Disclaimer:  Aside from the usual "Middle-earth is not mine and neither our any of its characters.  They belong to Tolkien" I would like to point out that I do not claim the title of this chapter.  Tolkien used it first and I'm sure you all know that.  I used it only because it fit this chapter well.  Sorry if this offends anyone.

Chapter 33

THREE IS COMPANY

            Though the day dawned bright, almost instantly the clouds took over and it was once again dismal and gray, though Apryl was well beyond the physical world to take any notice.  Pippin, too, was far gone, though the cold kept bringing him back to reality and no matter how far he snuggled within his blanket, he could not long banish the chill.

            Merry glanced around nervously.  The Sun was hidden well behind bleak clouds and though night had fled, still he wished she would show her face.  It looked as if it'd rain and Merry didn't think that was at all good.  They had left the House ill prepared and Merry had realized such when they left.  But his mind had been preoccupied with other things--like how they would ever find their dear cousin when this land was so terribly big

            Everything outside the Shire is unnaturally large, Merry thought in distaste.  The people, the trees . . . everything.  Very unnatural, he thought, eyeing the clouds distrustfully, as if he thought Eru himself had created the land out of proportion merely to entertain himself.

            The idea brought his thoughts to Apryl and he glanced over at the sleeping girl.  She was curled up in a small ball, her cloak wrapped tightly about her.  Not a hobbit, Merry knew, nor a human, I'd wager.  Something else . . . . Quite peculiar.

            Merry honestly didn't know what to make of her.  She was quite different from any lass he had ever known.  In the Shire it was improper for the womenfolk to romp around with the boys and so consequently Merry had never really known any.  When he was younger, roughly thirteen, he had made friends with one of his father's cousin's servant's daughter.  His uncle had visited Brandy Hall for a month and brought several of his household--that was when Merry met May.

            All the other lads had made terrible fun, for befriending a girl, and one of such a lowly name, too, was not right and proper for a Brandybuck lad, especially the Master's son.  He cared not though, for she had been quite the mischievous companion.  Never had Merry known how easy it was to pinch mushrooms, or sneak out in the dead of night and swim in the Brandywine.  She had never joined him of course, for she feared water as all living hobbits do, though he couldn't recall how many times he urged her to jump in.  She would go knee-deep but no farther and after a time he didn't push the issue.  Oh, what fun they had had and, unlike some of Merry's other friends, she had been most tolerant of their little tag-a-long and indeed had often let Pip join in their fun. 

            Merry missed her terribly sometimes.  All through the summer days it was one adventure after another and Merry hadn't known such happiness before, nor did he after. Then she had gone.  With a promise his playmate would return the following summer, Merry was content to see her go, his eyes alighting in laughter when (the adults weren't looking) she tossed him a mushroom swiped from the night before.  She winked, then ran to her father and they were gone.

            Three months later, word came to Brandy hall that Uncle Seredic's manservant's daughter had drowned in Thistle Brook.  No one would tell him how and he never asked, for deep within his heart he knew.

            "Come along, May, you're not afraid, certainly?"

            "Of course I am, and you would be too had you any sense."

            Frodo had visited several days later, when word reached Hobbiton, for he had met May and told his younger cousin's and their newfound friend many tales of dwarves and dragons.  May had been especially fond of them.

            Merry was glad for the arrival of his cousin, for Frodo understood what he was going through and though Pippin had been close to May as well, he had been but a lad of five and he did not understand.

            Merry smiled softly.  Frodo had always been there for him, ever since before he could remember. 

            A chill wind picked up, causing his cloak to flap about.  Hurriedly, he drew it about him and his eyes dimmed.  Where are you now, cousin?  What are these fair Elves thinking, in laying this Burden upon your shoulders, small even by hobbit standard?  I do not understand the ways of the Big Folk, nor do I wish to.

            He glanced over to Pippin, who moaned in protest, for the wind whipped about him and nipped irritatingly at his nose and cheeks.  He rolled to his stomach and buried his face within his cloak, completely hiding all features save his hairy feet, which poked from beneath the wind-blown fabric.

            Pippin understands them less than I, Merry told Frodo, wishing with all his heart that his cousin could hear him.  He is so very naive.  I fear he does not understand what we're getting into.  I do not even understand what we're getting ourselves into, though we are not totally without hope.  Apryl seems to understand this quest better than any of us.  Perhaps as well as Gandalf, though in a different way.

            Unintentionally, Merry yawned.  He chided himself mentally, for he was on watch and could not disappoint his friends by falling asleep.  It did not fully occur to the hobbit that falling asleep could bring greater consequences than getting ridiculed for his carelessness.  Though he had warned his companions earlier against building a fire, orcs and goblin-men were the farthest thing from his mind.  They were too close to Rivendell and Merry knew, from listening to the Big Folk talk, that no orc would dare travel within days of the Last Homely House. 

            No, orcs did not concern Merry, but the opposite.  Elves are what concerned the hobbit.

            "They will not be pleased," Merry was almost certain and he shook his head in shame.  "I do feel awful, though."

            "Why, Merry?"

            Meriadoc jumped, glanced wildly about until his eyes fell to Apryl, who still lay as she had, only now her grey eyes were open.

            Merry breathed out a sigh.  "I thought you asleep," he said.

            She shook her head, found it rather difficult in the position she lay in, then just said "no."  But the word did not go past her lips and she only mouthed it.  "Too cold," she said, her voice coming this time.

            Merry nodded in understanding.

            "If you like," she said, still without moving, "I'll take watch now.  I have slept a little but I doubt I'll find my dreams again."  She shifted then, making as if to sit up, but at the last she changed her mind and remained huddled beneath her cloak and sleeping bag.  "I find sleeping dull without dreams."

            Merry chuckled.  "You are an odd one, Apryl."

            Apryl merely smiled.  "You know what, Merry," she said suddenly. 

            "What?" Merry prompted.

            "I am glad I am here--with you and Pippin."

            Merry smiled and flushed slightly.  "As I said, you are an odd one."

            "Why?" Apryl wondered, sitting up so that she might better look at him, "because I enjoy your company?"

            "Because you seem to thrive off this dismal land," he said glancing about him rather disconcertedly.

            Apryl laughed.  "Oh, Merry, should you see dismal, come with me to my land.  There you shall find a very lonely world, for in comparison Middle-earth is lush."  Suddenly Apryl stopped, and then giggled to herself.  I'm even beginning to sound like a hobbit.  How marvelous!  "It's not just the land, though," she explained, "but the people.  The feel of the place.  Everything's different."

            Merry shook his head sadly.  "I could not imagine your world Apryl," he said, "If it is darker than our own, for we are in the midst of very a dark time."

            Apryl peered at Merry curiously.  "I thought hobbits were ignorant to the ways of the Outside."  She had meant to say it only to herself and did not realize she spoke aloud until Merry answered her.

            "We are," he told her, his crisp, sky-colored eyes gazing into her storm-hued ones.  "I was.  Until I spied on Gandalf, that is," he admitted sheepishly, "Or rather, Pippin and I had Sam spy on Frodo and Gandalf.  We, all of us, found out many things and I learned more once I arrived at Rivendell, for if one has a mind they will find the tongues of the elves terribly loose."  He grinned impishly.

            Apryl just looked at him, suddenly the skeptic.  "I doubt that, Meriadoc."

            Merry looked offended.  "I said if one has a mind.  Not many do."

            "What did you learn whilst you 'had a mind' to listen to the elves?" Apryl asked.

            "A lot," Merry admitted.  "Mostly it concerned the Ring."  The hobbit looked at Apryl and suddenly all earlier mirth vanished and his face was etched in concern.  "Cousin Frodo has a terrible burden . . ."  He closed his eyes, and sighed. 

            A still silence passed between the two for several moments as either had thoughts that they could not bring themselves to share.  Finally, Apryl scooted closer to Merry and reached out and grasped Merry's hand with her own.  Blinking in startlement, the hobbit looked at her and she smiled kindly.  "Everything will turn out fine in the end," she assured him.  At least everything's suppose to.  But then Apryl remembered Frodo and a slight pang came to her heart.  Sort of.

            "I just wish I knew where the end was?" Merry said softly, patting her hand, for he found comfort in it.  "It seems like this journey has been going on for far too long, and now I fear it shall never end."

            Apryl gave the hobbit a sympathetic smile.  "It will end, Merry," she promised, "for all things do."

            "Yes," he nodded, "But for good or ill?"

            Apryl shut her eyes tightly, as if she wished to blot something out, but when she opened them there he lay, contently beyond the wind's touch:  Pippin.  Apryl shivered.

            "I don't know," she admitted finally, for she didn't.

            Merry was suddenly rubbing her hands.  "Your cold," he said.

            "So are you," she pointed out, for his own hands did little good against hers.

            "So am I," came a muffled voice and both Apryl and Merry looked to the lump before them.  It shifted and out popped a disheveled head of curls, accompanied by rosy cheeks and a sniffling nose.

            "This will never do," Merry said, disapprovingly.

            "It most certainly won't," Pippin agreed.  "Time for a fire," he declared cheerfully.

            Merry scowled, though Apryl managed a weak grin.  "That is not what I meant, Cousin.  I am on watch, yet here we all are awake.  How do you suppose we are to find Frodo if we are all bone weary from lack of sleep?"

            "And how do you, cousin of mine," Pippin returned, and Apryl instantly recognized the haughty tone, for she had heard it more often than naught, "propose we sleep when it is so blasted cold?  Warmth is the issue.  A fire, I say!"

            Against his will, a smile spread across his face, and Merry could merely shake his head at Pip's defiant behavior.  "Tell me, Pip, what did you and I do on those nights we camped out upon the Brandywine and we forgot to bring a flint and tinder?"

            It took a moment before Apryl saw the light dawn on Pip's face and as soon as she did she knew she was in trouble.  She was right, of course, for Pip bounded up from his spot across from them and fairly launched himself at Merry and, consequently (because they had been sitting so close, her and Merry), Apryl.  All three of them went down in a heap.

            Before Apryl could tell what was what, she found herself between either hobbit, their cloaks and hers wrapped securely around all of them, plus with an addition sleeping bag or two to spare.

            "Why didn't we think of this before?" Pip demanded of his cousin.  Not two seconds had gone by and Apryl could already feel the heat radiating off his slight frame. 

            Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around his middle and snuggled close.  "I thought you said you were cold, Pip?" she asked, not noting or caring the incredulous look he bestowed upon her.  "Your like a furnace!"

            "And your as cold as snow," Pippin cried, touching her hands and wondering how she could stand it.  Apryl only smiled, trying her hardest not to touch her hands to his for she knew them to be cold.  Corryn used to say she was cold-blooded and Apryl wouldn't have doubted it.  She took after her mom in that respect.

            "Here," Merry said, taking her left hand within his two he began to rub.  Seeing this, Pippin took her right and proceeded to rub the life back into it as his cousin was doing to her other hand.  Apryl looked from one to the other, her cheeks flushing and it wasn't from the cold. 

            Well, this is awkward, she thought, too embarrassed to say or do anything.  Her hands warmed up fast enough though and when the hobbits saw this, they both looked at her.

            "There now," Merry said.  "Better?"

            Apryl knew her face was red.  She could just imagine how bright a pink her ears must have turned.  "Y-yes," she said, stuttering.  Her voice dropped to a whisper.  "Thank you."  She then brought her knees up to her chin and buried her face in them, letting her long hair hide her features.  She thought wistfully of her jackets secretive depths were none could judge her and she missed it dearly.

            Pippin watched her curiously, then looked at his cousin for an explanation.  Merry could only shrug.  Looking at her in a quiet manner, Pippin moved to the other side of Merry, where he leaned against his cousin.  Merry put an arm around Pip, then glanced at Apryl.

            "Goodnight, Apryl," he said, half in a hopeful manner.  He was doomed to disappointment however, for she mumbled a quiet "goodnight" and that was all.  Merry sighed.

            She is an odd one . . . .

            Pippin fell asleep a little while later, for his breath came deep and Merry was pleased that his skin was warm, though his breath came out in a white mist, as did his own.  It was some time later that he saw Apryl's arm fall, slipping from beneath the blanket to be exposed to the bitter wind.  Merry whispered her name but, as she did not respond, knew she was asleep.

            Reaching around her, he brought her arm back within the safety and warmth of the blankets.  Then, with but a moments hesitation, he pulled her close so that she might lean against him.

            Apryl sighed, mumbled something incoherent, then lay still.  Her breath came even and, Merry noted with a mixture of wonder and amusement, matched Pippin's exactly.

            Apryl watched the fiery orb descend beyond sight, her head resting comfortably against Merry's shoulder.  She figured it was about time to wake the two, though it seemed she had just taken over Pip's watch. 

            She lifted her head to look at the hobbits:  Pippin's head had fallen from Merry's shoulder to rest on his cousin's lap and Merry leaned contently against her, even as she rested against him. 

            I'll let them rest for a few more minutes, she decided, leaning her head against Merry again.

*****