Chapter Six
--- What if he's there? What'll he say? Will he tell Frodo what happened? Will he laugh at me, at how childish I am, at how much I trusted him?
I know that wouldn't be Merry, that he's too kind for that, too kind by far, but still… It scares me. What if it does happen? ---
***
Frodo was silent for all of breakfast. It was the most uncomfortable meal he had ever had, and, by the Valar, after his parents' deaths he had experienced a lot in the way of uncomfortable times. He had entered the kitchen first, to find Fatty and Sam gone – but having left steaming plates of sausages and eggs behind them, as well as a rack generously filled with toast and a jug brimming with orange juice. Frodo had sat down, taking his own plate, and began to eat.
Then Merry had entered, offered a forced 'good morning', and then set to eating his own food, sitting directly opposite Frodo. And just when Frodo had been about to broach a rather difficult subject, Pippin had come in very, very quietly, taken his plate of food, and come to sit right beside Frodo, eyes only for his breakfast, which he proceeded to eat with a dismaying un-hobbitlike lack of speed or enjoyment.
I can't bear to see you like that. And I know it's my fault.
Frodo finally finished eating, and laid down his knife and fork. The tension in the little room was unbelievable. Pippin's eyes were wide as he stared solidly down to his plate. Frodo felt a surge of compassion rush through him, but it was countered by the bitter anger he felt towards Merry, he who had committed such a terrible crime as hurting Pippin. How could you do that to him? He loves you. Don't you understand how lucky you are? He moved his hand to grip one of Pippin's which was under the table. Pippin looked over to him, and smiled weakly.
Thank you.
Merry got up very quickly, unable to face them any more. Unable to bear the way Frodo was taking care of Pippin. Unable to cope with the fact that he was the cause of all the anguished being felt by the one he cared for so much. He put his plate down by the sink for Fatty to clean after the other three had left, and was about to leave when Frodo's voice stopped him mid-step:
'Merry, why did you –'
Oh, no, don't, I don't know, I hate myself enough as it is…
Frodo! No! Stop! Not Merry!
'– hurry so much? Is my company that bad?' Frodo smiled as jokingly as he could, feeling Pippin relax beside him. He was shocked by just how much the simple words had affected the pair – it showed just how tense they really were.
Merry forced a laugh. 'It's nothing. The ponies need to be readied.' Don't make me stay here. It'll hurt us both. He looked only at Frodo, trying to ignore the boy for whom his heart was aching.
Frodo shrugged a little, terribly aware of how hard this was for both of them. But you have to do it. You have to talk. You need each other so much. 'Don't you want to stay and talk with Pippin and I?'
Pippin clenched Frodo's hand under the table, his nails digging into the other hobbit's flesh. No!
Merry shook his head with a quickness bordering on desperation. 'Can't. Fatty needs help,' he said in clipped sentences, before moving to the door. He risked one glance back at Pippin. My beautiful Peregrin… And then he tore himself away, stomping outside, tears glistening in his eyes.
There's something so wrong here it's painful just to breath, to think… Frodo could take it no more. He had to know, had to so he could help his two cousins whom he held so dear. Pippin. I'm doing this because I love you. 'Tell me, Pippin. Tell me what happened.'
And the teenager burst into tears like the child he was.
