The next morning, it was actually Sam and Pippin who found the two
together. Pippin already suspected what he'd find, but poor Sam was
completely clueless. Even Pippin was slightly taken aback by what he saw.
Both Aragorn and Legolas were asleep, even though elves do not need to
sleep. Both were lying on their left shoulders, and uncomfortably close,
for any but lovers. Aragorn's strong arms were wrapped around Legolas'
waist, and his head was rested on the elf's shoulder. Pippin looked upon
the couple and - no! He pushed the thought out of his mind. They were not a
couple. Simply a pair. He looked upon the PAIR, and muttered under his
breath, "I don't believe it. Prince Legolas cannot possibly have been
telling the truth."
Not, of course, that the Prince could have possibly lied. Royalty never lies. And that, of course, is not an oxymoron.
Pippin cast a sideways glance at Sam, whom he knew had overheard the conversation he'd had the previous day with Legolas. Sam's eyes had practically popped out of his head. "Pippin." He began. "Do you think, perhaps, there may be something going on between. Prince Legolas, and King Aragorn?"
The younger Hobbit was about to deny this, but then recalled the late night/early morning conversation. He hesitated, but finally nodded. "Yes, Sam, I believe there is."
He stepped forward, and gently shook Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas, it is almost time for the funeral." These words stirred up yet another whirlpool of emotions inside the Hobbit, and tears almost immediately came to his eyes.
Legolas awoke so quickly Pippin immediately doubted he had ever been asleep. While the elf set to the task of waking Aragorn (apparently harder than it looks under such circumstances), Pippin returned to the doorway. Sam laid a gentle hand on Pippin's shoulder. "I don't really know what to say." He told the younger one. "For the closest I have ever been to your situation is when I said goodbye to Mister Frodo. I know it is not the same, but." A mist of tears appeared in Sam's eyes, and Pippin gently nodded, taking Sam's hand in his. The two could look after each other, until they got over the loss of their loved ones.
For the rest of eternity.
By this time, Aragorn had awoken, but had hardly shifted position, due to his sleepiness. "Legolas." He murmured. "Do I really have to get up /now/?"
"Being King has made you lazy." Legolas told him firmly, but obviously jestingly. His eyes flicked to the door, and noted Sam's presence. He was hoping to be 'woken' by a bit more of a gossip, so that more people would 'know', but he certainly didn't want Sam suspecting anything that was. well, actually true. He lowered his voice significantly, and whispered into Aragorn's ear, "Sam is here."
Aragorn twitched slightly, then pulled his arms away from the elf. He swore under his breath, and sat up. "Sam. What. how long have you been there?"
"A few minutes." Sam told the King, taking an automatic step backwards. "But. I didn't. see anything, if that's what you're asking. All I saw was you sleeping. next to Mister Legolas, sir, and that kind of got me thinking a bit. I mean, I'm not entirely sure, but it definitely seemed a little bit on the odd side. I mean. you know what I mean, don't you, your Majesty... I mean, Mister Aragorn, sir."
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a nervous look. Pippin was amazed at the extension of their acting abilities so early in the morning, but still a tiny voice nagged in the back of his mind, that perhaps it was not just acting. He shook his head, and mentally stomped on the idea.
"Should we tell him?"
"Maybe we should just stop hiding it from him."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No - in one, we actively tell him. In the other, we just let him watch and figure it out for himself."
"I like your idea."
If Pippin was shocked before, there were no words to describe the feeling of downright bewilderment he felt as he watched Legolas lean across and plant a gentle kiss on Aragorn's lips. No, no. It's one thing to let people think something based on a suspicion. But that's just beyond allowing people to believe what they want. "Hurry up." The elf whispered, walking towards the door. "You have exactly three minutes to get ready for the funeral."
*
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Sarudoc. One of the most well liked Hobbits in the entire Shire. None could know him, and not like him. It is simply amazing that such a fate could have befallen someone like Meriadoc - or 'Merry', as he was more commonly known."
Pippin stood, head bowed, between Sam and Legolas. He wanted to cry. It was appropriate for him to cry now, as Merry's closest and most trusted friend. But between the death and the funeral, he had simply run out of tears. Instead, he simply held tightly to Sam's arm and refused to look up as the casket was lowered into the grave.
He felt Legolas' gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder, and almost smiled. But only almost, because not even the simple, and yet so comforting gesture could overcome his sadness. He had more in the world than just Merry. but he had figured that the discovery of Merry's murderer would have made him feel, in a way, better. But now that he had discovered the murderer but was sworn to secrecy regarding his identity, he only felt (if possible) worse than before.
Sam could see this in his younger friend. He knew something was further troubling his mind, and the poor Hobbit needed no extra troubling. So after the funeral, he took Pippin home, sat him down firmly, looked him in the eye, and said, "What's wrong, Pippin? You look worse than before, if that's even possible."
There was silence after that. Pippin refused to answer, but Sam refused to give up until he got an answer. "What's wrong with you? There's something, I know it. Is it Aragorn and Legolas? Tell me!"
Pippin still remained silent, and Sam sat and awaited his answer. Finally, Pippin began to speak. "It's Aragorn."
"Aragorn." Sam repeated. "Now we're getting somewhere. What's Aragorn? What did Aragorn do to you?" He was speaking a bit more harshly than necessary, and he felt Pippin withdraw from him in fear.
He looked closely at Pippin for a moment, and could read the terror in his eyes. "Pippin.." Sam began again, this time a little more gently. "I don't mean to hurt you, I'm just trying to find out what's wrong. You're not going to feel better until you tell me. Now, what about Aragorn?"
Pippin looked at Sam for a moment, and remembered what he had once been once told - a trouble shared is a trouble halved. Should he tell? No, he couldn't. He had sworn to never tell a soul, but then again. Sam wouldn't tell anyone else, right? But if Sam found out. perhaps he would react with a little more vengeance than Pippin did. The effect of these thoughts was dizzying. He opened his mouth to speak, but he choked on the words. He just couldn't say it. He looked for a moment into Sam's trustworthy eyes, and then he thought back to Aragorn. The image in his mind was not the kind- hearted King he had always seen before. It was as though it were a monster, snarling terribly at Pippin. and relentlessly stabbing his cousin Merry. Cold laughter filled Pippin's mind, sending a chill down his spine.
He knew whom he'd rather stay faithful to. But he knew whom it would be more beneficial to his health to stay faithful to.
He turned and ran from Sam. The older Hobbit immediately took chase, but Pippin was simply too fast.
He didn't know where he was going. He just had to get away from Sam. Somehow. If Sam ever caught up to him, then he'd be forced to tell him what really happened. And he couldn't do that. Not if he wanted to live.
He ran on and on, even after Sam gave up the chase. He let his legs carry him wherever they wished. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his very own Hobbit-hole. He had not been here alone since. since Aragorn.
He could hardly even think those words. Almost mechanically, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the mantelpiece. He slowly approached it, noticing immediately a painting. It was a portrait of himself and Merry, and they were both smiling happily. He picked it up from the mantelpiece, and looked at it carefully. It was a fair likeness of Merry, not perfect, but the painter had captured a lot of Merry's. /Merryness/ in the picture.
As he looked at the picture, a fresh batch of tears welled up inside him. "Merry." He whispered. "It's useless. Nothing I can do will ever bring you back to me. What's the point?"
It was as though a voice was speaking in Pippin's head. He almost dropped the painting as he realised that his deceased cousin was speaking inside his head.
You have to tell him. You're going to wipe your eyes, walk over to Sam, and tell him.
But I can't.
Sam's worried about you. You have to tell him.
No. No I don't. Aragorn will.
Are you afraid of him?
Yes. I have good reason to be. Look what he did to you.
Are you afraid he'll kill you?
I'm afraid he'll hurt me. Since you. left me, I've only wanted to die.
Pippin, I will tell you the truth. My death was no accident. He intended to kill me all along. I would fear him if I were you. But you can't let fear keep your mouth shut. You have to tell Sam.
But.
No buts, Pippin. You're doing it!
I can't, Merry.
You have to!
I can't do it!
You are going to do it, and that's final!!
Pippin wiped his eyes, and carefully placed the painting back in its place on the mantelpiece. It was terrifying, knowing that he just spoke to a painting, but with each step, instead of getting more and more worried about what he had to tell Sam, he felt, almost better about it.
"Merry," he whispered, as he left to go find Sam, "I want you to know that you were always there for me when I was in trouble. I simply ask that you do one more thing for me. I want you to help me do this. to help me tell Sam. and then I will join you in your world."
Not, of course, that the Prince could have possibly lied. Royalty never lies. And that, of course, is not an oxymoron.
Pippin cast a sideways glance at Sam, whom he knew had overheard the conversation he'd had the previous day with Legolas. Sam's eyes had practically popped out of his head. "Pippin." He began. "Do you think, perhaps, there may be something going on between. Prince Legolas, and King Aragorn?"
The younger Hobbit was about to deny this, but then recalled the late night/early morning conversation. He hesitated, but finally nodded. "Yes, Sam, I believe there is."
He stepped forward, and gently shook Legolas' shoulder. "Legolas, it is almost time for the funeral." These words stirred up yet another whirlpool of emotions inside the Hobbit, and tears almost immediately came to his eyes.
Legolas awoke so quickly Pippin immediately doubted he had ever been asleep. While the elf set to the task of waking Aragorn (apparently harder than it looks under such circumstances), Pippin returned to the doorway. Sam laid a gentle hand on Pippin's shoulder. "I don't really know what to say." He told the younger one. "For the closest I have ever been to your situation is when I said goodbye to Mister Frodo. I know it is not the same, but." A mist of tears appeared in Sam's eyes, and Pippin gently nodded, taking Sam's hand in his. The two could look after each other, until they got over the loss of their loved ones.
For the rest of eternity.
By this time, Aragorn had awoken, but had hardly shifted position, due to his sleepiness. "Legolas." He murmured. "Do I really have to get up /now/?"
"Being King has made you lazy." Legolas told him firmly, but obviously jestingly. His eyes flicked to the door, and noted Sam's presence. He was hoping to be 'woken' by a bit more of a gossip, so that more people would 'know', but he certainly didn't want Sam suspecting anything that was. well, actually true. He lowered his voice significantly, and whispered into Aragorn's ear, "Sam is here."
Aragorn twitched slightly, then pulled his arms away from the elf. He swore under his breath, and sat up. "Sam. What. how long have you been there?"
"A few minutes." Sam told the King, taking an automatic step backwards. "But. I didn't. see anything, if that's what you're asking. All I saw was you sleeping. next to Mister Legolas, sir, and that kind of got me thinking a bit. I mean, I'm not entirely sure, but it definitely seemed a little bit on the odd side. I mean. you know what I mean, don't you, your Majesty... I mean, Mister Aragorn, sir."
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged a nervous look. Pippin was amazed at the extension of their acting abilities so early in the morning, but still a tiny voice nagged in the back of his mind, that perhaps it was not just acting. He shook his head, and mentally stomped on the idea.
"Should we tell him?"
"Maybe we should just stop hiding it from him."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No - in one, we actively tell him. In the other, we just let him watch and figure it out for himself."
"I like your idea."
If Pippin was shocked before, there were no words to describe the feeling of downright bewilderment he felt as he watched Legolas lean across and plant a gentle kiss on Aragorn's lips. No, no. It's one thing to let people think something based on a suspicion. But that's just beyond allowing people to believe what they want. "Hurry up." The elf whispered, walking towards the door. "You have exactly three minutes to get ready for the funeral."
*
"Meriadoc Brandybuck, son of Sarudoc. One of the most well liked Hobbits in the entire Shire. None could know him, and not like him. It is simply amazing that such a fate could have befallen someone like Meriadoc - or 'Merry', as he was more commonly known."
Pippin stood, head bowed, between Sam and Legolas. He wanted to cry. It was appropriate for him to cry now, as Merry's closest and most trusted friend. But between the death and the funeral, he had simply run out of tears. Instead, he simply held tightly to Sam's arm and refused to look up as the casket was lowered into the grave.
He felt Legolas' gentle, comforting hand on his shoulder, and almost smiled. But only almost, because not even the simple, and yet so comforting gesture could overcome his sadness. He had more in the world than just Merry. but he had figured that the discovery of Merry's murderer would have made him feel, in a way, better. But now that he had discovered the murderer but was sworn to secrecy regarding his identity, he only felt (if possible) worse than before.
Sam could see this in his younger friend. He knew something was further troubling his mind, and the poor Hobbit needed no extra troubling. So after the funeral, he took Pippin home, sat him down firmly, looked him in the eye, and said, "What's wrong, Pippin? You look worse than before, if that's even possible."
There was silence after that. Pippin refused to answer, but Sam refused to give up until he got an answer. "What's wrong with you? There's something, I know it. Is it Aragorn and Legolas? Tell me!"
Pippin still remained silent, and Sam sat and awaited his answer. Finally, Pippin began to speak. "It's Aragorn."
"Aragorn." Sam repeated. "Now we're getting somewhere. What's Aragorn? What did Aragorn do to you?" He was speaking a bit more harshly than necessary, and he felt Pippin withdraw from him in fear.
He looked closely at Pippin for a moment, and could read the terror in his eyes. "Pippin.." Sam began again, this time a little more gently. "I don't mean to hurt you, I'm just trying to find out what's wrong. You're not going to feel better until you tell me. Now, what about Aragorn?"
Pippin looked at Sam for a moment, and remembered what he had once been once told - a trouble shared is a trouble halved. Should he tell? No, he couldn't. He had sworn to never tell a soul, but then again. Sam wouldn't tell anyone else, right? But if Sam found out. perhaps he would react with a little more vengeance than Pippin did. The effect of these thoughts was dizzying. He opened his mouth to speak, but he choked on the words. He just couldn't say it. He looked for a moment into Sam's trustworthy eyes, and then he thought back to Aragorn. The image in his mind was not the kind- hearted King he had always seen before. It was as though it were a monster, snarling terribly at Pippin. and relentlessly stabbing his cousin Merry. Cold laughter filled Pippin's mind, sending a chill down his spine.
He knew whom he'd rather stay faithful to. But he knew whom it would be more beneficial to his health to stay faithful to.
He turned and ran from Sam. The older Hobbit immediately took chase, but Pippin was simply too fast.
He didn't know where he was going. He just had to get away from Sam. Somehow. If Sam ever caught up to him, then he'd be forced to tell him what really happened. And he couldn't do that. Not if he wanted to live.
He ran on and on, even after Sam gave up the chase. He let his legs carry him wherever they wished. Before he knew it, he was standing in front of his very own Hobbit-hole. He had not been here alone since. since Aragorn.
He could hardly even think those words. Almost mechanically, he unlocked the door and let himself in. Immediately, his eyes were drawn to the mantelpiece. He slowly approached it, noticing immediately a painting. It was a portrait of himself and Merry, and they were both smiling happily. He picked it up from the mantelpiece, and looked at it carefully. It was a fair likeness of Merry, not perfect, but the painter had captured a lot of Merry's. /Merryness/ in the picture.
As he looked at the picture, a fresh batch of tears welled up inside him. "Merry." He whispered. "It's useless. Nothing I can do will ever bring you back to me. What's the point?"
It was as though a voice was speaking in Pippin's head. He almost dropped the painting as he realised that his deceased cousin was speaking inside his head.
You have to tell him. You're going to wipe your eyes, walk over to Sam, and tell him.
But I can't.
Sam's worried about you. You have to tell him.
No. No I don't. Aragorn will.
Are you afraid of him?
Yes. I have good reason to be. Look what he did to you.
Are you afraid he'll kill you?
I'm afraid he'll hurt me. Since you. left me, I've only wanted to die.
Pippin, I will tell you the truth. My death was no accident. He intended to kill me all along. I would fear him if I were you. But you can't let fear keep your mouth shut. You have to tell Sam.
But.
No buts, Pippin. You're doing it!
I can't, Merry.
You have to!
I can't do it!
You are going to do it, and that's final!!
Pippin wiped his eyes, and carefully placed the painting back in its place on the mantelpiece. It was terrifying, knowing that he just spoke to a painting, but with each step, instead of getting more and more worried about what he had to tell Sam, he felt, almost better about it.
"Merry," he whispered, as he left to go find Sam, "I want you to know that you were always there for me when I was in trouble. I simply ask that you do one more thing for me. I want you to help me do this. to help me tell Sam. and then I will join you in your world."