew."
"Something has happened to them. They were captured. Sauron has them. Oh, what will he do to them!"
Aragorn sighed and Merry thought he detected a tear roll down the ranger's face. Merry felt his own tears hot on his cheeks. They stood in that sombre silence. Merry turned back towards the forces he saw scurrying across the lands growing ever closer. He drew in a deep and ragged breath. Aragorn turned and dissappeared amongst the chaos at the camps.
Merry could see the dark, winged creatures soaring across the sky, screaming with that terrible voice that froze him. He closed his eyes forcing back tears, he could hear a terrible cry that sent chills through him, freezing his blood, freezing his bones. In the distance flew terrible beasts with black riders on the mount. He froze, his hand hoverred above his sword as he still clung to thoughts of Frodo, Sam, Pippin. He could remember waking that morning to the cries of men about the campsite, "The Ring has been taken to Sauron! Darkness if falling upon Middle-Earth! We've met our end!" All he could think to do was cover his eyes with his covers and think of Pippin. He didn't cry or panick or even move. After all it could have all been a dream, some terrible nightmare, and he would wake in Brandy Hall, warm and snug in his bed surrounded by the serene, sleeping faces of all his young cousins.
As he saw those dark figures advancing in the distance he closed his eyes tight and moved his mouth wordlessly, "It can still be a dream. All a dream. Some terrible dream. Oh wake me Pippin, wake me from this terrible dream!"
There was a long moment of silence as a dark night fell on Merry's heart. The terrible cries advanced and a shadow played across the sky as if some monstrous bird blocked the sun with its black plumes. It was then that Merry thought he heard a cry, some small voice carried on the wind like a brittle leaf. At first it was nothing, just a bable of words sighing softly like some frightened child whimpering in the dark of night, calling for his parents to comfort him from a bad dream. Merry closed his eyes, tears cold on his cheeks as his ears strained passed the horrible sound of the Ringwraiths. A voice formed out of the small whimpers in the wind.
"I wish you were here, Merry. I'm frightened."
Merry caught his heart in his throat. He screwed his eyes shut so he may picture his young cousin there with him instead of the terrible picture of black riders on their winged beasts. In the midst of cries of battle and a voice that sounded like a woman's challenging the wraith before them, Merry focussed on Pippin's voice. He bit his lip fighting back tears. He could picture his small cousin, one small hobbit lost among battle in Gondor. His mind raced for words that would comfort his cousin.
"Don't be frightened, Pip, it will be over soon."
"Merry?"
Merry did not know whether to laugh or cry at that. Yes, somehow through the tumult of battle, in the face of death, miles and miles away they could still comfort eachother. He could hear the cries of triumph as the wraith before him slew one of the men, but instead he also heard the small cry of a maiden. Someone near him. He had obviously been overlooked by the wraith. He kept his eyes shut a little longer, not wanting to lose the picture of his innocent cousin. He thought hard for some words of comfort, but what came was a bitter-sweet remark.
"We both face battle now, Pip, we will depart together."
With the silence came the cold cry of the wraith once more as an icy wind swept through Merry. He opened his eyes to see the creature towering over him, a fair maiden lay at his side. It was the Lady Eowyn. Merry quickly drew his sword in the mix of rage, anguish, love for Rohan, and love for his cousin, he thrust his sword into the tall wraith. It's screech a terrible shattering in his ears. Merry stumbled back as icy poison felt like it was shot through his arm with one piecing blow. He cradled his arm, his eyes filling with fear as he saw the wraith draw his own blade. Merry closed his eyes tight, waiting his death. The coldness spread through him, taking an iron grip on his body as he felt his mind slipping into a darkness of shadowy dreams. The world reeled about him as ice shot through his dark and cold body. He felt the ground hit him hard and darkness take over. Darkness filled his world, the pain subsided into a warm numbness and then- nothing. The night that lay perpetually in his heart lifted with a veil of mist as bright white light penetrated his clouded vision, and- no more.
~
Alright the initial shock that I've killed Merry has worn off. And still I cry for hours on end when I look back and see what destruction I've caused. ::looks down at hands:: why are you doing this?!?! Why?! ::hands look back up at me with false innocence:: Don't give me that look! I invented that look! What have you done? You wretched hands! Look what you've typed! Bad hands! Bad!
In response to one of my reviewers... Aquachica... Me? Kill Frodo? That's preposterous! (reminisces:: few weeks ago... Me Kill Sam? Preposterous! few days ago... Me Kill Pippin? Preposterous! couple days ago... Me Kill Merry? Preposterous!) ::laughs meekly:: I'd never...::looks down at hands:: ::laughter dies down:: You wouldn't! Would you? ::hands look back up innocently then hold to keyboard protectively:: O_O Oh no... They wouldn't.... They can't.... Oh no they're typing the next chapter.................................. and I've lost all control O_o...................