Merry waited impatiently in the houses of healing. Strider had taken Pippin
into one of the rooms inside and he and a healer had been in their for
hours. Merry was made to wait outside the room with Boromir. Merry had been
very surprised when Legolas arrived shortly after they did, but now his
thoughts were on Pippin again. He would have plenty of time to talk to
Legolas later.
After what seemed like an age, Strider came out of the room. Those waiting looked at him expectantly.
"He's sleeping now," he said, "but he should be alright." He smiled at Merry, "You can go in, but try not to disturb him." Merry needed no further invitation. He rushed into the room, where Pippin lay on a large bed. His skin was still flushed, but not as badly as before. It looked as though the fever had broken.
Merry sat down in a chair by the bed as the healer left and took Pippin's hand in his own. Overwhelmed with relief, he brought that hand up to his mouth and kissed it. In his sleep, Pippin smiled a little. Aragorn, standing in the doorway, looked at the bands around their wrists. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled, as he understood. He closed the door, and gave the two hobbits their privacy.
***
"Merry!" Pippin called as he came above the water. He reached out his hand to where Merry was standing, on the bank of the river, but Merry didn't take his hand. "Merry!" Pippin called again.
Pippin slipped beneath the surface of the water. He splashed around, trying to pull himself up. He looked and saw Merry standing there.
"I'm here with you," Merry mocked him, refusing to take his hand. Refusing to help him.
"Merry!" Pippin called again, "I thought you loved me!" But Merry just laughed at his plight, a cruel gleam in his eye as he sank beneath the water again. Pippin saw his loved one through the murky water, and saw that he didn't love him back.
***
Pippin woke up, shaking with fear, his mind filled with the dream that had been so real. He blinked and slowly a white ceiling came into focus, his panicked breathing slowly returning to normal. He turned his head slightly and looked round at the room he was in. Merry was sitting in a chair next to the bed where he lay, watching him anxiously.
"Pippin?" Merry's voice was filled with concern, but Pippin kept thinking of the way Merry had been in the dream. He shuddered, and tried to tell himself it was just a dream, that Merry would never act that way, but still he couldn't bring himself to meet Merry's worried gaze.
"Pippin, what's wrong?" When Pippin didn't reply, he spoke again, his voice tinged with fear. "Pippin, I'm here with you." The words of the dream. That simple sentence made it seem even more real. He knew logically that it was nothing more than a dream, that Merry would never act that way, but still he withdrew when Merry put a hand on his shoulder.
"What have I done, Pippin?" But Pippin couldn't bring himself to speak. He turned over, facing away from Merry. If he looked at Merry's face he saw only the cruel look that had been in the dream.
"Pippin, I love you," Merry sobbed, "please tell me what's wrong." 'I love you'. Pippin knew they were true. He knew that Merry loved him as much as he loved him. He knew it, he just couldn't believe it. The sneering laugh at the water's edge echoed in his ears until that was all he could hear.
***
Merry didn't want to leave Pippin alone, even though it was clear Pippin didn't want him there. He refused to speak to him or even look at him. Merry could only stare at Pippin's back, and cry silently.
He wouldn't leave, in case Pippin took a turn for the worse and there was no one with him to see, so he couldn't deceive himself about Pippin's actions. Pippin was acting as though he didn't want to be with Merry, and Merry didn't know what he'd done wrong, what he'd done to make Pippin hate him.
The metal bands around their wrists were now just a cruel irony. Pippin seemed to have forgotten about the bond they shared, and Merry couldn't imagine why. He watched as Pippin slipped into slumber again. He had stopped crying now, and passed through to the point where pain was a solid form in his stomach. He was calm and still, the grief flowing around him and through him but he didn't respond to it. There was simply too much pain for him to respond to.
He wanted nothing more than to find a way to heal the breach he had somehow made. He wanted to find out what he had done wrong and fix it. He wanted to close the chasm that had formed between himself and Pippin so that they could be together again. The way they were meant to be.
When Aragorn came in, holding a cup of something Merry guessed was medicine, he looked at Merry and saw the tear-streaks down his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the bed.
"He doesn't want me here," Merry said, eyes welling up again, "he won't even look at me."
"Merry, the disease he has is called Anax Fever," Aragorn said, "it's known to cause very realistic nightmares. Pippin has probably seen something in his sleep that's he's afraid of, and isn't yet able to talk about it even to you."
"He's had nightmares before and he's told me about them."
"He's still ill, Merry. When he's recovered and the dreams no longer have a hold over him, I'm sure he'll talk to you about them. Until then, all I can suggest is that you stay with him, let him know you're here." It was then that Pippin began to thrash about and cry out.
***
Pippin thrashed about in the water, trying to keep above the surface. Again Merry stood nearby, laughing at him. The band on Pippin's wrist was nothing but a weight, dragging him down into the water, trying to drown him.
"Merry!" he called. "Merry!" He reached out his hand, just as he went beneath the surface of the water. Distorted by the water, the sound of laughter came through to his ears. His lungs burned, despite the water that surrounded him, and screamed for breath.
He came momentarily above the surface, and took in a deep breath. But he went below again while still taking that breath in, and felt his mouth fill with water. He knew then that he was going to die.
Suddenly a hand gripped his. His eyes snapped open and looked into Merry's face, wet with tears.
"I'm here, Pippin," Merry was saying, "I love you." It was just a dream. Just a lying dream. Pippin closed his eyes against the images that still remained, but he clung to Merry's hand. Merry had pulled him from the water. Merry loved him.
Pippin cried, the visions of the dream still filling his mind. But through it all he felt Merry's touch. That was real. Merry's love was real. As long as he could remember that, what else mattered?
Pippin allowed himself to slip into sleep once more, no longer afraid of what terrible things he might see. They didn't mean anything. As long as he could hold Merry close, he didn't care. The bond they shared couldn't be broken by things so trivial as dreams. It was a bond of love so deep that it was not meant for breaking.
***
Author's note: Wow, I actually ended on a happy note. That's a first. But this doesn't mean you should stop reviewing. I love reviews.
If my descriptions of drowning aren't accurate, it's because Pippin wouldn't know what it feels like to drown, and therefore his dreams about it wouldn't be exactly as reality is. It's not because I don't know what I'm talking about. Honest.
There'll only be a couple more chapters after this one I'm afraid, but I've got an idea for the fourth story in the Fortune Trilogy. I think I'm turning into Douglas Adams.
After what seemed like an age, Strider came out of the room. Those waiting looked at him expectantly.
"He's sleeping now," he said, "but he should be alright." He smiled at Merry, "You can go in, but try not to disturb him." Merry needed no further invitation. He rushed into the room, where Pippin lay on a large bed. His skin was still flushed, but not as badly as before. It looked as though the fever had broken.
Merry sat down in a chair by the bed as the healer left and took Pippin's hand in his own. Overwhelmed with relief, he brought that hand up to his mouth and kissed it. In his sleep, Pippin smiled a little. Aragorn, standing in the doorway, looked at the bands around their wrists. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then smiled, as he understood. He closed the door, and gave the two hobbits their privacy.
***
"Merry!" Pippin called as he came above the water. He reached out his hand to where Merry was standing, on the bank of the river, but Merry didn't take his hand. "Merry!" Pippin called again.
Pippin slipped beneath the surface of the water. He splashed around, trying to pull himself up. He looked and saw Merry standing there.
"I'm here with you," Merry mocked him, refusing to take his hand. Refusing to help him.
"Merry!" Pippin called again, "I thought you loved me!" But Merry just laughed at his plight, a cruel gleam in his eye as he sank beneath the water again. Pippin saw his loved one through the murky water, and saw that he didn't love him back.
***
Pippin woke up, shaking with fear, his mind filled with the dream that had been so real. He blinked and slowly a white ceiling came into focus, his panicked breathing slowly returning to normal. He turned his head slightly and looked round at the room he was in. Merry was sitting in a chair next to the bed where he lay, watching him anxiously.
"Pippin?" Merry's voice was filled with concern, but Pippin kept thinking of the way Merry had been in the dream. He shuddered, and tried to tell himself it was just a dream, that Merry would never act that way, but still he couldn't bring himself to meet Merry's worried gaze.
"Pippin, what's wrong?" When Pippin didn't reply, he spoke again, his voice tinged with fear. "Pippin, I'm here with you." The words of the dream. That simple sentence made it seem even more real. He knew logically that it was nothing more than a dream, that Merry would never act that way, but still he withdrew when Merry put a hand on his shoulder.
"What have I done, Pippin?" But Pippin couldn't bring himself to speak. He turned over, facing away from Merry. If he looked at Merry's face he saw only the cruel look that had been in the dream.
"Pippin, I love you," Merry sobbed, "please tell me what's wrong." 'I love you'. Pippin knew they were true. He knew that Merry loved him as much as he loved him. He knew it, he just couldn't believe it. The sneering laugh at the water's edge echoed in his ears until that was all he could hear.
***
Merry didn't want to leave Pippin alone, even though it was clear Pippin didn't want him there. He refused to speak to him or even look at him. Merry could only stare at Pippin's back, and cry silently.
He wouldn't leave, in case Pippin took a turn for the worse and there was no one with him to see, so he couldn't deceive himself about Pippin's actions. Pippin was acting as though he didn't want to be with Merry, and Merry didn't know what he'd done wrong, what he'd done to make Pippin hate him.
The metal bands around their wrists were now just a cruel irony. Pippin seemed to have forgotten about the bond they shared, and Merry couldn't imagine why. He watched as Pippin slipped into slumber again. He had stopped crying now, and passed through to the point where pain was a solid form in his stomach. He was calm and still, the grief flowing around him and through him but he didn't respond to it. There was simply too much pain for him to respond to.
He wanted nothing more than to find a way to heal the breach he had somehow made. He wanted to find out what he had done wrong and fix it. He wanted to close the chasm that had formed between himself and Pippin so that they could be together again. The way they were meant to be.
When Aragorn came in, holding a cup of something Merry guessed was medicine, he looked at Merry and saw the tear-streaks down his face.
"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting down in a chair on the other side of the bed.
"He doesn't want me here," Merry said, eyes welling up again, "he won't even look at me."
"Merry, the disease he has is called Anax Fever," Aragorn said, "it's known to cause very realistic nightmares. Pippin has probably seen something in his sleep that's he's afraid of, and isn't yet able to talk about it even to you."
"He's had nightmares before and he's told me about them."
"He's still ill, Merry. When he's recovered and the dreams no longer have a hold over him, I'm sure he'll talk to you about them. Until then, all I can suggest is that you stay with him, let him know you're here." It was then that Pippin began to thrash about and cry out.
***
Pippin thrashed about in the water, trying to keep above the surface. Again Merry stood nearby, laughing at him. The band on Pippin's wrist was nothing but a weight, dragging him down into the water, trying to drown him.
"Merry!" he called. "Merry!" He reached out his hand, just as he went beneath the surface of the water. Distorted by the water, the sound of laughter came through to his ears. His lungs burned, despite the water that surrounded him, and screamed for breath.
He came momentarily above the surface, and took in a deep breath. But he went below again while still taking that breath in, and felt his mouth fill with water. He knew then that he was going to die.
Suddenly a hand gripped his. His eyes snapped open and looked into Merry's face, wet with tears.
"I'm here, Pippin," Merry was saying, "I love you." It was just a dream. Just a lying dream. Pippin closed his eyes against the images that still remained, but he clung to Merry's hand. Merry had pulled him from the water. Merry loved him.
Pippin cried, the visions of the dream still filling his mind. But through it all he felt Merry's touch. That was real. Merry's love was real. As long as he could remember that, what else mattered?
Pippin allowed himself to slip into sleep once more, no longer afraid of what terrible things he might see. They didn't mean anything. As long as he could hold Merry close, he didn't care. The bond they shared couldn't be broken by things so trivial as dreams. It was a bond of love so deep that it was not meant for breaking.
***
Author's note: Wow, I actually ended on a happy note. That's a first. But this doesn't mean you should stop reviewing. I love reviews.
If my descriptions of drowning aren't accurate, it's because Pippin wouldn't know what it feels like to drown, and therefore his dreams about it wouldn't be exactly as reality is. It's not because I don't know what I'm talking about. Honest.
There'll only be a couple more chapters after this one I'm afraid, but I've got an idea for the fourth story in the Fortune Trilogy. I think I'm turning into Douglas Adams.